by Sara Clancy
Anger had become a hard lump in his chest, so he left everything else unsaid.
“That wasn’t the only time you were followed, was it?” Nicole asked softly.
“The only time it was for sexualized reasons. And, you know, proven in the court of law.”
Nicole watched him carefully, studying his expression before venturing to ask.
“What happened to Hachiro?”
“We got a restraining order. Could have pushed for more, but my parents thought the court process would be too traumatizing for me. We came here instead.” A bitter snort escaped him. “But I guess they’re not really my parents, are they? Should I still be calling them that?”
“They did raise you.”
“And they emotionally abandoned me that second they realized I wasn’t theirs,” he counted.
There was no need to disguise just how much that hurt him. Nicole would understand. She wouldn’t judge.
“I don’t want to overstep−”
“Hold up. Are you telling me that you’ve understood the concept of personal boundaries this whole time?”
He succeeded in getting her to smile despite herself.
“When you’re ready, you really should talk to them.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because they might have an idea of what happened to your birth parents. And finding them would make it a lot easier to understand what you are.”
“Any chance you can find them without Cheyanne and Theodore getting involved?”
She shrugged sheepishly.
“You’ve been trying this whole time, haven’t you?”
“Just a little.”
“What about the monster?”
“I can multitask.”
Benton huffed a laugh and tipped his head to the side, letting it rest against the sofa’s backrest.
“What have you found out?”
“You were a super chubby baby,” she giggled.
“Anything more helpful?”
A sharp knock interrupted her response. Nicole checked her watch and hurriedly began to extract herself from her cozy nest of horrors.
“That would be Zack. He’ll have the notes for our chemistry assignment.”
Benton rolled his eyes but followed. “You remember that we were suspended, right?”
“Being suspended isn’t a holiday.”
It was a statement she had repeated so often that he could now mockingly mouth it along with her. It wasn’t the most creative of insults, but worked well enough. She jabbed him with her elbow as they headed for the door. Ever cautious, Nicole checked the door’s peephole before working on the locks.
“Now remember, Zack has been good to us and is still coming to terms with you being a Banshee.”
“And killing flesh-eating ghosts in a haunted forest.”
“Yes, and that.” Swift fingers unfastened the chain lock. “Do you think you can be pleasant today?”
“I’m always pleasant. Don’t look at me like that. It’s not my fault that you have high standards. Lower them and I’m a dream.”
Rolling her eyes, she pulled the door open.
“Hey, Zack. I baked some muffins today if you’re hungry.”
Benton’s attention wasn’t captured by Zack’s response but by the lack of one. Zack towered over them, staring over their heads at the distant wall. Snowflakes clung to his long, ebony hair. The chill had forced a flush to his tawny skin and his arms hung loosely by his sides.
Benton’s gut twisted sharply.
There wasn’t time to back up before Zack charged past Nicole and wrapped his hands around Benton’s neck.
Chapter 7
Nicole hit the ground hard and slid until the foyer wall stopped her. The hard blow to her chest had knocked the air from her lungs. Gasping, she tried to force her lungs to work, clenching her teeth against the pain that sparked along her veins. White static filled her skull.
Her brain just couldn’t make sense of what had happened. She had known Zack since birth. The last time he had raised a hand against her, they had both been in diapers. The first deep breath brought a new wave of pain and the fear that her sternum had cracked. How is he this strong? The slam of the front door snapped her out of her daze. She was alone.
“Benton.” The name passed her lips with barely more strength than a whisper. “Benton!”
Dragging herself up onto her feet, she stumbled to the door, her legs refusing to work as her mind swirled. She wrenched the door open. Gripping the threshold to keep upright, she started, unable to believe what she was seeing. Zack had one hand around Benton’s neck, squeezing tight enough to turn his pale face red. Benton’s heels dug deep grooves through the snow as he struggled to break free. He clawed at Zack’s hand and kicked wildly, but nothing he did slowed the taller boy down.
“Zack! Stop it!”
Nicole sprinted forward. In the same instant, Benton kicked out, driving his foot into Zack’s leg with all of his strength and forcing his knees to buckle. The sudden jerk didn’t bring Zack to the ground. It only loosened his grip enough for Benton to rip himself free. He didn’t take more than a step before Zack grabbed hold of him again, this time throwing Benton hard against the side of the truck. It rocked under with the force of impact. Rage and pain flashed through Benton’s eyes as his chest swelled. Zack’s hands latched onto Benton’s throat again. With both hands, he crushed the Banshee’s wail before it could be released.
Nicole threw herself onto Zack’s back. She didn’t have the height to wrap her arms around his neck and was left grappling for a solid grip. All the while, she begged her childhood friend to stop. Pain exploded across her jaw, gathering behind her eyes and pulsating until she was sure they were about to burst like grapes. It was only when she hit her snow-covered yard that she realized he had hit her.
Blinking past the tears that lined her eyes, she watched, frozen in horror and disbelief as Zack shoved Benton toward the passenger door of the parked car. He only needed one hand to manipulate Benton’s far smaller weight. It was the Banshee’s wild ferocity that made him struggle to keep his grip. In rapid succession, Benton stomped his foot against Zack’s stomach, his kidneys, his knees. Blood trickled from Zack’s nose after Benton drove his fist against it. None of it was enough to bring life to Zack’s dull, unblinking stare. He didn’t even look at Benton as he tossed the smaller boy into the car.
“Zack!”
Both of Nicole’s parents had made their daughter’s safety a priority. They had taught her everything they knew, and that knowledge had carried Nicole with silent confidence. Now it all meant nothing. She knew where to strike. Knew exactly what she had to do to take down someone Zack’s size. But the idea of doing any of it to Zack brought a foul taste in her mouth. Instead, she grabbed his arm, intending to drag him off of his feet, only to find his body as rigid as stone. Snap him out of it. How do I snap him out of it? Think!
Zack shook her off like she was a bug. But the moment of distraction had been enough. Benton had rolled up, not leaping from the truck bed but grabbing Zack’s outstretched wrist. He yanked hard, toppling Zack forward as his other hand slammed the door shut. A scream ripped out of Zack’s throat as the heavy door crunched down on his fingers. Benton smacked the lock down before the taller teen could reach for the handle. Life and pain filled Zack’s wide eyes. He scraped at the doorjamb, clawed his fingers around the window, rattled the handle as if it had only just occurred to him. The truck rocked with his efforts, but he couldn’t work his way free.
“Zack?” Nicole asked meekly.
His long hair swirled around him like a dark halo as he whipped around to face her.
“Nicole? What’s going on?” His questions ended with an agonized gasp. Clenching his teeth, he tried not to sob. “My hand. Open the door. Open the door.”
By this point, Benton had crawled over the driver’s seat and, with one foot on the rim, was flipping Zack off over the hood of the truck. The bitter rage in his eyes screamed all
the words he couldn’t get out through his dry coughing fits.
“My hand!” Zack snarled, his fingertips squeaking against the window glass. “Just open it.”
“Are you back?” Nicole asked.
“Back from what?”
She took a step forward but stopped herself just outside of his reach. “Is it really you?”
“What the hell are you talking about? Come on, Nicole. It hurts! Get the door!”
Nicole shifted her gaze to Benton. “Could you open it, please?”
His next set of choked wheezes sounded suspiciously close to a string of curse words.
“He obviously wasn’t in control of himself,” she insisted. “I think the pain snapped him out of it.”
Benton held his ground until Nicole started forward, determined to do it herself. Then he waved her off and climbed back into the cab. While Benton took his time with the lock, Nicole tried to keep her old friend as calm as possible. Zack hissed through the pain, squeezing his eyes shut before forcing them open again. His brow furrowed as he stared down at her.
“Your lip,” he said softly.
Nicole touched the tip of her tongue to the aching side of her mouth and flinched at the sudden copper taste.
“It’s nothing. Let’s just get you out.”
The lock flicked open and she yanked the door instantly, trying to be fast and careful at the same time. Zack instantly reached inside. He dragged Benton out by the front of his shirt. Before he could fling the smaller teen onto the ground, Benton had coiled up like a snake, wrapping himself around Zack’s arm and bracing his heels behind the taller teen’s neck. Unable to shake off his weight, they both toppled. Snow exploded up against them as they landed hard. Refusing the release his grip, Benton pushed his hips up, trapping Zack in an armbar that threatened to snap his elbow. At the same time, Zack thumped Benton’s back like a drum. Hard thuds that brought whimpers from the smaller boy’s throat.
“Both of you, stop it right now!” Nicole snapped.
“I’m going to rip your throat out,” Zack screamed.
Unable to get any words through his battered throat, Benton let a push of his hips respond. Zack clawed at Benton’s spine, trying and failing to dislodge him, pain twisting up his face.
“Stop!” Nicole demanded.
“He hit you!” Zack’s bellow grew stronger as Benton twisted to stare at him in surprise.
“You did this,” Nicole said, pointing at her lip. “And you attacked Benton.”
“Huh?”
Benton and Zack exchanged a confused glance before resuming their grappling, hissing out death threats and generally doing what they could to hurt the other. Tired, scared, and now nursing a quickly swelling lip, Nicole reached her limit when she saw her elderly neighbor poke her head outside.
“Mrs. Horn,” she called out awkwardly between hissing at the boys to stop.
“Do you need me to call the cops.”
Nicole jogged across the yard, smiling as sweetly as she could while she collected the hose mounted on the side of her house.
“No, I have everything under control.”
“I will kill you!” Zack roared.
She closed her eyes as Benton howled a response. It included enough profanity to leave the retired chef, who had taught Nicole every swear word she knew, looking mortified.
“I’m going to call the cops.”
“Oh, don’t bother mom at work,” Nicole assured. She turned the tap until water gushed from the end. “I’ve got this.”
Striding back to the still struggling boys, she didn’t hesitate to drench them both. Their yells turned into sharp, shrill screams. Snow melted under them. Hard tremors wracked their thrashing bodies as they lurched away from each other and searched for someplace safe from the onslaught.
“Nicole! Are you trying to give us hypothermia?”
“Do not use that tone with me, Zackary,” Nicole snapped.
Directing the flow at the ground, she waited until both boys were staring at her, their teeth chattering too hard to yell at her.
“Are you going to listen to me now?”
Benton and Zack exchanged another look, but all the fight was out of them.
“Good. Now, get inside the house right this second. You’re disturbing the neighbors.”
She let them stagger in on their own as she replaced the hose.
“See?” She forced a smile for Mrs. Horn. “Everything’s fine.”
The gray-haired woman inched closer to their dividing fence, motioning with her head for Nicole to do the same.
“Is this about the Bertrand boy?” Mrs. Horn whispered. “Everyone knows he’s a little off.”
Nicole tightened her jaw, locking her smile in place while her protective instincts reared up inside her.
“He’s a city boy. What do you expect?”
With a curt goodbye, she turned on her heel and hurried inside. Benton had left a trail of soggy clothes heading up the staircase. He jumped over the items on his way back down, now dressed in sweat pants and a shirt, an array of Logan’s clothes bundled into his arms. She’d seen Benton’s hair wet a few times now, but it still caught her by surprise. At first, it had been the surprising length. His carefully arranged fluffy spikes were oddly deceptive. Lately, though, it had been the color. Ever since the powwow, his light blonde hair had shone like liquid mercury when wet. He didn’t see it.
Benton scrunched up his mouth and wiggled his arm, drawing her attention to the clothes he carried. Logan’s larger size would hang loose on Zack but fit a lot better than Benton’s ever could. It was his version of an apology, and it left her a little sheepish.
“Sorry I hit you with a hose. Are you alright? Can you breathe okay?”
“Yeah.” It hurt just to hear the grating croak that served as his voice.
Benton winched, gripping the railing with one hand.
“Go sit by the fire. I’ll take care of Zack’s hand and bring in some hot drinks, okay?”
Careful not to startle him with any sudden movements, she pulled the clothes from his arm. The moment his arm was free, he brushed the pad of his thumb along her jaw, his brow furrowing in question.
“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt.”
He frowned, lingering until she gently pulled his hand away. His skin was like ice.
“Really. I’m fine. Now go warm up. We’ll be right in.”
Reluctantly, he shuffled off, tenderly rubbing his throat with one hand. Guilt twisted up her insides as she watched him go. It had all happened so fast. But now that there was time to replay it in her mind, she could pick apart a thousand things she could have done differently. The variety of ways that she could have kept both of her friends safe.
There isn’t time for this, she told herself sharply. Make sure they’re safe now. With the idea implanted within her head, she hurried to the door, checking and rechecking that each lock was in place. The events played out in her mind’s eye again, bringing with it a tendril of cold fear. She hadn’t locked the door behind her when she had run out to stop them. In all the chaos, no one would have noticed anyone slipping inside. The idea that she had locked the monster inside with them bore into her mind. She couldn’t let it go.
Taking the stairs two at a time, she started her search at the far end of the house. Quick but efficient, she checked under the beds and rifled through the wardrobes. Finding nothing out of the ordinary only fed her paranoia. Possibilities crammed her mind; images of the monster transforming to the size of a mouse and hiding itself away. She raked through drawers and scanned the bathroom cabinets, crawl spaces, and storage boxes in the attic. Frantic now, she bolted downstairs. Kitchen pantry, her mother’s office, the fine china cabinets. The boys gave her a strange look as she ran through the living room again to rush down the basement stairs. She squeezed around the worn plastic containers filled with holiday decorations, sporting supplies, gardening tools, and memorabilia. Nothing. The washing machine. It seemed so certain until she was on he
r knees and staring into the empty barrel.
“Nicole?” Zack called from the living room.
She pushed back onto her knees. Suddenly, it was hard to breathe. A hot lump had formed in her throat, and she had to swallow a few times to sound anywhere near normal.
“Yeah.”
“Is everything alright?”
Her hands trembled as she pushed her hip-length hair back from her face. “Yeah. Everything’s fine. I’ll be right in to help.” Squeezing her eyes shut, she took a sobering breath and continued in a much cheerier tone. “I just had to check this one thing real quick first.”
“Take your time,” Zack replied, sounding awkward and worried.
Not wanting to cause either of them concern, she sat on the cold floor, trying to gather her senses. That had been too close. She held her breath, hoping it would dissolve the lump choking her, clenching her jaw until it ached. As much as she fought against it, the thought bubbled up from the darkest recesses of her mind. Could I have killed Zack to save Benton? Or would I have let Benton go to save Zack? Neither option was something she could live with.
“It’s okay,” she whispered to herself. “It’s all okay now. I can figure out what this thing is. I can.”
The assurances lost a little more meaning with every repetition. She was suddenly very aware that the feet of her pajamas were completely soaked through, allowing an icy chill to seep into her. Just do what you have to do, she told herself sharply. A second later, she burst into movement. She forced herself up onto her feet, found something in the hamper to wear, changed, and stalked out into the kitchen, only to find the first aid box missing from the pantry.
In her confused silence, she heard Zack’s voice wafting in from the living room.
“Damn. I did that to you? God, I can’t remember any of it. Are you sure it was me?”
Nicole had moved to the kitchen door without consciously meaning to. One hand held the doorframe as she watched her friends. They both sat by the fireplace, each looking less than their best, the first aid kit spread out between them. Benton had been in the process of applying antibacterial cream to Zack’s torn knuckles, but the motion was paused as he stared at the taller boy. Zack had been using his good hand to probe lightly at the new bruises blossoming around Benton’s neck. The others had just started to fade.
