I sneak back to our room to find Kara putting on makeup, something I’ve never seen her do. Her headphones are on, and she’s swaying her head in between touches to her face, which lights up in a smile when she sees me. I try not to seem surprised by her happy mood.
“Did you have fun last night?”
“Did you?” she smirks at me.
“Not really. I had to walk back by myself thanks to you. Did you even realize I left?”
“Of course. You’re a big girl.”
“Someone has to be.” It sounds sharper than I meant it to come out.
“We’re supposed to recruit this morning,” she reminds me, changing the subject.
I sigh. “Okay. Where to?”
“To a nearby villa?” I watch her brush out her hair, only to twist and clip it into a messy bun. With her hair out of the way, and now that I know it’s there, I can just see part of her snake tattoo.
“So, were you on the Africa mission with Will when he said he died?” I ask. Maybe she could explain the miracles Meredith spoke of with such cryptic reverence.
Kara turns to me, suddenly serious. “No. I made the Africa thing up. Besides, I really don’t want to talk about our missions. I just want to pretend we’re normal young people traveling through Europe. On an adventure, not a stupid mission no one wants to join. I’ve been done with the Kingdom for a long time now, in case you can’t tell.”
My heart jumps with frustration. And fear. “Why did you come here, then?” And why in the world were you assigned as my DP? I want to ask.
“Because my mother thought it would be a good idea for too many reasons.” She exhales an incredulous snort. “I tried to tell her nothing good could come of this, but she refused to listen, and now I’m just done.”
I cannot seem to articulate anything.
“Emily, I’m going to be very honest with you. Do you mind?”
I wait for the explanation I’ve needed since day one.
“You need to stop asking so many questions and just come with me,” she says.
I take a deep, frustrated breath. “Why?” I ask.
“Because, as your DP, I think it’s the best thing for you.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and tilts her forehead down as if communicating with a child. “I’m worried about your soul, Emily.”
I squint at her in confusion.
Kara’s tone fluctuates from one moment to the next, and sometimes it’s very hard to tell whether or not she’s joking.
She narrows her eyes in a serious expression. “I think you need to feed it a giant breakfast and take it for another cold dip in the pool.”
“Naked?” I say. I can hear the judgmental tone in my voice, and I’m not sure whether to be proud of this, or embarrassed by it. I want to ask her about the tattoo again. About Africa. And Will. About the conversation I just overheard. But it’s clear I’ll never get answers from her.
Kara laughs. “No, silly. We’ll buy bathing suits.”
“With what money? I still don’t have my credit cards or traveler’s checks. Or my passport and Eurail Pass, for that matter.”
Kara grins knowingly. She has a plan. Of course.
“What will the others say when we aren’t back here for lunch?” I ask, resigned. I’ve come to accept that once Kara has it in her mind to do something, there’s no stopping her.
“I’m guessing they’ll say, ‘Yay! More food for us.’” She tilts her head back, laughing at her own joke. “Besides, they’re supposed to be recruiting, which is what we’ll be doing too.”
“So are you recruiting Kevin and—”
“David?” She smiles a dreamy, faraway expression. “Absolutely not. No way. And they can never know why we’re really here.”
I’m filled with dread and confusion and an annoying sense of anger. “No thanks, Kara. Have fun,” I say as I burrow back into bed and pull the covers over my head to tune out the sound of her tearing through drawers and shoving things into a suitcase. I’m relieved when she finally leaves, knowing she failed to convince me to follow her.
Soon after Kara leaves, I hear giggling, people talking in English, all in cheerful voices.
I hear Eva’s Texas drawl outside, and then another round of laughter. A sense of dread builds in my chest as I get dressed and stumble into the bright sunlight. Dolce runs to me and rubs on my leg. I scratch under her chin and head down into the vineyard, where I hear more voices. As I approach, someone calls my name. Josh.
I stop at the edge of Josh’s picnic blanket where he pats the ground for me to sit beside him. “Come eat,” he says, holding out a plate. I take in the spread of fresh food on multiple blankets. Where did all this come from? Josh smiles as I sit beside him. Finally we can talk.
I’m pondering what to say to Josh when Eva jumps up with a bunch of grapes and yells, “Hey! Guess who I am?!” She’s standing like a statue holding the grapes just above Todd’s mouth. Everyone is busy eating, so she makes a dramatic whining sound and says, “The goddess of grapes! Duh.”
I force a smile while nibbling on a lemon cookie. Everyone seems giddy, but in an off-kilter sort of way. It’s like they’re drunk off their full stomachs. How am I going to pull Josh away without anyone noticing? Just as I start to whisper to Josh, Andrew snaps at Eva, “There’s no such thing as a goddess of grapes.” He rolls his eyes. “There’s Dionysus, the god of wine, but Dionysus is a he, so that doesn’t quite work for you.” His tone infects the picnic with a sudden tension, but Eva seems oblivious to anything except acting out this bizarre scene with Todd.
“Okay, fine.” Eva pouts. “I was just trying to be a goddess, you know, like those Halloween costumes.” Todd nips a low grape off the bunch in Eva’s hand and dramatically moans with satisfaction as she smiles down at him and lifts the grapes higher, teasing him. I glance at Josh, hoping his reaction will give me a clue as to what’s going on with everyone, but he’s gingerly stacking salami and cheese onto a cracker.
“Eva!” Shannon barks, her hands on her hips. “You are not the goddess of anything. And we don’t even joke around about pagan gods,” she says in a shushing voice. “It’s blasphemy to the Kingdom.”
Todd stands to face off with Shannon. “Hey. Maybe you could tell us why we have all this food today,” he taunts. I look to Josh again for guidance. He lifts his eyebrows in a this-is-entertaining-but-it-isn’t-our-business gesture. Shannon’s face flames red. I can’t help but feel a tinge of satisfaction; Shannon’s authoritative attitude as of late has gone from annoying to unsettling and she needed to be put in her place. But the air is charged with a sense of mutiny today, and the shifted dynamic is making me uneasy.
“Oh, I know the answer,” Andrew chimes in, eager to stir the pot. “Eva bought us all food with her paycheck.” He turns to point at Shannon. “And where’d you get that outfit, Shan? I’ve never seen it before until today. Is it designer?”
Eva smiles triumphantly. I catch Andrew sneaking an anxious glance back at the villa. I suddenly notice Lily isn’t here. What’s going on? And where are Will and Ben?
As Shannon stomps off to sulk, Eva immediately rushes to her side and puts an arm around her. “Oh, come on, Shannon. We’re just kidding. You know that, right? I’m really sorry.”
Shannon pulls away. “We’ll discuss it later. We can add it to your list of things to discuss,” she hisses.
Eva’s expression changes to worry. She grabs an apple from our spread of food and walks to the edge of the vineyard toward my building as if getting away from Shannon.
“Josh,” I finally say as he pops a cookie into his mouth.
“Sorry. I’m starving,” he says, laughing with a mouth full of cookie. I laugh with him, relieved that things between us seem closer to normal again. Just as I reach for a cookie, a piercing scream echoes through the vineyard.
It’s Eva.
She screams again.
Josh is already running toward her by the time I jump to my feet. He yells for us not to come back there,
but it’s too late. I’m already right behind him.
“Holy—” someone behind me says. Dolce is making a constant yowling sound that I know I will never be able to erase from my memory. Her front leg is swollen and bleeding, her tiny body writhing with every yowl. Her back legs convulse uncontrollably.
I choke in air, trying to process what’s happening. Eva starts pacing around Dolce, her hands covering her high-pitched heaving sounds. She doubles over and stares at the ground like she’s going to throw up.
Bile rises in my throat. “What happened?”
Todd leans over Dolce. “It looks like something bit her,” he says. Dolce’s legs slow and then stop twitching, as if suddenly paralyzed. Her eyes are vacant and afraid, and she never stops making the horrible sound. Todd shoots me a worried glance and looks away. Goose bumps spread like a rash on my arms as I remember the snake in my room.
My face turns numb. I want to scream, but my throat is so dry I can’t talk. I scan the area in a panic. I don’t see anything except Dolce crying in agony.
Josh shoves Todd aside and heads straight for the nearby shed. He emerges with a shovel, his face determined and red with anger.
“Turn around,” Josh says.
We stand there frozen, staring back at him in shock.
“TURN. AROUND. NOW.”
And as I do, the sound of the shovel slicing through the air and a dull thud puts an immediate end to the yowling, and our poor kitten’s misery.
Eva sobs with short, erratic gasps in between, her hands over her eyes. Shannon shows no emotion. I notice her hands shaking as she steps up to comfort Eva. Filled with a mixture of horror and gratitude for Josh’s willingness to take on the unthinkable, a roaring shockwave expands in my head.
Everyone else is silent until Shannon’s matter-of-fact voice breaks through the chaos: “It was God’s will.”
I open my eyes to see Josh gently scooping Dolce with his shovel, before walking away to bury Kara’s kitten. Kara. I’ll have to tell Kara. I close my eyes and sit down on the ground, hugging my arms around myself. I press my forehead against my knees. I want to cry, but I can’t. I want to scream, but I can’t. Something has hijacked my ability to process any of this.
“It’s okay. It was God’s will.” Shannon repeats it over and over again to no one in particular.
Rage begins to cloud my vision. I stomp off toward Josh.
“How am I going to tell her?” I sound angry. I am angry.
Josh looks up from the fresh mound of dirt. “That depends. Where is she?” he asks me.
This is the first real one-on-one conversation I’ve had with Josh since we got to Italy, and it’s while he’s burying a kitten. The whole situation is so absurd that it almost makes me laugh, but then I notice the blood splattered on Josh’s legs as he tamps dirt over Dolce’s grave. Nothing about this is funny.
“I can’t say,” I answer. This is not how I wanted this conversation to go, but I’ve lost control of everything, and it’s clear I won’t be getting it back.
He turns to me and leans into his shovel. “You can’t say because you don’t know, or because you refuse to tell me?”
I stare at the ground, trying to figure out how to fix all this. Where would I even start?
“You keeping secrets from me now? After this?” He glances down at the mound under his shovel. He looks up, his eyes pleading with me. “After everything?”
I want to scream, After what? I came on this mission for me, yes, but also for him, as pathetic as that may sound. And he’s made no effort to even speak to me until now, as if changing time zones completely changed his feelings for me.
“I would never betray the confidence of my DP,” I say defiantly. And with that, I stomp away.
* * *
As I walk up the hill in the dark, I hear music coming from the villa where the Americans are staying. The windows flicker with lit candles. The sound of carefree togetherness feels out of place after what I’ve just seen. A sense of homesickness expands in my chest.
“Emm-y!” It’s the girl with the streaked hair. “Oh, look! You’re actually wearing clothes!” She laughs and pulls the knot on her silky wrap skirt. I’m surprised she remembers me at all, so I don’t correct her for getting my name wrong. And, for a moment, I realize how easy it would be to simply become someone else, especially around this group. She leans in for a cheek-to-cheek kiss, leaving the syrupy scent of wine between us. “Let’s get you some vino.”
“Oh, I can’t …” I start to protest, but she guides me through the living area down a hallway where I smell the lingering aroma of garlic and onions. I’m starving.
“Kiki is cooking. Doesn’t it smell amazing?” She stops at a side table full of wine bottles with differing levels of emptiness to pour me a glass.
“Oh. No, thanks,” I say, my hand up. “I’m okay.”
She gives me a condescending look and waves the glass under my nose. “Oh, no-no-no. You have to try it. We went all the way to Montalcino yesterday and bought two cases. You’ll never taste a better Chianti in your fucking life.”
I smile politely and take a quick swig, even though I know it’s against the Kingdom rules. “No alcohol whatsoever,” Heather told me in Boston, which was fine with me since I’d never been a big drinker, but this Chianti tastes so good that even the one sip helps to calm my nerves. I make an approving sound and take another, hoping it will erase the memories of such a horrendous day.
“Jenna!” a male yells from the kitchen.
“Coming …,” she answers in a singsong-y voice as she rolls her eyes and slips away.
I sip the wine and walk down a hallway toward voices. I am someone else. I am someone else. Kara’s voice startles me.
“Well, well, well. Look at you drinking the Kool-Aid. As they say, when in Tuscany …” I turn around to see Kara in a bikini with a man’s button-down shirt as a cover-up. Her voice is sharp and sarcastic, and I honestly can’t tell if she’s happy to see me. She leans forward. “You’re alone, right?” she whispers.
“Yes,” I say. I take another drink of wine and my eyes well up. “There’s something I have to talk to you about.”
“I disagree,” Kara says. “There will be no talking about anything tonight. And I make the rules, all right?” She takes my arm and leads me back toward the table of wine.
The guy wearing the same plaid shirt from the night at the pool appears from a nearby hallway. “Another rule? Oh, come on,” he jokes to Kara as if they’ve known each other for years. I’m in awe of her ability to assert control over complete strangers so quickly.
“Where’d you get the swimsuit?” I ask, trying to hide my extended stare at her tattoo. Even the scales on the snake are visible up close. I notice its open mouth is black instead of the red tongue normally depicted in snake images.
“Turns out I’m Jenna’s same exact size,” she says, pouring her own glass of wine.
The tall guy with round glasses walks up. His button-down shirt—suspiciously similar to Kara’s—is as disheveled as his brown hair. Something about him is attractive, though not in a conventional way, and I’m worried for Kara. “Calm down, man,” he says to his friend, pushing Kevin away from us. He puts his arm around Kara, his hand lingering suggestively around her waist, falling almost to her hip.
“Nice to see you back. You’re just in time to eat with us.” He takes my glass and refills it to the top with wine. “Emily, right? Kara’s told me all about you,” he says as he hands the glass back to me.
Kara lifts her eyebrows and nudges him.
“Okay. I guess I need to check on dinner,” he says before sauntering off.
“What did you tell them?” I whisper forcefully.
“Oh, just that we’re backpacking after graduating college and completing a stressful mission with the Peace Corps.”
“What?”
She laughs abruptly. She’s probably been drinking wine all day. How am I going to get us back to our room without anyone el
se seeing us?
“Kara. Seriously. What did you say about us?”
She takes another drink and smiles. “Peace Corps. Africa. Now backpacking.” She points to the rounded curves of her breasts, barely contained by the patterned triangles of her top. “In a bikini.” She snickers, clearly drunk.
I’m warm and light-headed myself. From a vague faraway place in my brain, I know I need to think of a plan, to focus. I need to get us out of here. “Kara. It’s about Dolce,” I say.
“Oh! I’m so glad you reminded me. Would you feed her for me?”
“Um … I don’t— Wait. Where are you going?”
Kara narrows her eyes at me. “I’m not going anywhere.” She adjusts the elastic on her bathing suit bottom with a decisive pop.
“Kara. I know you’re having fun with these people, but you can’t just stay here.” My panic rises. It hadn’t occurred to me that Kara wouldn’t want to come back at all. Explaining why she’s drunk is one thing; explaining why she disappeared is another.
“David invited me to go wine tasting with them tomorrow, so I am staying, actually.”
“For the night?” My anxiety begins to rise.
“Seriously, Em. Don’t be a buzzkill!” She pushes me, spilling my wine on her arm. Kara exhales in belligerent frustration as she wipes the wine with her—or I assume David’s—shirt, leaving a dark stain. “Just go, okay?” she says.
I inhale sharply to contain my anger. “Okay. Fine. What am I supposed to say when someone asks about you?”
“Easy,” she says. “Just find Ben and tell him that his joke was not funny.” She lowers her voice to whisper, “Also, tell him you recognize my tattoo, and I promise you no one will ask one single fucking thing about anything else we do.”
* * *
My mind is spinning when I get back to the villa. I head straight to my room. I gasp when I open my door.
Josh is standing by my bed, just as surprised as I am. The room is a mess from Kara’s noisy packing rampage before she left.
Those Who Prey Page 17
