Mortal Danger

A DEMON, DREAMING

True to her word, Davina didn’t show up at school the rest of the week. The following Monday, Blackbriar issued an official statement that another student, Russell Thomas, had died, but they didn’t release any additional information or disclose that it had been suicide. I didn’t tell and I doubted Davina did either, but the rumor mill got word anyway. The most popular version was that Brittany had been cheating on Cameron with Russ, and when she died, he killed himself in grief.

If Cameron looked bad before, he was a wreck this morning. It looked like he had slept in his uniform and he’d given up eating and bathing. I noticed people circling around him in the hall, as if his funk might be contagious. This is exactly what you asked for, that tiny, insidious voice whispered. I squeezed my eyes shut and rested my head against the cool metal of my locker. My stomach hurt while my pulse pounded out a damning rhythm.

Guilty. Guilty.

The telltale heart refrain stretched my nerves to the breaking point. As the day wore on, the shadow over the school darkened. Mr. Love seemed inappropriately cheerful, whistling in the hallways and beaming broad smiles as if he could lift people’s spirits just by existing. He paused as he spotted me and watched me walk away, the smile fading to a whitened compression of lips. There was something horrible in his eyes, none of the studied and careful concern, more of a dreadful anticipation, like when a storm chaser straps into his van, knowing destruction is imminent.

Or you might be imagining things.

As promised, Nicole Johnson had failed a couple of quizzes, so she was always in his classroom: reading, studying enrichment materials, or doing extra credit. There was nothing overtly wrong with it since he left the door open and she sat at her desk, but Nicole didn’t look right anymore. Her face was pale, eyes blank and circled with rings. It bothered me most that she’d stopped tending her once-shining blond hair, so now it hung in lank strings and she no longer wore her uniform with sexy flair. That’s just not like her. But if I tried to warn anyone, they’d think she was just depressed and nursing a hopeless crush.

“Talk about giving up.” Allison spoke at my shoulder, studying Nicole with disdain. “It’s pathetic and embarrassing to watch.”

“What is?”

“Nic pining over Colin, like she has a shot.”

Like you do with Cameron? With effort I choked the bitchy reply because lately it seemed that every horrible thing I whispered came true in some form. I didn’t want to believe the horror was inside the house, so to speak, but if I was the source of the darkness at Blackbriar, then I had to keep my mouth shut.

“She looks sick,” I said.

“No shit.” With a curl of her perfectly lipsticked mouth, Allison brushed past me and headed to her next class.

But I didn’t mean it as she thought, not that Nicole was disgusting. On closer inspection, she seemed pale and weak, physically ill. Like something’s sucking the life out of her. I was willing to bet Colin Love was the leech draining her dry.

During lunch, I went to the library instead of the cafeteria. Unable to believe I was about to do this, I sighed and typed two words into the search bar: psychic vampires. Each time someone went by I covered my screen, guilty as a sophomore trying to disable the browser locks to look at porn. But I read all kinds of crazy stuff about creatures who fed on energy, not blood, and didn’t have the weaknesses associated with the traditional kind. They seem completely human, but tragedy, discord, and despair follows in their wake. You will know these demons because they are not born of woman and have no navel.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.” I tapped my fingers on the cubbyhole that held the computer I was using.

“What is?” Jen asked.

I jerked, surprised to find her at my shoulder and already reading the screen. Shit. My mind went blank, and I waited for her to head off to everyone how crazy I was.

“You write fic, too?”

I didn’t answer, and her tentative smile widened into a grin. “Come on, it can’t be worse—or weirder—than mine. I have like a hundred and eighty thousand words devoted to Draco.”

“Wow.” The light came on. Obviously I knew about fanfic, and I read it for my favorite pairings, but I’d never written any. “Uhm. Actually this is research.”

“For a story?”

Relief spilled through me, softening my locked shoulders. “You got me. I’ve never done any creative writing and I thought it might help to do some reading first.”

“It’s best to jump in,” Jen advised, perching on the chair next to me. “If you think about it too much, you’ll get nervous. Just make everything up and check your facts later.”

“Okay.”

I wasn’t sure if that was good writing advice, but she seemed really excited, so I put the computer to sleep and followed her out of the library. Break was almost over anyway, and she had a lot to say about my alleged project.

“From what you were looking it, I’m guessing it’s paranormal. I can’t remember if I’ve ever read about psychic vampires, but bloodsuckers were really popular for a while. Do your mind-leeches sparkle?”

I thought of Colin Love and his air of predatory malice. “Nope.”

“That’s probably best if this isn’t fanfic.”

“No, it’s original.” And completely problematic. I can’t take much more. If the opposition was behind this, then they were winning. Honestly, for me, that would be the best possible outcome, because it meant Kian hadn’t betrayed me, and I’d brought the darkness through the deal, not careless, malicious words. It would be easier to bear if that were so. If bad things were happening because of Wedderburn because I wished them true …

I shook my head and gave Jen my full attention.

“If you want me to look at it once you finish, I’ll be happy to. I’m in an online group, but it’d be cool to have a local crit partner, too. We can trade feedback.”

“If I ever do. Right now it feels like there’s no solution to my problem.” That wasn’t what I meant to say; it just came out.

“Oh, are you stuck on the plotting?”

“Definitely.”

“Then tell me your scenario and I’ll see if I can figure it out. I’m really good at this. There’s a professional writer in my group, and I help her sometimes.”

“It’s kind of complicated.”

“Then we can Skype about it tonight.”

Remembering Vi … and Ryu, I wasn’t so sure it was a good idea to confide in Jen, even on a theoretical level.

“Maybe. Hey, there’s Davina. I haven’t seen her since—”

“Yeah.” Her face lost the animation my supposed story had generated. “We should hang out with her.”

I nodded and headed toward the other girl. Though she had always been thin, there was a new air of fragility about her, as if one more blow could break her. The Teflon crew are dropping fast. The impulse came on too strong to resist; right there in the hall, I hugged Davina and she gave as good as she got.

“Thanks. I didn’t see you at lunch.”

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know you were coming back today.”

“I didn’t want to, but my mom said a week was as long as she was giving me for a boyfriend I never introduced to her.”

That’s on Russ.

“I doubt my mom would give me a day, even if she did meet him,” Jen said.

“I need to talk to you two.” I’d never skipped, but we could hide on campus. The grounds were spacious enough that if you didn’t pass the gate, it was impossible to find you before class ended.

“I don’t want to be here anyway,” Davina muttered.

Jen didn’t answer, but she must’ve been curious because she followed me out. There was a steady stream of students walking between buildings, but I didn’t turn toward the Stinkatorium or the science complex. Instead I found us a quiet corner, nestled in the trees, out of sight from the main building. The groundskeeper was working on the other side of the property today, so we had some time. In the distance, I heard the final bell ring.

“So what’s up?” Jen asked.

I took a deep breath. Now I’d find out if they were really my friends. If not, my insanity would hit the fan and splatter all over school by the end of the day. The prospect didn’t even bother me, as things had gotten so screwed up that the idea of people saying mean things seemed like the least horrible consequence.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence, what happened to Russ and Brittany.” With judicious editing, I managed to tell the story without making it sound ridiculous. I concluded, “If you notice, it all started after that new teacher arrived.”

“You think Mr. Love is doing horrible things to students?” Davina sounded skeptical.

“I don’t have any proof,” I said. “But I’m concerned about you two. I mean, if I’m right and he’s taking revenge for someone else, then something bad could happen to you and Davina. In all honesty, Allison and Cam should be worried as well.”

But I don’t like them well enough to warn them.

“Should we talk to them?” Jen asked.

I nodded. “I doubt they’d listen to me, but I hope they’ll take you or Davina seriously.”

“We’ll try,” Davina promised.

I had no idea if the Lit teacher had anything to do with this, but I couldn’t dump a supernatural conspiracy on them, especially with me at the center. If I mentioned sides and game pieces, immortal monsters, diabolical corporations, and faceless evil, they’d just point and laugh before leaving. Davina and Jen traded a look while I dug at my cuticles, aware how sketchy this sounded. But their prior response seemed encouraging.

“There is something going on,” Jen said softly.

Davina was nodding. “The school feels different this year.”

So I wasn’t the only one who’d noticed. “I was so sure you’d both tell me I’ve been reading too much horror.”

“Then there was the thing you claimed you didn’t see at my house,” Jen went on. “By the way, you’re full of shit.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to say.”

Jen peeled a strip of bark from a nearby tree. “I can’t believe I’m even asking this, but … do you think Mr. Love is a brain limpet?”

I could almost resent how well their brains worked, considering how naturally pretty they were, too. “Yeah. It sounds crazy, I know.”

Davina shook her head. “Nothing has been right since school started. Russ changed as soon as we hit Blackbriar.”

“All I know is, I don’t want anything happening to the two of you” I said. “If there’s any way you can get out of Boston—”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Davina didn’t look hopeful, though. Given her scholarship, her parents would probably feel as if leaving would be the same as throwing away her future.

Jen said, “I might be able to convince my parents to let me visit my grandmother in Thailand, especially if I claim I had a dream about her. My mom’s a hardass but she’s really into signs and omens.”

“If you can’t get away, just … be careful, okay?”

“Definitely. I’ll keep an eye on Mr. Love, too.” Stepping out from the trees, Davina shaded her eyes with one hand. “It looks like we’ve got company.”

I saw him, too. The groundskeeper turned us over to the teacher in charge of miscreants, who then escorted us to see the headmaster. I couldn’t muster up a smidge of regret for missing class, however, as this had been a matter of life and death. We all listened to the lecture, but he went easy on us because it was a first offense, and he allowed that we were probably upset.

“Very,” Davina said with tearful eyes, and she wasn’t faking.

He dismissed us in time for last period, along with an admonishment not to let it happen again. I worried through my last class and practically sprinted to my locker to get my stuff. It felt like ages since Kian had picked me up after school last week, but there had been no date this weekend since I was grounded. The joint hug from my parents had been startling; my punishment was not. For good measure, they’d confiscated my computer and my phone, so I hadn’t heard from him either.

Today, Kian was waiting as close to the gate as he could without being on school property. Two strides carried him to my side and he pulled me into his arms. Burying my face in his chest, I breathed him in, lemons and spice from his soap. He kissed the top of my head and then we moved toward his car.

“Missed you,” he said.

“I’m still on restriction for another week,” I said.

His gaze ran over me like it had been much longer than a weekend. “I can take you straight home … or I can show you my new place.”

Temptation sashayed toward me and flashed a come-hither look. It was so easy to give in, such a relief from the relentless awful of my life otherwise. “I can realistically claim about an hour before my parents guess we took a detour. Will it take long?”

“Not if I leave the car here. We can swing by the condo and then I’ll take you home via Express Way.” The faint smile curving his mouth told me he was proud of that pun. Better yet, anyone who overheard us wouldn’t think it was a weird thing to say.

Luckily, showing me his new apartment fell under the heading of company business. I imagined Wedderburn rasping a cold chuckle as Kian charmed me according to instructions. But that’s exactly what’s happening. God, I hated myself for each little pinprick of doubt. Kian had taken so many risks for me over the past weeks and had never shown a hint that he was on anyone’s side but mine. I pushed all of the bad feelings out on a long breath.

“Let’s go.”

For the sake of appearances, he moved the car away from the school and parked on a residential street a few blocks away. Then he took my hand and pressed a button on his watch. We ported immediately, the world zooming out of focus in a stutter-skip that always unbalanced me. I stumbled a few steps, my head spinning as I took in pale walls and hardwood floors. A glance out the window told me I wasn’t far from Fenway.

“You got a place in my neighborhood?”

“I want to be nearby.” The ache in his voice made me want to kiss him.

Kian walked me through; it was a two bedrooms with a galley kitchen—nothing remarkable, but less isolated than the cabin. The furniture looked as if he’d bought someone’s rental property, including all contents. I supposed that made sense. But the result was another impersonal place, nothing unique to Kian.

“It needs some color. And some clutter. You need to set out your trophies and hang up your certificates. Put your books on the shelves. Dump your poetry journal on the end table. Start writing again. In other words, stop hiding who you are in a storage unit.”

He went to the window and leaned his head against the glass. I could taste the sadness in him, heavy and rolling like the sea. “If I do, then the next time something awful happens, I lose everything. I’m not as strong as you seem to think.”

Neither of us is unbreakable. We shattered, but we put the pieces back together, and I love the way your fractures shine. I came up behind him and put my palm between his shoulder blades. A quiver ran through him at my touch; sometimes I felt as if he were a piano tuned to my hands.

“I don’t think you’re a superhero or anything. But … sometimes you have to draw the line and fight for your ground. Fight, Kian. Take something for your own.”

He whirled then, lightning in his eyes. “You’re the only ground I won’t yield, Edie. Everything else is dust, and each time I walk away from you, I’m afraid it’s the last. You don’t know the deals I’ve made, the—” Swallowing hard, he clenched a fist. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I think you’d better tell me exactly what you mean.”

He stepped into my space and tangled his hands in my hair, tipping my face up. I should’ve insisted on an answer, but when he looked at me like that it was impossible for me to think. “You’re mine. How’s that?”

“It’s good,” I whispered.

“I’ll fight for you. I’ll draw all the lines around you. I’ve”—he brushed his lips teasingly, delicately, across mine—“never felt this way before.”

When I went up on tiptoe to kiss him back, kiss him more, he spun me and pressed me against the window. I twined my arms around his neck and held on; the longing was honey sweet and ferocious like a storm. He tasted me and I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his back, digging in with my fingers, because this feeling just couldn’t be real. Kian made a soft sound against my mouth, a growl or a whimper, and I shivered against him.

“I should take you home,” he whispered. “Or I won’t at all. I want you to stay.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“I know. Your life is complicated enough.”

Shaky nod, as I reached for him. He claimed my hand and whooshed us to the alley we’d used to depart for the SSP. “I’ll never get used to that.”

“And I’ll never get enough of you.” Kian devoured another kiss and another, until my knees went weak. Until meeting him, I hadn’t known longing for another person could come as a physical ache.

“Wow.” I swallowed hard and then hurried away before I begged him to take me back to his apartment.

It was crazy that I had to weigh everything now in terms of cause and effect. A night with Kian would be amazing, but I had enough stress in my life. When we slept together, I wanted the timing to be right. After waiting this long, sex shouldn’t be one of my regrets.