David nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Look, I can come back on the weekend. My parents won’t care. I could stay with Jamie and Brian.”
I nodded. “Okay.”
There was an awkward tension – a pause that made me shiver. Finally, not knowing what else to do, I lifted my fingers in a childish wave and climbed out of the car. David didn’t even stay to watch me go inside; he peeled out of the driveway, spraying gravel everywhere.
My mom was standing at the stove. “I was worried about you,” she chastised. “I don’t want you out alone. Not with all this going on.”
“I wasn’t alone. I was with…Andrea. Remember?”
Mom nodded. “Look, honey, I know you think you should be doing more. But there really isn’t anything to be done. The police are on Monica’s case, and they’re looking for her as hard as they can.”
I bit my lip. Mom was looking at me, staring at my bloodshot eyes.
“I just feel like no one even cares,” I said, flopping down in exasperation. “There hasn’t been a search party. Her parents probably haven’t even called the cops themselves!”
Mom sighed. “I know, sweetie.” She cleared her throat. “Sometimes we just have to let people do what they want. It’s not your responsibility to make the Boers be better parents.”
I clenched my jaw. “I’m going upstairs,” I muttered. “I’ll be down later.”
Once I was safely behind the locked door of my room, I grabbed my phone from the charger and called Steven. Normally, I would have been anxious at the thought of calling the D’Amicos. But right now, I was too worried about Monica.
“Hey, Elizabeth?”
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “I skipped school today. To look for her, with David.”
“And?”
I sighed.
“Have you eaten yet?”
“No,” I said softly. “Why?”
“I’m picking you up in twenty,” Steven said. “We’re going to the diner.”
When Steven and I hung up, I changed into a pair of black jeans and a sweater. Racing downstairs, I checked my hair in the hallway mirror before walking into the kitchen.
“You’re looking better,” Mom said. She cocked her head to the side. “Everything okay?”
I nodded, trying not to blush. “Yes,” I said. “Um, Steven wants to take me out to dinner. Is that okay?”
Mom raised her eyebrows. “Is this a date, Elizabeth?”
“I don’t think so.” I twisted my hands together behind my back. “I mean, I don’t know. I think he just wants to talk about Monica.”
Mom nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said. “Just be home before ten, okay?”
I nodded. Just as I was grabbing a jacket from the hall closet, I heard the rumbling of an engine outside.
“Steven’s here,” I called. “Gotta go! See you later, Mom.”
Before she could reply, I darted outside and ran over to Steven’s car. He gave me a lopsided grin when he saw me, and my stomach lurched to the side in a mix of excitement and anxiety.
“You didn’t have to run out,” Steven said. “I was about to knock on the door.”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Steven drove in silence. When we got to the diner, another pang of sadness hit me.
“It feels so weird to be here without Monica,” I said as Steven held the door for me. “We used to come every day freshman year.”
Steven nodded. “Yeah, I saw you.”
I raised my eyebrow, and Steven blushed.
“I mean, I wasn’t spying or anything,” he said quickly. “Andrea told me, I guess.”
I nodded. “Yeah, it was when they were still friends.”
There was an awkward silence as we picked up the grease-spattered menus and began to browse. Although the diner was never particularly busy, it always had the same dingy look – floors streaked with dirt, tables covered with crumbs. It hadn’t ever bothered me, but now that I was here with Steven, everything looked even worse than it had before. ‘Is this a date?’ I wondered as I flipped through the menu. ‘And if it is, why didn’t we go someplace else?’
After we ordered, Steven looked into my eyes. “So, how was today?”
I shrugged. “We didn’t find anything,” I said listlessly. “And being with David was weird.” Instantly, I felt guilty for saying that.
Steven chuckled. “Yeah. He’s an odd dude.”
“I just wish we would have…I dunno. Seen something. Anything,” I stressed. “Like, anything to give me another idea where to look.”
Steven shrugged. “Probably better left to the cops.”
I frowned. “I guess.”
“We had this shitty assembly today,” Steven said. He snickered. “They brought in these bodybuilder guys who ripped phone books apart with their hands. Then they told us it was because they’d dedicated their lives to Jesus. Andrea flipped. It was fucking nuts.”
“Monica would have hated that,” I said. “Hey, I never thought of this before, but maybe I should call some of her other family. She has that cousin, right? The one that lives in Massachusetts?”
“It was such a weird day.” Steven raked a hand through his blond hair.
“I thought you brought me here to talk about Monica?”
Steven sighed. “I dunno, Elizabeth. I thought you needed a break that was why I suggested it.”
“So, you don’t really care,” I said hotly. I knew I was going down a dangerous path, but I couldn’t help it. Suddenly, I was incredibly angry that no one else was taking this seriously.
“Of course, I care!” Steven looked offended. “I care a lot, you know? These adults – they’re not doing shit!”
I sighed. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m just frustrated.”
“I get that,” Steven said. “Everything will be okay. Just try to chill out, okay?”
Steven launched into a story about something that had happened in AP English, and as much as I wanted to listen, my resentment was growing. I couldn’t believe that he didn’t even care about Monica. ‘My best friend is dead, and no one cares but me,’ I thought angrily. ‘Am I going crazy? Did I imagine this whole thing?’
After we ate – a tuna melt for me, and a club sandwich for Steven – Steven paid the bill, and we climbed into his car.
“Hey, I’m going over to John’s,” Steven said.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah, I need to stop by the house and grab something. I borrowed a movie from him last week,” Steven said. “You don’t mind, do you? I’ll take you home right after.”
I frowned. “Sure,” I said. “No problem.” I turned my face to the window so he wouldn’t catch my disappointment. I’d been hoping that he would ask me to come.
Steven pulled into his driveway. “Hey, come in for a minute,” he said. “You’ll get cold if you stay in the car.”
I nodded before following him inside. The foyer of the D’Amicos house was a rush of activity. Andrea was scurrying around with a hairbrush in one hand and her jacket clutched in the other. Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico were arguing loudly. Steven darted upstairs, throwing me an apologetic glance over his shoulder as he did so.
“Hi, Elizabeth,” Andrea said primly. She smiled. “How are you feeling today? I noticed you weren’t at school.” She held out her bag, and I saw that it was a bible case with handles and a gold-stitched crucifix on one side.
“Um, yeah,” I said. “I was sick.”
Andrea leapt away like I’d just told her that I had the plague. “Don’t come too close,” she said. “I have such a low immune system.”
I nodded. “Right.” Now that Monica was gone, being around Andrea was harder than ever. She looked one second away from bursting into tears. I wondered if she was feeling guilty.
“So, you and Steven were out with friends?”
I shook my head. “Uh, no. We just went to the diner, that’s all.”
“Alone?” Andrea raised an eyebrow.
“Yeah.” I nodded.
“He told me he wanted to cheer me up. You know…because of Monica.”
Andrea frowned. A deep crease appeared in the pale skin of her forehead. “I don’t think Mom wants Steven to have a girlfriend right now. She’s worried he won’t get into a good school.”
“I’m not Steven’s girlfriend,” I said, shaking my head.
Andrea stared at me. “I’m going to church,” she said. “You want to come? My youth group always wants new people. We welcome everyone.”
Something about the way Andrea was staring at me was giving me goosebumps.
“I have homework,” I lied. “Maybe next time.”
Andrea nodded firmly. “It would be good of you to come,” she said. “I noticed you and your family stopped coming to church years ago.”
“My mom is just so busy now,” I said. “We don’t really have time.”
“Everyone should make time for God.”
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, praying for Steven to come rescue me. Just as Andrea launched into the virtues of regular church attendance, Steven’s footsteps thundered down the steps. He jumped the last three, landing in the foyer with a loud, boyish thud.
“Hey, I’m ready,” Steven said. He jerked his head toward the door. “You wanna go?”
“Steven, can you give me a ride to church?” Andrea batted her eyelashes at her brother. “Mom’s going to be late again.”
“Uh, sure. Come on.”
I tried not to show my disappointment. Andrea skipped outside ahead of me and darted into the passenger seat of Steven’s car. He and I followed.
“Sorry,” Steven muttered. “Mom would shit if I said no. That’s the whole reason they bought me a car.”
I nodded. “No worries. It’s fine.”
Andrea chattered incessantly about her church group the whole way into town. Steven and I nodded, but I noticed he wasn’t saying much. It was interesting to see how much he’d changed. Until last year, Steven had been almost as religious as his younger sister. But he seemed different now, almost like he’d changed completely.
“Elizabeth’s house is before the church,” Andrea said crossly. “Why aren’t you dropping her off first?”
“Sorry,” Steven said absentmindedly. He pulled into the gravel lot of Jaffrey United Methodist. “I must’ve forgotten.”
Andrea gave me a sour look. She smiled at Steven. Just as she was about to climb out of the car, she ducked her head back in and kissed Steven, full on the lips.
Chapter Nine
Monica
With a groan, I opened my eyes. I expected to see Henrik or his coven dancing around me and moaning. Instead, I was shocked to discover that I was in my parents’ backyard, covered in dirt.
The athame was sitting in my lap. The blade gleamed, reflecting my own face in the shiny surface.
I shivered. ‘Did I just have a bad dream,’ I wondered as I climbed to my feet and brushed my hands off on my thighs. ‘What the hell happened?’
The sky was tinged pink and orange with the setting of the sun, and the air was brisk and chilly. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my torso, hugging myself for warmth. After a few seconds, I grabbed the athame and held it at my side, clutching the handle with a white-knuckled grip.
Inside, Jamie and Brian were sitting at the dinner table, full glasses of wine in front of them.
Jamie looked up at me and smiled. “There you are,” she said. “I was actually starting to worry.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Hey.” I cleared my throat. “Could I have something to eat?”
“Your father made mushroom risotto; it’s in the kitchen.” Jamie yawned. “You must be tired.”
I nodded. “Exhausted.”
“Hey, sweetheart,” Brian said. He barely glanced up from the papers. “Have fun with David?”
“I wasn’t with David.” I held the knife behind my back and made my way across the room, keeping it out of sight.
“Oh.” Brian turned a page, narrowing his eyes at a headline. “Where did you go?”
I shrugged. “I was around.”
“I knew you’d be fine,” Jamie said absentmindedly. She yawned, rubbing at her eyes with both fists. “You missed a week of school, though. Should probably phone your teachers and ask for assignments.”
My eyes widened. “I was gone for a week?”
Jamie nodded. She and Brian exchanged a knowing glance. “And just how much acid did you decide to drop?” Jamie giggled. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to tell me. Just be safe, okay? Try not to have a bad trip. They’re a real pain in the ass.”
“Um, yeah,” I said. “I’m going to take a shower, okay?”
Jamie and Brian nodded in unison. I bolted upstairs, clutching the athame to my chest.
My room looked almost exactly the same as it had when I’d left. My bed was mussed, and my closet was undisturbed. It felt so surreal – and yet, so amazing – to be home that I was starting to feel overwhelmed. Each passing second only created more questions in my brain. ‘Was I really gone for a week? What happened? Why can’t I remember more from the time I was gone? Was I actually gone, or was I just hallucinating in the woods?’
It was very strange. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could remember the exact feeling of Henrik grabbing my shoulder. I could remember the heat of the flames and even the herbal smell of the smoke that had surrounded the coven.
But I could barely remember what had actually happened.
I shuddered. ‘It was probably some kind of hallucinatory thing,’ I realized as I stripped down and pulled on my bathrobe. ‘Like, maybe some of that stuff at the party was spiked with LSD. I bet Steven’s asshole jock friends would do that as a joke.’
An idea struck me. I walked over to my desk and grabbed a pen and a notepad. In a trembling hand, I wrote Henrik’s name. But when I tried to remember what he looked like, the image faded from my mind. I clenched my jaw in frustration and tried to think. Was he old? Young? Foreign? With a name like Henrik, probably so – but I couldn’t remember him having any kind of an accent. I couldn’t remember what he’d worn. I couldn’t remember how his voice had sounded.
In fact, the only memory that was really sticking with me was the feeling, the sensation, of being trapped and captured. I shuddered. Once, I’d read a news clipping about a serial killer who abducted women and drugged them heavily so they wouldn’t remember undergoing torture. Most of the time, the drugs killed them. But in a few cases, they survived with no memories of what had happened.
Fear swelled in my chest. I decided to take a hot shower -- that had sometimes helped me calm down in the past, so it was at least worth a try.
I locked myself in the bathroom and sat down on the toilet as I waited for the water heater to warm up. Soon, clouds of white steam filled the bathroom. I inhaled as deeply as I could. It felt purifying, cleansing. ‘This was all a dream,’ I told myself firmly as I shed my robe and climbed into the shower. ‘I made everything up in my head.’
The hot water soaked my hair and body. I closed my eyes and held my head under the warm spray for as long as I could until my lungs were burning for air.
Whenever the water touched the inside of my right forearm, it burned. Glancing down, I saw that my arm was covered in crude tattoos. They were still bleeding. The skin was red and angry, and I gasped in horror when I recognized the symbols.
They were the exact same symbols that had been carved into the handle of the athame.
I muffled my screams with both hands, sobbing and crying blindly until I could no longer breathe in the steam-filled bathroom. My hands shook as I turned off the water and fumbled for my towel and then my robe.
It was dumb, but part of me thought I’d just made the symbols up in my head. When I was locked in the safety of my room, I studied my arm. They were definitely real. I could see where the edge of each tattoo was raw and beginning to scab over. But I didn’t remember getting them, and I had no idea what they meant. I stared down at the symbols for so long t
hat they started to move and sway in the dim light of my desk lamp.
I took a deep breath. I knew that I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts anymore. I had to do something to distract myself. I pulled on clean clothes and then went downstairs.
“Hey, sweetie,” Brian said. “Feeling better?”
I nodded stiffly.
“I bet you’re tired,” Jamie said. She winked at Brian. “You know, when I met your father, I don’t think we slept for a week.”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m tired,” I said.
“You better make sure that David uses protection,” Jamie said. “You are being smart about this, aren’t you, honey?”
I nodded again. “I’m going to heat up some of that risotto. You want anything?”
Jamie shook her head. “Brian’s going to make spaghetti for dinner, if you feel like waiting.”
“Okay.” My stomach rumbled. Suddenly, the faint, irony taste of rare meat came into my mouth, and I swallowed, realizing how hungry I really was.
Jamie was sitting in the living room, half-watching a design show on the portable TV that she and Brian had had since college. Living with aging hippies hadn’t ever really bothered me, but I did have to admit that I was jealous of the flat screen that Elizabeth had in her room.
‘Elizabeth! I need to call her!’ Instinctively, I reached into my pocket for my phone. My fingers just touched empty denim, and I realized that I hadn’t seen my phone in my room, either.
“Hey, have you seen my phone anywhere?”
Jamie glanced up from the television. “What?”
“My phone,” I repeated. “I think I left it around here somewhere. Have you seen it?”
Jamie chuckled. “Ah, young love,” she said. “If I had a dime for everything I misplaced when I first started seeing your father…”
I frowned, but didn’t want to argue. I couldn’t deny that I was hurt by my parents not caring more. What if something bad had happened? What if I’d been killed or kidnapped or something?
“Did you worry when I was gone?”
“What? No,” Jamie said. She frowned. “Why would I worry? Your father and I know you’re a smart, capable girl.”
“I’m fifteen,” I said flatly. “I’ve never run off before.”
The Uprising (Moonlight Wolves Book 3) Page 26
