Susan blinked in the bright sunshine and stared, dreamlike, at the chaos around her. A brown-haired EMT was lifting Sam into an ambulance. Ryan was speaking with the first parents on the scene. Susan cradled her face in her hands, struck with an avalanche of grief so powerful it felt like a physical blow. The weeping couple must be the Garcias. She drifted in the middle of an empty void, lost and alone. Tears flowed freely down the faces of José’s parents. Susan fought tears of her own. Their son had unintentionally given his life for Sam’s. José had been a real-life hero and died an innocent martyr. Small comfort that would be to his loved ones.
Brett stumbled toward them, his face streaked with dirt and tears. “I’m sorry!” He choked on a sob. “I killed him. I killed your son.”
“Get back!” Ryan raised a fist, his face a mask of fury.
An officer pulled Brett aside. He struggled to break free. “Don’t touch me!” He was hyperventilating. EMTs rushed to help. He fought them as they assisted him into an oxygen mask. Susan turned away. She had more important worries than asshole Brett Armstrong.
She shook off her shock and rushed to the nearest cop. No one else was taking action. They had to find Chris. Every second he spent with Alex brought him closer to death. “You have to help me! My friend, Chris. Alex took him. He dragged him through a wall!”
“Slow down.” The officer had a gentle southern accent that likely calmed most people but had the opposite effect on her. “Do you know where Mr. Cardelle is?” His compassionate hazel eyes gazed down at her from an impressive height.
“No!” Her voice rose in pitch and volume. “Alex dragged Chris through a wall! They melted through the wood like it was water!” She gesticulated wildly.
“Hon, maybe you should sit down and take a few deep breaths.” The officer and his partner gave her condescendingly sympathetic looks.
“You’re not listening to me! Not everyone is safe yet! My best friend is missing!” People were staring, but Susan didn’t care. Chris was in trouble. They needed to save him. Didn’t these people understand? Alex was going to kill him!
The southern officer’s partner lifted a hand. He had a snow white beard and a potbelly like Santa. “Calm down, little lady. We have swat teams combing the area. Don’t you worry your mind. We’ll find him.”
“Alex can melt through walls!” Susan stomped her foot. Frustration electrified her nerves and shot through her body.
The southern officer guided her to an ambulance and helped her inside. “These guys are just gonna check you over real quick. It’s okay now.”
“Susan.” Ryan clambered into the ambulance and took the seat beside her. “You have to stop talking about people melting through walls. Everyone will think you’re crazy.”
“You saw it, too!” She rounded on him with her gray eyes blazing. His cinnamon eyes were calm, his expression concerned. She wavered on the brink of uncertainty. “Didn’t you see?”
“I-I don’t know what I saw. But please, calm down. The officers are right. Things are okay now. You’re safe, and soon Chris will be too.”
Susan’s lower lip trembled. Ryan put his arms around her, and she softly began to cry into his shoulder. The hunger, exhaustion, dehydration, and horror of the last few days piled around her and threatened to consume her. Ryan’s arms were the only solid, good thing she knew. A few more kids joined them in the ambulance, and they sped away from Hilltop Middle. Susan hoped she would never see the school again. Ryan gently wiped her face and held her while she cried. A gradual calm soothed her spirit.
She was quiet by the time they reached the hospital, but she was still sure of what she had seen. Anger sizzled beneath her grief. Why was Ryan ignoring it? One second, the three of them had been there, and the next, they were gone. Ryan had to have seen something.
The doctors quickly triaged everyone from Alex’s prison. Sam was rushed into surgery, Jake was taken up for a CT scan, and Susan was directed to the clinic for first-aid treatment. Ryan walked her there with a hand on her elbow, guiding her as she fumed.
Her mother was waiting for her, hovering by reception. Susan twisted her mouth in a grimace. Her mom was the one person who might actually be able to make this worse. She had an amazing inability to consider anyone’s feelings but her own. Her mother rushed forward with her arms flung wide. “Susan, I’ve been so worried!” She hugged her, squeezing too tight.
“Mom, I’m fine.” Exhaustion soaked her words. “This is my friend, Ryan.”
“Ryan, you darling boy.” Her mother flung her arms around him, as well. Susan felt her face grow hot. “Thank you for protecting my baby.”
Susan shot Ryan an apologetic look. Amy treated their mom’s enthusiasm like a child starved for attention. Susan had had Amy’s attention all her life and didn’t want, or need, her mother’s. Her fawning over Ryan like she truly cared about them was nothing more than an outright show. “Mom, please.”
Ryan simply smiled until she finally released him. “Susan was amazing.” He turned his smile on her. Susan’s heart soared like a bird sailing into orbit.
“Ryan, I’m so relieved.” A fair-haired doctor in navy scrubs rushed to embrace him. “You made your mother and I very proud.”
“I didn’t do anything special.” Now, it was Ryan’s turn to blush. “Sue, this is my dad.”
Mr. Rivera looked nothing like his son. He was Caucasian and slim with fine fair hair and empathetic clover green eyes. He was strikingly handsome but not in the dark-skinned, muscled way Ryan was.
Ryan laughed at Susan’s look of confusion. “He’s technically my stepdad.”
Her cheeks were on fire. “Hi, Dr. Rivera.” She managed a mortified smile.
“Hi, Susan.” He shook her hand. “I’d like to get those cuts checked out if you don’t mind.”
“Sure.” She was glad for the excuse to ditch her mother.
“Can I come, as well?” Mrs. Evans eyed them hopefully.
“Mom, please. I’m not five years old.”
Her mother stepped back with a wounded look. Susan struggled to care. She was acting bratty, she knew. She’d be nicer once Chris had been rescued.
Dr. Rivera led her into an examination room to bandage her numerous scrapes and bruises. “You’re very lucky none of these got infected.” He spread gauze over a deep gash on her shoulder.
“I know. How’s my friend, Sam?”
“She’s in surgery. Her parents are here at the hospital. I’m afraid I can’t tell you anymore without her parents’ permission.”
Susan slumped against her armrest. “Oh, okay.” Her gut clenched with worry. Surgery sounded serious.
They left the examination room and found Ryan and Mrs. Evans sitting with a beautiful black woman who must be Ryan’s mother. She had a figure like a supermodel, the kind Susan would sell her soul to have when she got older. Her wavy sable hair and perfect face would have been too much to take if it weren’t for her kind cinnamon eyes. Susan shook her head in awe. No wonder Ryan was the preteen equivalent of a black Chris Hemsworth.
Ryan and Susan left their parents to chat and took the elevator up to the psych floor for their mandatory counseling appointments. “Thanks for hanging with me.” Susan gave Ryan a grateful smile as they joined the rest of their classmates in the lounge.
“It’s no problem.” Ryan returned her smile, and her heart did summersaults of delight. “I didn’t want to be alone, either.”
“Do you guys know the latest on Sam and Chris?” Caleb leaned forward in his seat, the picture of a concerned acquaintance.
Susan instinctively shifted closer to Ryan. It was triggering facing the people who had become her enemies overnight. Caleb sat with four of his friends. She and Ryan were alone. She was outnumbered and vulnerable, and she felt it with every fiber of her being.
“Chris is still missing, and Sam is in surgery.” Her words had a sharp, bitter edge to them. She had thought Caleb was cool until he had decided his life was worth more than Sam’s.
&n
bsp; “Come on, Sue.” Caleb raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alex’s games are over. You don’t have to hate me anymore.”
“I don’t hate you. I just need some time.”
Caleb backed off. The group waited in strained, awkward silence for their pointless appointments. Susan was summoned third. She shouldered her bag and trudged into yet another therapist’s office, her fifth in two years.
“Hi, Susan. I’m Maggie.” The counselor had a warm, sweet voice that soothed her soul like vanilla ice cream. She was thin but busty with a mane of wild chestnut curls. Susan pictured Sarah’s curly hair and blinked back tears. “I understand you’ve been through a traumatic experience. Would you like to talk about how you feel?”
“I watched four people die. One of them was my friend. Do I really need to tell you how I feel? You should be able to guess how I feel.” Unreasonable anger scorched away her grief. Her emotions were all over the place and painful, like a box of thumbtacks spilled on the floor.
“You seem angry. How about you expand on those feelings.”
“I’m frustrated! No one will listen to me. What I need to say is important!”
“I’m all ears. Why don’t you try explaining it to me?”
Susan took a deep breath and word vomited the horror story of Alex’s imprisonment. She skipped quickly to the end and described how Chris had disappeared. Maggie remained silent throughout her rant. Just like always, Susan felt no better after talking it through.
“Someone has to listen to me, or I’ll go crazy and kill someone!” Susan shrieked without thinking in an effort to get her therapist’s attention. Maggie’s expression went from calm acceptance to instant concern. “Wait, no. I didn’t mean that. Of course, I won’t kill anyone, except for maybe Alex. He killed Sarah. He deserves to die.” She was making it worse. She shut her mouth, knowing it was already too late.
“I’m going to suggest you stay here for a while.” Maggie picked up her phone and pressed a button.
Susan’s eyes bulged. “You’re admitting me to the psych ward? No, you can’t. I’m not crazy! I know what I saw. I know how this sounds. It’s true, I swear!”
“Please stay calm.” Maggie held up a hand. “Yeah, I have an eleven-year-old in my office with severe paranoia. Can you send up a family member to approve her admittance?
“No! I am not staying here! I have to help Chris. Alex wants to kill him. Don’t you get it?” Hot tears stung her eyes. She leapt from her chair and pounded on the door. “He’s. My. Best. Friend!” She punctuated every word with a kick to the polished wood. Two nurses, one male and one female, rushed to Maggie’s aid. Susan struggled as they propelled her from the office. “No! I have to find Chris! He’s with Alex, don’t you get it? Alex isn’t normal. I don’t think he’s even human!”
Her classmates stared as the nurses bustled her away. Mrs. Evans met them halfway down the hall. “Susan, please. The doctors are only trying to help you.”
“Sign here when you’re ready.” The male nurse handed Mrs. Evans a form.
“Don’t sign it!” Susan had crossed the border into hysteria. “Mom, please, I’m not crazy. I’m not crazy! Do not do this to me!” Her heart pounded in her chest. The walls were closing in. Familiar feelings of claustrophobia clutched her in constricting bands of terror. It was hard to breathe. “I’m not crazy,” she whimpered. They couldn’t lock her up alone. Not all by herself.
“Sue, I’m sorry. I think you need help.” Her mother picked up the pen and signed the form.
Susan stared at her, wide-eyed and trembling. “I will never forgive you for this.” No other betrayal had ever cut this deep. Not when her dad had gone out for pizza and never came back. Not when Justin and Amy had chosen a college across the country. Not when Katie, in all her three-year-old wisdom, had told her Amy would always be her favorite sister. Nothing compared to this moment. Nothing even came close. Her own mother thought she was insane. Her own mother was locking her up.
The nurses set her up in a bare, off-white room and gave her a pill to calm her down. Susan’s chest heaved with silent sobs. She gazed around herself in a state of shock.
Someone on the other side of the wall was screaming and crying for his mom. A shock of electricity swept through her body. She collapsed onto the bed. Not only had she been locked in a psych ward, but she was locked in with Brett Armstrong.
Thirty-seven
KIMMY WAS FLAILING, slowly but surely unraveling beneath the stress. Her carefully laid plans had been sucked into a volatile vortex of chaos. Alex had disappeared hours ago with Chris. She was still scrambling to keep up. Alex was by no means the most powerful Dark she had ever met, but he was one of the most resourceful. She had struggled to match his curve balls with a barrage of her own and was ready to race him across the country. This time, she and Peter were taking her personal express route. They were going to teleport, a convenience the OSC allowed now Peter had been enlightened. Most of Kimmy’s angelic gifts, including teleportation, were derived from holy light in much the same way a Dark’s power stemmed from wielding the darkness. The main difference between holy light and darkness was that holy light was far superior. Kimmy could transport herself, and whoever else she wished, anywhere in the world in the blink of an eye. She and Peter would pick up precious time and arrive in Vancouver way ahead of Alex.
“Are you ready?” Kimmy held out a hand to Peter.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.” He took it with a smile. His callused palm was warm, his fingers strong but gentle. An electric current shot from their joined hands straight to Kimmy’s heart. She gulped and fought to ignore its erratic fluttering.
She teleported to the living room of her apartment in Vancouver and swiftly dropped his hand. What was happening to her? He was younger by four years and fresh out of prison.
“Cool!” Peter beamed. “That sure beats taking the bus.”
“Geez, Kimmy!” Tommy Stratton, the grumpier of her two roommates, had startled at their sudden appearance. “You might try using the door every once in a while.” He grabbed a wad of tissues and wiped spilled coffee off his shirt.
Tommy was tall, easily six foot four with the muscled body of a professional weightlifter. His deep bronze hair was wavy and soft, and his dark eyes were rich pools of whiskey. He looked sexy as hell no matter what he wore.
“Sorry, I’m in a hurry.” She released a nervous tinkle of laughter. “By the way, this is Peter.”
Peter held out his hand. Tommy ignored it. “Tommy Stratton,” he grunted. “You helping Kimmy with the Cardelle case?”
“Trying too. I’m pretty much her sidekick.” He winked. Her face split in a goofy grin.
Tommy stalked down the hall and slammed his bedroom door. Kimmy hurried from the room with confusion clouding her thoughts. What did Tommy have to be angry about? He brought girls home all the time. Peter was far from a date. She snagged an apple off the kitchen counter on her way out the door. Peter trailed after her, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Where are we going?” he asked as they took the elevator to the parking garage.
“We need a mage. One who knows Alex well.”
“I hope you don’t mean Charles Banks.” He held the garage door for her.
“As a matter of fact, I do. What’s wrong with Charles?”
“Nothing. He’s not my biggest fan is all.” He halted midstride, his mouth falling open at the sight of her car. “What the? How did this get here? We left it at the airport.”
“I teleported it back.” It was fun impressing him with her powers.
“Teleport a car with more leg room next time.” Peter crammed himself into the front seat.
“Are you telling me to steal a car?” She pressed her lips together in her best attempt at a disapproving frown. “That’s against the law.”
He chuckled. “No one would ever guess it was you. You’re the perfect thief.”
She rolled her eyes and held out her keys. “Want to drive?”
Kimmy settled herself in the front and breathed a sigh of relief. She could drive, of course, but traffic stress wreaked havoc on her nerves, especially during rush hour.
She checked her phone and mentally recoiled. An overwhelming amount of people had tried to contact her in the last few hours. The Toronto Police Department, the Vancouver Police Department, the Office of Supernatural Containment, Amy Evans, a doctor from a hospital back in Toronto, her roommate Felicia, and her detective friend Xander, just to name a few. Everyone was asking questions and demanding to know what to do. Kimmy cupped her forehead with a palm. The constant badgering and pressure that resulted from police work was her least favorite part of the job.
“Everything okay?” Peter asked, his voice threaded with concern.
Kimmy caught her breath and avoided meeting his eyes. Why was he being so attentive to her feelings? It made it hard to focus. “I have a lot of work is all.”
“Let me know if there’s anything I can do.”
“Driving to campus is all the help I need.” She took a breath and sifted through her missed calls, voicemails, and texts in search of the most urgent demands. She skipped to a lengthy voicemail from the Office of Supernatural Containment.
“Good news?” Peter asked as she lowered the phone from her ear.
“In a way. Alex went way too far when he escaped with Chris. Several students are claiming he walked straight through a wall like, in one student’s words, a manically grinning ghost. Most people are writing it off as hysteria, but one student in particular is exceptionally insistent.”
Peter smiled. “Susan Evans? She’s a very logical eleven-year-old. I can’t see her forgetting something that unusual.”
“The message didn’t say. But Alex has a lot to answer for now that the supernatural community is involved. The OSC has agreed to help us detain him with whatever means necessary.”
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