Deadly Darlings (October Darlings Book 2)

by Wendolyn Baird

  “Uh, uhm. I’m not really,” I stammer. “We ran into each other in the parking lot and uh, his family is very similar to mine?”

  Struggling to come up with a way to explain what exactly I’m doing having coffee with Tomas after not talking to Ellis or Sabrina for pretty much the entire last two hours is hard. Trying to figure how to tell him it’s about clairvoyant stuff without giving myself away in front of Yousef is harder. And making sure to not inadvertently drag Ellis deeper into this mess is hardest. Crap.

  Yousef flicks his eyes around, obviously looking for anywhere else to look because the tension is so thick. Just turning my head is like moving through water. Too bad for him, the coffeehouse is far from having enough distractions to make this evening enjoyable.

  “Is everything alright?” Tomas speaks up. Setting his caffeine monster of a drink down, he leans back in his seat and drums his fingers against the side of his leg.

  “No,” Ellis nearly growls. “Babe, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  Just when I thought I couldn’t get any redder...

  Following Ellis back into the parking lot, I glance at the birds overhead. No matter what privacy he’s seeking, we’re not actually getting it. Tomas and Ramona are both bound to hear everything through the grapevine. Not that I’m about to tell him that. Even if I weren’t questioning his safety, ratting out the twin’s secret, even to Ellis is a huge nope in my book.

  “What’s the deal?” Ellis demands. “You’ve been in a bad mood for at least a week! And now you’re blowing me off to hang out with a guy I thought you didn’t even like? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing!” I squirm under his disbelieving stare. “Uh, well... it’s just clairvoyant crap. Tomas can see spirits too and we’re trying to work together to get one off campus. Not that it’s going well, he really does throw me off. His sister too.”

  “When did you meet his sister?” He cocks his head, taken off guard.

  “She’s in my writing class.” I wave him off and cross my arms. The darker the night grows, the more the chill in the wind stings. “You’d know that if you would quit canceling on me all the time. I don’t expect you to hang out all the time, but when we make plans and you flake over and over, it hurts.”

  Ellis cringes, a dimple in his cheek deepening as he grimaces. Even now, in a hoodie and standing beneath the moonlight, all I can think is that he belongs to summertime. To simplicity. Happiness.

  “You know I can’t help my work hours,” he grumbles. “And you’re the one who bailed on me tonight.”

  “Sorry,” I frown, “I’ve been stressed and the idea of sitting around socializing wasn’t exactly my idea of fun.”

  “But getting coffee with Tomas? That’s fun?” Ellis glares down at me. The look on his face is so unfamiliar, it takes a moment to recognize it.

  “Hold up, are you jealous right now?” Of all the ridiculous things! “Of him? Ellis, I’m literally just trying to get a ghost off my back. That’s why I’ve been in a bad mood! That’s why I just wanted to go back to my dorm. I didn’t want you to have to get involved in any of this, not like last year.”

  Disregarding my response, Ellis shoots a glance through the window, where Yousef and Tomas are talking about something that looks way less stressful than my own conversation.

  “Whatever, it’s fine.” Ellis sighs. “It’s late. I’m going to get my coffee and head back to campus. See you tomorrow?” He rubs my arm and looks at me hopefully.

  “Yeah,” I agree listlessly. “Sure, of course.”

  I drop my head onto his chest as he wraps me in a quick hug and kisses the top of my head. But when I raise my face for a better kiss, a flutter of wings that are too large to exist jump past the moon. Ellis presses his mouth to mine, automatic and distant, and my lips move against his the same way, but I can't look away from the sky.

  A trail of violet trickles across the stars, and walking back into the building, my limbs are numb from more than the cold.

  “I’M TELLING YOU, MARLOWE,” I groan, “it was the weirdest, most awkward argument thing I’ve ever gotten into with him!”

  Finally, back in my dorm, I checked on Sabrina and immediately started burning the graveyard mint when I saw she was asleep. I’d love to talk to her about tonight, but since my problem has to do with Sabrina as well... Marlowe was a better choice of a confidant.

  “It’s not like I’ve had much experience with relationships since, you know, I died, but I can imagine it wasn’t all that bad. He could have accused you of cheating on him.” Marlowe flips over in midair, laying on an invisible mattress just about at my eye level. Her hair flops below her body and hangs like the skin of an animal on a hunter’s wall.

  Shivering, I push the idea of animal pelts away from my brain and squeeze my eyes shut. The image of Ellis’ hurt expression is no better of a thought.

  “But that isn’t the worst that can happen,” I admit softly. Biting my lip, I curl up against the wall, hugging my legs so that I can rest my chin on my knees. The thin flannel of my pajama pants does little to halt the chill of the October air drifting through the thin glass of the window, and in the dark of night, the pale light of the moon is no solace. Instead, the celestial body is cold and unyielding, like I’m being judged by the entire sky.

  “I can’t be sure,” Marlowe wonders out loud, “but if you really think this other spirit is dangerous enough to hurt your friends, wouldn’t it be better to give them a heads up?”

  “No,” I frown, “because they won’t care enough to stay away from me anyhow. And besides, even if I can get rid of this one, what about the one after that? Or the one after that? According to Tomas, I’ll probably be attracting these things for my entire life.”

  “At least you have a life.” Marlowe grumbles resentfully, but when I glance at her, she’s serenely counting tiles on the ceiling. I personally try to avoid looking at that water-stained surface, but to each their own.

  A prickle of embarrassment makes its way to my face, and with hot cheeks, I respond, “I know, I know. This is all a little petty. But I’m just scared that what happened to you will happen to them.”

  Turning her wide, violet eyes my way, Marlowe turns over and twists her mouth to the side. “If that’s the case,” she says, “then drop them now. Love them enough to let them live, even if it means without you. Take it from me, take it from Beau... being dead sucks.”

  She’s radiating so much cold; my teeth begin to chatter, and rows of goosebumps race up my arms. The pencil holder on my desk is rattling, and one of Sabrina’s abandoned shoes falls into its side.

  “Okay, okay!” I stretch out my legs and raise my hands. “I’ll just distance myself more.”

  There are just three problems with that solution. One, it sucks. Two, I tried that last year and both Ellis and Sabrina were too set on standing by me for it to work. Then there’s three. I live with Sabrina. How the hell do you distance yourself from a roommate that sleeps only a few feet away from you?

  Sighing, I bid Marlowe good night and blow out the candles. Staring out into the deep night, I wish there was a better solution. But I guess Ramona might just be right after all.

  Padding across the threadbare carpet, I gather a warmer pair of sweatpants and more clean clothes and brace myself for the cold tile of the bathroom. I won’t be able to sleep if my stomach doesn’t stop twisting in knots, and there’s no point in attempting homework when I can’t stop replaying what a complete failure today was. Water is cleansing, hot, and calming. I need that.

  Our small, shared bathroom consists of four matching cabinets and drawers, two sinks, a toilet, and a shower. The shower is so small, my elbows jar against the walls whenever I lift my arms to wash my hair. But still, it’s better than the communal stalls the other freshman dorm is equipped with.

  Lathering shampoo into my hair, I allow the steam to hit my face as the water kneads into the sore muscles of my back. Letting myself relax is a conscious effort, and even as my shoul
ders droop and my neck ceases aching, I still can’t rid myself of guilt.

  My fingers catch the errant tangles in my hair, but instead of meeting snarls at the ends of my locks, my hands brush against something small and moving.

  A jolt of fear shoots through me. Stumbling forward I slam into the shower wall and my heart skips against my rib cage. Again, I raise my hand to my hair, this time gingerly. Cautiously, I peel the moving object out of my tangles.

  A white, writhing creature rests between my fingers, and with my stomach jumping into my throat, I recognize it as a maggot. Before I can think anything beyond, ew! another object drops onto my shoulder.

  Then another something. And another.

  Pure panic sends stars dancing in front of my eyes, and as a cascade of maggots fall from the showerhead, I manage to hit the handle enough to shut off the water before slumping to the floor. Tiny, wriggling larvae cover my head and shoulders, and the last thing I can focus on before blacking out is complete and utter horror.

  Chapter Eight

  I COULDN’T HAVE IMAGINED a worse way to wake up than covered in maggots, freezing cold, and naked on the floor of a shower stall. Unfortunately for me, my lack of imagination doesn’t keep it from actually happening.

  Opening my eyes, nausea consumed me, but more than that, the low, mournful howling outside my door took precedence over the larvae falling off of me. The water isn’t working, and as I reach for a towel to scrub myself off at the very least and cover myself up, a sharp, skittering noise scrapes against my eardrums.

  Frantically shaking myself off and throwing on clothes, I let my wet hair cling to my neck and do my best to ignore my terror. But my legs are numb, and I can barely stand. The noise is getting louder, and my hands shake as I struggle to open the bathroom door.

  I need to get to Sabrina. I need to warn her. I need to get to Sabrina...

  The noise moves closer, until it's just outside our door.

  With freezing fingertips, I place one hand on Sabrina's shoulder and turn her over, leaning to see her face. Even in the dull light from the bathroom door, Sabrina’s pinched expression seems wrong, and before I can process the reason why, her eyes snap open.

  “You have such a beautiful smile,” a much older, creaking voice of a woman draws out. Sabrina’s irises are sheened over with the cloudy color of death, and my heart stutters a beat. This can’t be happening, not again.

  Dark entities can sometimes manifest as doppelgangers; near exact copies of friends and loved one’s intent on harming you. But if the spirit is in here... where is Sabrina?

  “Will your mouth be as beautiful when you’re screaming and begging me for death?”

  Stumbling back, I barely feel Frank scurrying to my side, and a swirl of magenta flashes in front of my eyes and I can hardly see the doppelganger's form beyond it. She— it— rises from the bed, jerking in unnatural poses as the air grows still.

  My hands curl at my sides, nails piercing my palms, and as my mouth fills with blood while I bite through my lip, I will my relatives to come to my side. I’ve never summoned them without physically burning the graveyard mint, but a light glows at the windowsill as a new flame ignites in my candles. A strand of mint snags the flame, and the room fills with hazy images, all lined in pink.

  Marlowe, my Uncle Robert, my grandmother, even little Beau. They form a wall around me, circling closer to the disfigured semblance of my best friend.

  With my pulse pounding in my ears and water still on my feet, I throw myself out the door and down the hall.

  Staggering down the stairs, I slip several times, banging my arms on the railings and stubbing my bare toes, but it doesn't matter. I’m so overwhelmed with nausea and dread; I could be running over glass and still keep moving...

  Sabrina is missing and that thing was in my room the entire time I talked to Marlowe. It turned my shower water into maggots and threatened me with more than death.

  My heart keeps track with the steady pounding of my feet against the hard sidewalk, and as I run blindly through the night, my lungs catch in pain and desperation.

  Frank managed to snag onto the bottom of my pant leg, and he clings to the fabric of my wet clothes, beckoning a small army of arachnids from the shadows. Scorpions from every nook and cranny spread out in my wake, but I can’t stop running.

  Not until I find her.

  A flurry of feathers hit my face as I duck under low hanging branches. Deathly black birds scatter from the trees, and sobbing, I beg them for help.

  But nobody comes.

  My feet begin to bleed, and still the chill at my spine refuses to relent. The pounding in my head reassures me of the threat, and everything I see is covered in a haze of magenta, causing my eyes to burn.

  Pushing forward and choking on my own blood and sweat as I gasp against the frigid air, I keep moving until I reach Ramona’s door.

  My hands are so cold, I can barely hold them steady enough to knock at the door, but I slam my palms against the wood as my vision begins to fade.

  “Help me,” I sob. “Help Sabrina.”

  The door swings open as my legs go out, and I tumble forward through the air, certain we’re all about to die.

  QUIET VOICES ARGUE incoherently when I come to. Every inch of my body aches, and my arms are pressed tightly to my sides, stuck under layers of thick blankets. Early morning sunshine is filtering through thin blinds, and the cozy room I’m in is covered with graphite drawings and maps.

  For a few moments, my mind is blank, and I stare in confusion at the pale, grey walls, and the narrow dresser in my line of sight. The comforter tucked under my chin is a deep blue and reeks of sage and something bitter that might be incense. Even my fingers are difficult to move, and my knuckles protest the miniscule progress I make in forming a fist.

  Blinking against the weary fatigue threatening to pull me under once more, my memories filter in, and with them, so does fear.

  My chest aches as I fight against the blankets, struggling to free my body from the cocoon I’ve been wrapped in. Ramona may have helped me off the porch, but did anybody ever go looking for Sabrina? She could be hurt, or stuck somewhere, or... no I can’t even think about that.

  My foot catches on the sheet when I try to stand, and I fall to the floor with a jarring thud that sends bile to the back of my throat. Lifting my head, I'm so dizzy, I can hardly hold myself up enough to crawl, let alone to stand. I’ve really got to get a handle on my magic if I’m going to use it again.

  At the sound of me hitting the ground, the voices cease, and a stampede of footsteps exacerbate my pounding headache. Familiar, boring boots reach my side and I know Tomas has found me. Beside him, a shrill shriek of worry lets me know that Ramona is there as well.

  “Are you okay? Here, let us help you!” Ramona rushes forward pulling at my arm, and I jerk away.

  Mumbling past my swollen lip, my tongue brushes against irritated wounds as I brush her off. “Don’t worry about me, you need to find Sabrina. It was in my room; it had her form!” I’m not sure how much they can understand me as I lisp out my message, but I press on. “It’s my fault, it's going to hurt her!”

  “Addie, Addie, no, shh.” Firm hands press against my forehead, then shift around my middle and to my back. Tomas lifts me effortlessly, and my heavy head flops onto his chest. “Sabrina is fine. She’s fine,” he whispers soothingly. To his sister, he adds, “we should try to get a hold of her boyfriend again. He’s probably awake by now.”

  “No!” I cry. Tears burgeon at my eyes and run down my cheeks. “No, I can’t hurt him too! I won’t!”

  “Okay, we won’t call him, I promise,” Ramona insists.

  Tomas sets me back on the mattress and Ramona pulls the blankets up automatically, working to tuck me in like a child. I want to protest, but I’m in too much pain.

  Tomas massages my forehead and temples as his sister covers me with blankets, and their anxious faces make the stone in my stomach so much worse.

  �
��I think she needs some medicine. She doesn’t look right,” he murmurs to Ramona. “Addie, are you okay?”

  Even swallowing is difficult, but I manage to shake my head tersely. “Pain,” I rasp out. Surely Ramona caught sight of my bloodied heels last night. Shuddering, my eyelids flutter as I hope there aren’t still maggots clinging to my hair.

  The two exchange glances, and Ramona leaves to presumably rummage through her medicine cabinet and hopefully bring me some water. In her absence, Tomas leans down and examines my face uncomfortably closely. What he’s searching for, I'm not sure.

  “Ramona went straight to your room last night after we got you settled,” he explains.

  We? He was there last night? I guess that makes sense— I doubt Ramona could have carried me to bed. If I was any less tired, that thought might have made me blush, but as it is, I only blink and wait for him to continue.

  “The spirit was gone, and Sabrina had just gotten in from visiting a friend. She asked where you were and was mad about a candle you left burning. Ramona cast a protective layer around Sabrina before coming home. She’s safe,” he repeats again.

  “So, she had no idea anything was even wrong?” I rasp out.

  Tomas shakes his head and shrugs. “She said she was out with a friend. Honestly, after Ramona told her it was spirit related, Sabrina got pretty pissed off. From what I was told, she threw the candles and a burnt-up plant at Ramona and told her to get out. I guess she was mad that Ramona wouldn’t give her any details.”

  Or Ramona told her to stay away from me to save herself.

  I slowly shut my eyes and try to will myself into unconsciousness again. What’s the point of being awake when everything is either terrifying or depressing?

  “You can’t hide from yourself forever,” Tomas murmurs from beside the bed. The mattress tilts and I roll onto my right side unwillingly, moving with the mattress as he sits.