Charles plucked a folder from his backpack and handed it over. “This is a printout of a suicide note he wrote a few years back.”
“Damien tried to kill himself?”
“Multiple times. Just read it.”
Zack read and read and read. He finished the note and flopped onto his pillows. He stared up at the ceiling with mingled shock and pity. “When you said this dude had an awful life, you really meant it.”
“Right? It made mine look good, and before I met you and Amy, my life was a living hell.”
“So, why are you showing me this?”
Charles grinned. “I’m glad you asked. I want to help Damien fake his own death.”
Forty-eight
CHARLES STARED AT Zack for a long moment. His friend’s expression was hard to interpret. Zack had a soft spot for guys like him and Damien, and they owed Damien big time for helping them face Alex. But faking a death was insane and a risk to anyone who knew of it.
Zack’s mouth quirked into a smile. “Can you imagine? That was a good one, man. You had me going for a minute there.”
“What’s the joke?”
“You’re serious? You actually wanna help a criminal evade the law after what we went through with Alex?”
Charles pressed his lips together as doubt crept into his mind. “I know, I know. But this is Damien, not Alex. He’s a good guy. He deserves a second chance. He had it worse than I did. If it weren’t for you and Amy…”
“But he stabbed someone. Someone we know.” Zack pressed a hand to his face with a pained expression. “Still, I’m the last person who ought to judge.” He sighed heavily. “There’s no talking you out of this, is there? You at least have to check with Amy. I’m not against your idea as long as she’s okay with this stuff about her past going viral.” Charles got up to leave. Zack quirked a brow. “You don’t have to check with her right this second, bro.”
Charles nodded in sympathy. Zack was avoiding being alone with his thoughts. “You got shot a few hours ago. You should get some sleep.” Zack stared at the wall, his blue eyes pools of vacant, detached grief. Charles squeezed his shoulder. “It’ll get easier.”
Zack met his gaze, his eyes clouded with sorrow. “What if Amy and I aren’t even friends anymore? I might have torpedoed our weird ass group.”
“I won’t let that happen. You guys and Jessie are the best friends I’ve ever had. After everything we’ve been through together, I think we can survive one awkward break-up.”
“I hope you’re right.”
“Trust me, I am.” Charles strutted from the room. His missions were unity and faking his friends’ deaths. He marched into the waiting area and found everyone except Amy.
Peter stood to confront him. “What the hell did you and Zack do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything. Amy and Zack broke up.”
“They what?” Jessie said and leapt to her feet.
“Inside voices.” Kimmy shushed her.
“Amy and Zack are like ham and cheese, cheese and crackers, macaroni and cheese. They’re meant for each other! They can’t break up!” Jessie flapped her hands in counterclockwise circles as if she were able to rewind time and undue Charles’s words.
Damien giggled. “Who’s the cheese in these analogies?”
“Why does everything good always end up so bad?” Jessie’s emerald eyes swam with tears.
Charles’s heart gave a twinge of pain in response to hers. The familiar pull of longing was tugging him toward a girl he could never have. Charles reached for her hand, settling for a friendly gesture instead of taking her in his arms like he longed to do. “Jessie, it’s okay. They’ll get through this. I’m sure they’ll still be friends.”
“Oh, right.” Jessie glared daggers at him and yanked her hand free. “’Cause that worked so well for Rachael and Ross.”
“Who are Rachael and Ross?” Damien flicked his gaze from face to face, the picture of perplexed puzzlement.
“Where’d Amy go?” Charles asked into the silence. “I have to talk to her.”
“I’ll find her. You’ve done enough.” Jessie stormed outside into the late morning drizzle.
“Why is this my fault?” Charles demanded of the group at large.
“Let me lay it out for you.” Damien counted off reasons on his fingers. “Jessie just broke up with her longtime boyfriend, and now a couple of her best friends have also split. She had a rocky first week of university, and she’s way more homesick than she’s letting on. She feels like everything has changed. Case in point, her other best friend went and kissed her last night. Now she’s confused on how to feel about you and dying of guilt for moving on from her ex back home after taking their break-up so hard.”
“Damn.” Peter dropped into his seat. “You, bro, are our appointed girl whisperer.”
Kimmy snorted. “And here I was thinking I had a shot at that.”
Charles buried his forehead in his palm. “Whatever. Damien, I need to talk to you, as well.”
Damien followed him outside, his expression one of apprehensive surprise. They sat on a damp, stone bench by a crystal-clear fountain. Charles took a deep breath and released it on a forceful whoosh. “So, I know you have mad skills, and you can stop most people from realizing you’re wanted by Canadian law from coast to coast. But I’ve thought of a way to make it easier on you if you want.”
Damien leaned forward with interest. “I’m listening.”
“If we posted your old suicide note online, it would make your death look damn convincing.”
“Are you planning on murdering me and making it look like a suicide?”
“Yes, but not on my carpet.” Charles smirked. “No, seriously, I’m going to help you fake your own death. Criminal charges can’t be held against someone who’s deceased.” Charles allowed himself a smug grin. Even he was amazed by his brilliance.
“That’s an interesting idea. I’m not sure about the note going public, though. I wrote some strongly worded stuff about Amy.”
“I know. That’s why I wanted to talk to her. I have to get her permission before we subject her to viral infamy.”
“No.” Damien spoke with immovable finality. “I never want her to see that note.”
“It’s all true though, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. But she’s different now, and I keep telling her I’m over it. I can’t throw it back in her face, especially after what happened with Zack.”
“I know it’s bad timing, but she kind of owes it to you. It’s not like you’re doing it to make her look bad. You’re just trying to reclaim your life. She’s dying of guilt over how she treated you. I kind of think she’ll jump at the chance to make things better.”
It took nearly an hour to get him to cave. Charles swiftly steered the conversation to plotting, an intentional distraction to keep him from changing his mind. There was nothing a Dark loved more than a good plot. They soon had an airtight plan. Damien would create a solid reflection of himself, and Charles, with his knowledge of biology and his affinity for magical life force, would make it look like the fake Damien had shot himself after posting his note to social media. Then Damien would influence the medical examiners to skip the autopsy and rush his funeral.
“Okay, now that’s behind us, I have a few questions of my own.” Damien fixed him with a penetrating stare. “How come every Dark you meet hates you? Alex, Nova, Lara. What do you do to piss us off, and why are you helping me now?”
“Holy crap that was a lot of questions.”
“You’re not the only one able to launch an interrogation.”
Charles sighed. “My dad died when I was four. He was murdered by a Dark.”
“Alex?”
“No, his father. Alex’s parents owned a giant, shady company, and my dad found out they were using it as a front for criminal activity. He was going to expose them in the paper. They murdered him to keep it quiet.”
“Holy. That’s…” Damien floundered for words.
&nbs
p; “Yeah. My mom taught me that Darks were conniving, evil creatures who were never, ever to be trusted. I agreed with her until I met you.”
“You’re too kind.” Damien grinned.
“Shut up. You saved my life even though I treated you like crap. This is me apologizing for being a racist brat.”
Damien flashed him a smile. “You should apologize more often. I am sorry about your dad, though. Growing up with Alex wouldn’t have given you much reason to change your mind about my species.”
“Hey.” Jessie squelched up to them in sodden blue sneakers. “Amy’s waiting for a taxi. Do either of you want to drive back to campus with her?”
“You’re not coming?” Anxiety swirled in Charles’s gut. Was Jessie too furious to even share a car with him?
“I’m going to visit Zack before leaving.”
“I’ll do the same,” Damien rushed out.
“Right.” Charles shot him a scathing look. Damien wanted to be as far away from her as possible when Amy saw his note.
“Let’s go up together, then.” Jessie dazzled Damien with her warm, genuine smile. “And Charles, sorry I was a drama queen earlier. It was stupid of me to blame you for Amy and Zack breaking up.”
His relief made him giddy. “Don’t worry about it.” He hugged her close for a fraction of a second too long. She felt amazing in his arms, like a golden ray of sunshine. He left to find Amy before he made a fool of himself and poured out his heart to her. The last thing Jessie needed was more emotional turmoil.
He rounded a corner and found Amy sitting on a high-backed bench facing the street. Her knees were pulled up to her chest, and her face was buried in her arms. He had never seen Amy look lost. Now she was adrift a million miles away. Charles sloshed through a puddle in his haste to reach her side. He lightly touched her shoulder. “How you holding up?”
“Hi.” She looked up with tears glistening in the corners of her misty gray eyes.
“Oh, Amy.” He pulled her into a hug and refused to let her go.
“I figured you’d be on his side,” she said into his denim jacket.
He gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m not picking sides. Working with Max was downright noble of you.”
“You wanna know a secret?”
“Always.” He managed a weak smile.
“I never lied to Zack. Max was using me as bait. Alex offered him a payout, and he needed the money for college.”
Anger sparked in his chest and exploded into a tempest of heat. “You gotta be kidding me. Why did you protect him?”
“He switched sides halfway through.”
A weight settled in Charles’s chest. It hung from his heart like a block of cement. “But if you tell Zack, he’ll have Max arrested.”
Amy nodded. “Either I betray Max, or I betray Zack, and Max has more to lose.”
“Zack loses you, though.”
“He’s better off.” Her shoulders shook as she fought to contain a sob. She looked like glass cracking before his eyes.
“You know that’s a lie, right? Any guy would be lucky to be with you. It doesn’t matter where you came from. You’re not the trashy East Side girl you think we all see. You’re Amy. You take care of everyone, and all of us adore you for it.”
“You’re just saying that ‘cause I’m sad.” Amy half laughed, half cried.
“That doesn’t make it any less true. You’re smart, funny, kickass, and beautiful. What more could a guy want?”
“You sound like you’re crushing on me.” She giggled as she wiped her eyes. “We never talk like this.”
“Maybe we should. I’ve always wished we were closer. But just so you know, I don’t date girls who yell at me as much as you do. Besides, your long list of admirers has no room for my name.”
“You’re accumulating a long list yourself. Jessie told me you kissed her.
“Oh, please. Jessie and I are never going to happen. I’m going to stick with Raquel. I have no idea how I got a chance with her, either.”
“Too bad. I was starting to think Jessie had real feelings for you.”
A sun-yellow taxi rolled into the hospital parking lot. Charles took Amy’s arm and helped her to her feet. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
“Mind if we stop somewhere first?” Amy asked as they climbed into the back seat. Charles shook his head. “Take us to 3355 Pleasant Avenue, please.”
“What’s on Pleasant Avenue?”
Amy dropped her eyes to her lap. “The cemetery where Katie’s buried. I’ve been meaning to go see her all week, but I couldn’t do it alone. It’s not too far from here. Do you mind coming with me?”
“Of course not.” He reached across the seat and squeezed her hand.
They stepped out of the taxi in front of a tiny white chapel. It was a little slice of old-fashioned architecture with ornate stained-glass windows and beautiful stonework. Amy led him around back and into a gated cemetery. She halted in front of the first row of tombstones, her expression anguished.
Charles saw the tears begin to flow and turned to watch a bird soar above their heads. Amy hated crying in front of people. “Would you like to be alone?” She nodded mutely and stepped away. Charles exited the cemetery and wandered around the block. He picked a bouquet of wildflowers as he went.
He went to find her after circling the block twice. She was down on her knees at the edge of a tiny, well-kept plot. Charles dropped to the ground beside her and read the simple, heartbreaking epitaph. Katie Evans, a joy to all who knew her. May the angels watch over you always. May your spirit rest in peace. March 4, 2013 - June 27, 2016. Amy’s tears rained down upon the gently mounded carpet of grass.
He handed her the flowers. She arranged them on her sister’s tiny headstone as her tears fell amongst the petals. Several other bouquets lay next to theirs. Most of them had wilted, but a few were fresh.
Charles eyed the flowers. “I wonder who left those there?”
“Max or Justin,” Amy choked out, a thick tightness in her voice. His heart squeezed. It hurt to see her cry. Amy was famous for bottling her grief. “I had to come here. I knew if I didn’t, I’d start cutting again.” Amy plucked at the grass and avoided his gaze.
Charles hugged her close. Words were meaningless in moments like this. No wonder Amy kept so much to herself. She had enough emotional baggage to crush an army.
“Everyone keeps telling me I have too many secrets. Do you want me to explain how she died?”
“No. I believe you.” He was never going to make her relive that trauma. She had been through enough.
“Are you sure?” Her voice cracked with emotion.
“Yes. You’ve been my friend for way longer than Max has. I should never have taken his side.”
“We’re still friends?” Amy smiled through her tears.
“Friends forever. No matter how stupidly corny that sounds.”
Her lips quirked upward. “Things could be a lot worse, you know. I could be a widow right now, instead of a divorcee.”
He laughed. The sound brought life to the lonely graveyard. “You and Zack were never married. Though you sure acted like it with how much you bickered.”
Amy traced Katie’s name and whispered words he couldn’t hear. A gentle breeze carried them away and slowly dried her tears. They stood to leave, stronger for their pain. Someday he would tell her about losing his father. He and Amy shared the burden of premature loss. For now, he’d settle for getting her home and making sure she wasn’t alone. He would hold their group together. They meant more to him than anything. They were his lifeline, his family, his whole entire world. An entity like the Blood Moon could never hope to understand their power.
Afterword
SUSAN EVANS’S AND Chris Donnellson’s classmates suffered the brunt of Alex’s revenge. A wave of mistrust and backstabbing has splintered the sixth grade into factions of fear. Parents are frightened to send their children back to school, and children are reluctant to go. School officials are doing all
they can to ease the tension. Many fear the establishment will never be the same.
Samantha Williams’s right leg was infected and had to be amputated from just above her knee. She was fitted with a prosthetic and faces extensive physical therapy.
Susan Evans was sprung from the psych ward by Kimmy’s childhood friend, Becky Pacherri. Becky tried her best to explain the supernatural world, but Susan refused to believe her. Her enlightenment remained raw and incomplete until she discussed the supers with Kimmy and Peter via FaceTime.
Nova Cardelle was escorted back to Toronto by a social worker and placed under the care of Social Services. She grieves deeply for her brother and the choices he made. Peter Jenkins has made a point of staying in contact with her. They FaceTime every Saturday in much the same way Alex used to FaceTime Felicia.
Brett Armstrong was kept in the psych ward for several weeks. He was released into the care of Social Services and remains under close supervision. Experts fear his traumatic experience may have permanent, lasting effects on his psyche.
Ryan Rivera, Susan Evans, and other close friends of the classmates Alex murdered attend mandatory, biweekly group counseling sessions. Susan and Ryan hit up Dairy Queen together after every single meeting. Their instant bond has sparked a strong, lifelong friendship.
The families of Maria Lawson, Sarah Matthews, and José Garcia held a joint memorial for the trio of young martyrs. They were surprised with a massive turnout. Every student from Hilltop Middle came to pay their respects, along with dozens of youths from schools around the city. Several government officials, including the mayor of Toronto and the country’s prime minister, attended the service to show solidarity to the children’s loved ones. With the memorial full to bursting, scores of sympathetic strangers packed city square and stood in sad, respectful silence for the duration of the service.
A trio of three young women silently mourned Alex’s passing. Felicia Pacherri placed a candle in her window for him every night that winter. She grieves for that eleven-year-old she took under her wing, who made terrible choices and wound up a killer. Lainey Araya, an ex-girlfriend of Alex’s, broke down and cried upon hearing the news. She was minutes away from a life-changing interview and subsequent career leap. She canceled without notice and spent the afternoon in tears. Lara Tzadik took his death the hardest. She had been a guardian Dark assigned to two people she loved. Her boyfriend, Ashton Jones, had died beneath the last Blood Moon, and Alex, the current one. The mental toll of losing both people she had lived to protect pushed her over the edge. She committed suicide days after Alex’s death.
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