Shattered Mirror dos-3

by Amelia Atwater-Rhodes

  “What’s eating you?” one of their other group members demanded after he shot down yet another of their ideas. “If you don’t want to help, then just keep your mouth shut. Don’t make your bad day mine.”

  By the time the class was over Sarah was glad to get away from Robert—the human had been putting out waves of contempt and distrust strong enough that they were making her stomach churn. She would need to speak to him sometime soon, but not here, not in front of other humans.

  She had calmed down slightly by sculpture, where she continued to work on the sickly dog Nissa had named Splotch. Nissa finished her figure. Under her expert hands, the violinist gained clear Roman features, sympathetic eyes, and wicked, sensual lips.

  “Someone you know?” Sarah asked. The face was so vivid, so alive, she felt like she should recognize it.

  Nissa nodded, pausing in her work. “Yeah.” Her voice was soft, sad.

  “Who is he?”

  “A . . .” She trailed off, as if none of the words she had been thinking of would work. “Someone I used to love. His name is Kaleo.”

  Sarah’s heart skipped as she heard the name. Kaleo had a reputation for ruining lives on a whim, and changing young women into vampires whom he fancied himself in love with.

  If Nissa was one of Kaleo’s fledglings, Sarah had to pity the girl.

  “Anyway, it’s over,” Nissa stated. “I miss him sometimes, but . . . it’s over.”

  “Then why are you sculpting him?” The question was sharper than Sarah meant it to be.

  “He is beautiful,” the girl said wistfully. Then she jumped as the bell rang for lunch.

  They did not speak as they cleaned up their stations, and Nissa stayed behind to talk to the teacher while Sarah swung by her locker. Inside she found another present from Christopher—a picture of her left hand, which she had been writing with since she had broken her right arm.

  Her nails were cut short so they wouldn’t hinder her grip on her knife; there was a small scar on the back from the glass window she had punched the day her father had been killed. It looked like a pale teardrop.

  On the back of the drawing was another poem.

  Skin like ivory, perfect; A goddess, she must be.

  Slender fingers, unadorned; beautiful simplicity.

  A single teardrop; when did it fall?

  Could this goddess be mortal, after all?

  If only he knew,Sarah thought dryly. That scar was left over from the least perfect moment of her life.

  Yet somehow Christopher had made the flaw beautiful, no longer a badge of her dishonor, but a mystery for an artist to unravel.

  CHAPTER 6

  “CHRISTOPHER . . . are these from you?” she asked at lunch, careful to make her tone light as she placed the two picture-poems on the table. Christopher’s eyes fell to them, and he smiled.

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t ask if she liked them, and he didn’t seem embarrassed.

  Sarah was flattered, and somewhat surprised by Christopher’s easy confidence. Even so, her natural suspicion surfaced. “Why?”

  “Because,” he answered seriously, “you make a good subject. Your hair, for one, is like a shimmering waterfall. It’s so fair that it catches the light. It makes you seem like you have a halo about you. And your eyes—they’re such a pure color, not washed out at all, deep as the ocean. And your expression . . . intense and yet somehow detached, as if you see more of the world than the rest of us.”

  Flustered, she could think of no way to respond. Did he just say this stuff from the top of his head? Only her strict Vida control kept her from blushing.

  Meanwhile Nissa entered the cafeteria. She started to sit, then glanced from the pictures, to Christopher, to Sarah. “Should I go somewhere else?”

  Christopher nodded to a chair, answering easily, “Sit down. We aren’t exchanging dark secrets—yet.”

  Nissa flashed a teasing look to her brother as she took a seat. “As his sister, I feel the need to inform you, Sarah, that Christopher has been talking about you incessantly.”

  Christopher smiled, unembarrassed. “I suppose I might have been.”

  “Especially your eyes—he never shuts up about your eyes,” Nissa confided, and this time Christopher shrugged.

  “They’re beautiful,” he said casually. “Beauty should be looked at, not ignored. I try to capture it on paper, but that’s really impossible with eyes, because they have a life no still portrait can capture.”

  Sarah’s voice was tied up so tightly she thought she might be able to speak again sometime next year. No one had ever talked about her—or to her—with such admiration.

  Luckily, Nissa changed the subject. “Christopher is an incredible artist, but he refuses to take classes.”

  Christopher laughed, shaking his head. “I draw when I see something I need to draw; I can’t draw on command. Nissa convinced me to try an art class once, and I failed it.”

  They talked casually for the rest of lunch. Sarah found herself relaxing in their company as they told jokes and teased one another good-naturedly. Visions of shattered glass faded from her mind, replaced by light banter. This was easy; these people were kind. What could be evil in their friendship?

  “Sarah?” The voice just behind her left shoulder was questioning, a bit sharp.

  “Adianna.” The muscles in Sarah’s neck clenched so tightly she felt like they would tear when she turned her head.

  “Can I talk to you?” Adianna’s tone was pleasant, so it wouldn’t make the vampires suspicious, but the expression that glittered in her eyes was dangerous.

  “I’ll be right back.” Sarah gathered her backpack, leaving the two pictures on the table so as not to draw Adianna’s attention to them, and followed the other witch into the hall.

  “What was going on there?”

  “They’re in a few of my classes,” Sarah answered, forcing herself to be calm despite the fact that she felt like she was on trial during the Spanish Inquisition. “They’re perfectly harmless.”

  “To humans maybe,” Adianna answered instantly. “Not to our kind. What if Mother found out? You honestly think she would see them as ’harmless’?”

  “She won’t find out,” Sarah snapped, softly. “Could we have this conversation outside? If they try, they’ll be able to hear us here.”

  Adianna nodded and remained silent until they reached the hill outside the school. “Sarah . . .” She sighed. “What are you trying to do to yourself? Mother would throw a fit if she knew you were hanging out with their kind. Even I can barely stand the thought of it.”

  “Dominique doesn’t need to know everything I do during my life—”

  “Sarah!” Adianna’s voice was sharp, but Sarah knew it was more due to surprise and worry than censure. “I don’t understand why you would even want to spend your time with them, much less break Vida law to do so. As for what Mother does and doesn’t need to know—Dominique is the one who decides what information is her business, and you well know what she would think about your having vampiric friends.”

  “Are you going to tell her?” Sarah’s voice was soft, cool. She couldn’t stop Adianna if she insisted on going to Dominique, but she made it very clear by her tone that she would not easily forgive the betrayal.

  “Sarah, I understand what you’re going through.” There was obvious effort behind Adianna’s even tone. “I’ve been there. You aren’t one of the humans. You don’t have any friends here. You just lost some of your oldest hunting partners by moving here, and faced one of the closest encounters you have ever had with death. It’s understandable that you have doubts.”

  “I have no doubts.” Sarah had to take a breath to control herself before she continued. “They don’t know what I am—they think I’m human. They aren’t a threat.” After a pause she decided to speak the truth. “Haven’t you ever once wanted someone you could talk to about something besides killing? Someone who has no idea about your power and is simply a friend? It’s really ni
ce, Adianna. To have someone treat me like a human girl instead of like a killer is really,really nice. What’s even better is that I don’t have to worry every night whether some screwup of mine just got them killed. I don’t have to watch my back every moment—”

  “That is exactly why the law says you can’t befriend them,” Adianna interrupted. “Because you relax your guard. They are killers,Sarah. I don’t care if they don’t kill now, or even if they never touch a human and survive on animal blood. They kill by nature, and eventually that nature will destroy whatever shreds of humanity they may have left. If at that time they are still your ’friends,’ it will simply mean you are handy for a snack.”

  Adianna paused to collect herself, then added more softly, “I don’t want to lose you, Sarah. I don’t want you getting killed by these two when they turn on you—and note I say when, not if. But worse, I don’t want you getting killed for these two. Do you really care so much for them that you will risk getting yourself disowned?”

  “Adianna—”

  Adianna shook her head, looking tired. “I can’t physically stop you from talking to them, but I won’t let you get yourself killed for a leech’s friendship,” she stated clearly. “I won’t tell Mother what I’ve seen so far, but if you three get any closer, I will, while there’s still a chance that she’ll let you off with a warning.” She turned to leave, then added, “And, Sarah? If they ever get you hurt, whether they do it directly or it’s because Dominique finds out you have been talking to them, I will kill them myself.”

  Sarah wanted to respond with anger, but thought better of it. Adianna was letting her off easy, so she just nodded.

  “If you care about them like you claim to, leave your new friends alone,” Adianna suggested in a rare show of compassion. “Remember them fondly if you care to, but let go of them, or you’ll all end up dead.”

  Adianna glanced back toward the school. “I’m sorry to have to threaten you, Sarah. That wasn’t what I came here for.”

  “I figured.”

  “I came to tell you that Dominique is flying off this afternoon to train a group of amateur hunters, and I’ve just received a call to deal with some leeches up in Chicago. We should both be back in time for the holiday.” Sarah took in the news without surprise. If it had not been for Adianna’s attempts to keep her little sister informed, Sarah would probably never know where her family was. “You’ll be fine here?” Though phrased like a question, the last line was a statement. Sarah had spent plenty of time home alone when Adianna and Dominique were off on their various missions.

  “Be careful,” Sarah told her sister.

  Adianna answered seriously, “You too.”

  They separated, Sarah going back inside the school, and Adianna toward the parking lot.

  The bell had rung while Sarah had been speaking with Adianna, so she went immediately to her class, arriving late. Luckily, the teacher was tolerant because she was new to the school; Sarah was in no mood for a detention tonight. She had too much on her mind.

  What was she going to do about Christopher and Nissa?

  Adianna’s worries were legitimate—at least the ones involving Mother and Vida law. If Dominique found out about her budding friendship with two vampires, she would kill them.

  Sarah flexed her hand. Old phantom pain reminded her of the other danger. Sarah had had her powers bound once; she could not imagine what it would be like to have them stripped forever.

  Sarah almost convinced herself to give up her new friends, for their safety as well as her own. She managed to avoid Christopher’s questioning looks in calculus that afternoon, and she said nothing but a casual greeting in response to his hello after class.

  Christopher had to stay after to talk to the teacher, and Sarah managed to slip out before he was free. She was home, sitting on her bed, before she found his next gift tucked into her calculus notebook; she had no idea when he had managed to slip it there.

  It was another drawing—her, dressed in a pale gown. Above her outstretched left hand, the sun and the moon were suspended; she held the earth in her right hand. A sash was tied about her waist, embroidered with stars. In elegant script, a poem had been written down the page on the figure’s left side.

  Fantasy, a shining goddess,

  She controls the tides.

  Fantasy, a brilliant goddess.

  She controls our lives.

  Fantasy, a golden goddess—

  In her hands is the light.

  Fantasy, a silver goddess—

  In her hands is the night.

  Sarah got up and tucked the card into her desk. Next time she saw Christopher she would tell him the truth—about her family, and about all the laws she was breaking. She would tell him the truth, and he would be able to leave her alone without getting hurt.

  CHAPTER 7

  “SARAH,IS SOMETHING WRONG?” Nissa asked the next day during sculpture. “Christopher told me you were avoiding him yesterday afternoon . . . he was sure he had done something to offend you.”

  Christopher? Offend? She doubted he was capable of such a thing.

  Sarah grasped at, and then lost, a handy lie. “Look, I . . . it’s nothing really, okay?” Sarah said awkwardly. “I can’t really explain.”

  “That’s fine.” Nissa’s voice was soft, understanding. “If it’s none of my business, I’m not going to be a pain. But don’t just ditch Christopher—he’s a nice guy, and he deserves an explanation if you’re not interested.”

  By the time Sarah saw Christopher at lunch, her resolve to break off the friendship had wavered. He greeted her with a smile and a hello, not asking about her efforts to ignore him the day before.

  “Hey, I’m sorry about yesterday—”

  “No big deal,” Christopher answered easily. “I was kind of worried about you, but . . . well, if you’re talking to me again today, it can’t have been anything too awful.”

  “I’m sorry anyway.” But his light words and easy confidence made Sarah smile again. “Christopher—”

  “Look, we’ve got to duck out soon to meet with our partners about that history project,” Nissa apologized before Sarah could finish her sentence. “Are you sure you aren’t going to the Halloween dance this weekend, Sarah? It’ll be a lot of fun.”

  Sarah shook her head. Dominique would throw a fit if she missed the holiday celebrations. “I really can’t.” She debated asking them to meet up with her after the project, somewhere private where she could tell them and be done with it, but they were already on their way out before she could make up her mind.

  Christopher touched Sarah’s shoulder as he walked by, a casual gesture that nevertheless made her flinch; physical contact with a vampire made her skin crawl, no matter how weak he was. If he noticed the withdrawal, Christopher did not react to it.

  “Catch you later.”

  “Yeah.”

  A test kept them from talking in that afternoon’s calculus class, but Christopher caught Sarah afterward.

  “How’d it go?”

  The vampire rolled his eyes skyward. “Math is not my thing.” Changing the subject, he said, “I’ve got to run to a drama club meeting, so I can’t talk long now, but . . . well, since you can’t go to the dance, I was wondering if you might want to go for lunch on Saturday.”

  “I don’t know.” She did know, actually, and the answer was “Absolutely not.” Spending time with vampires at school, where she had little else to do, was one thing; spending time with them otherwise, when she could be training or hunting, was twisting the laws further than even she could rationalize.

  “Give me a call sometime, okay?” He jotted down his phone number on a piece of scrap paper, and then hurried away to his meeting.

  Sarah skimmed the paper after Christopher left, and tucked it into her pocket.

  Nine o’clock that evening found Sarah on the phone, trying without success to get through to Christopher or Nissa. Nissa was right—they both deserved more than to get a simple brush-off. She h
ad decided to call, arrange a time when they could talk, and tell them everything.

  Beep . . . beep . . . beep . . .

  The sickly B-flat of the busy signal sliced through her yet again, as it had every time she had heard it over the last two hours.

  She hung up the phone with a sigh, and pulled out the local yellow pages to find the Ravenas’ address. Her mind was made up, and she didn’t want to risk chickening out again. She patted the coat’s pocket to make sure her keys were in place, and instinctively checked for the knife on her back—a hunter never went anywhere without it—then slipped out to her car.

  As she drove, she found herself hoping wildly that Christopher and Nissa would tell her they were part of Single Earth. If they were, then even Dominique could not forbid Sarah to associate with them—it would be an insult against the witches who ran that organization. Dominique would be furious at her daughter, but she couldn’t kill them, or disown Sarah.

  Considering how weak they both are, they’re probably part of Single Earth,Sarah tried to reassure herself.Please, let them be in Single Earth.

  She jumped, swerving, as a squirrel darted in front of her car.Calm down, Sarah. Focus.

  Try as she might, her strict control was shattered. She had been purely scatterbrained all evening, and was grateful that she wasn’t expecting a fight tonight.

  As she parked in Christopher and Nissa’s driveway, she thought she heard faint music from the house, but it might have been her imagination. Bracing herself, she knocked on the door.

  CHAPTER 8

  SOMEONE SARAH DID NOT KNOW opened the door. Black eyes gave him away as a vampire, but his light aura showed him to be almost as weak as Nissa.

  “Come on in,” the vampire greeted her. Sarah could only nod mutely as she realized what was going on. She had just walked in on a bash.

  “Thanks,” she answered, dazed. The vampire gave her a strange look, but Sarah paid no heed to him, because her attention had just been drawn to a couple seated on the couch.