Paranormal After Dark

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “And what if they don’t?” Casper’s hands balled into fists. “What if that doesn’t convince them? What if they pull some other prophecy out of their asses? They could keep Cresta here forever.”

  “I won’t let that happen,” Owen answered.

  “Oh yeah, cause you’re so trustworthy.”

  “Cass, I do!” I answered. “I trust him.”

  “Why Cresta?” His face scrunched, as though my words had hurt him. “Look, I know you’ve got the hots for him or whatever, but he’s just like the rest of them. All he’s ever done is lie to us.”

  “That wasn’t his fault,” I shook my head. “I mean-Yeah, it was his fault, but he thought he was doing it for my own good.”

  Casper gritted his teeth. “And what happens when he thinks killing you is for your own good?”

  “You son of a bitch!” Owen rushed toward him. I jumped between them. I was trying to sneak away without being seen. The last thing I needed was a brawl in the world’s weirdest aquarium. “You don’t know anything about me,” Owen yelled. “You don’t know my life!”

  “You don’t have a life,” Casper sniped. “You people live in a holding cell. You let other people tell you what to do so you don’t have to make your own decisions. You lie to people and tell yourselves that you’re heroes. You blame people for things you say they’re going to do. What about all the crap that you people do? You make me sick.”

  This was a total one eighty from the Casper I had left when they locked me in that room. Gone was the freewheeling, fun loving guy who thought this whole thing was an adventure. He wanted us gone, and he wanted us gone now. But he had forgotten about one thing.

  “Casper, I’m a Breaker too.”

  “You are not,” he said, his voice calming. “You’re you. You’re Cresta, and you’re amazing. Don’t you see Cress? They don’t care about us. They look at us and see a Neanderthal and a Bloodmoon; the monkey and the antichrist. That’s all we’re ever gonna be to them.”

  “That’s not true,” Owen’s voice had softened to. “I care about her. I care about you too. Believe it or not, you guys were my friends, probably the only real friends I’ve ever had. I know I lied to you guys, and I know that I’m responsible for what happened back in Crestview, but I wanna make it right.”

  “Forgive me if I decide not to believe a damn word that comes out of your mouth,” Casper said.

  I sighed. We didn’t have time for this. I turned to him, and put on my best ‘this means business’ face. “Casper, this is happening. Whether you like it or not, I am going to save my mother.”

  “He doesn’t have your mother,” Casper repeated.

  “He said there was a way to prove it,” I remembered. “He said that if I lit a candle-“

  “Of course!” Owen clapped his hands together. “The quickest way for Breakers to communicate is through flame. Why didn’t I think of that? If we can get the right kind of candle and something of your mom’s to focus our search, we should be able to feel her, might even be able to see her.”

  The idea of seeing my mom again filled with dueling emotions. I desperately wanted her to be alive and would have given anything to be able to look into her eyes again, but if she was alive, it meant she was being tortured by Allister Leeman, and I wasn’t sure I could deal with the sight of that.

  I shook my head. “Can you do it?” I asked. That was the only thing that mattered.

  “No,” he answered, and rubbed at the band that bound his powers. “Not like this.”

  “What about me,” desperation colored my voice. “Can I do it?”

  “You have to be trained Cresta. It’s a delicate process. It takes years for a Breaker to learn it.”

  That was it then. I would have to fly blind; go after my mom, proof or not.

  “But there is someone who could,” Owen answered. “There’s one other person I trust enough to do it.”

  “What?” I asked, but my eyes narrowed when I realized who he was talking about.

  No. Not her. Anybody but her.

  Chapter 16

  In Plain Sight

  TEN MINUTES LATER, Casper and I were hiding in the janitorial closet. It was about ten feet wide and barely had room for the mops, rakes, and buckets that had been stuffed into it, let alone the two of us. Owen had drawn ovals on the inside of the door in red marker; anchors that he said should hide us from anybody that might come in looking for cleaning supplies.

  When Owen came back, Merrin behind him, I grimaced. Of all the people I didn’t want to know about this, Merrin was definitely at the top of that list. But Casper was right. There was a very good chance Allister Leeman didn’t have my mother and, if that was the case and he was just trying to get me out into the open, the whole candle thing could really shed some light on it. No pun intended. But with Owen effectively neutered and me being a Breaker newbie, we’d have to outsource. Too bad the only person Owen trusted enough for the job was his seemingly perfect and certainly beautiful (ex?) fiancé.

  I could tell from the look on Merrin’s infuriatingly perfect symmetrical that Owen had already filled her in on what was going on. Her eyes were tightened in a way that told me she thought I was a king sized nuisance. Though they were also a touch softer than I remembered, so maybe she understood at least a little of why I was doing this.

  “I have no idea why we’re doing this,” she sighed.

  There goes that theory.

  She glared at me, then at Owen. “You realize the position this puts me in with the Masons. They trusted me Owen, and when we get found out-“

  “We won’t get found out,” Owen turned, revealing a blue backpack slung over one shoulder. He unzipped it and placed its contents on the floor in front of us; a stumpy red candle, a box of matches, and a rounded hand mirror. The room filled with the smell of apples and cinnamon.

  “Is that Glade?” I asked, pointing to the candle.

  “Short notice,” he explained.

  “Of course we’re going to get found out,” Merrin said, rolling her eyes at me. “Do you think they’re going to notice we’re gone and just assume we went out for a picnic?”

  We? I didn’t like the sound of that.

  “She’s coming?” I asked, looking at Owen.

  “She can speak for herself,” Merrin answered with enough venom in her voice to poison a horse. “And yes. I’ve lost Owen once already. I’m not doing it again. Unless, of course, you’d rather I stay put and, when Echo and Dahlia start asking questions, I can point them in your direction.”

  “That’s enough,” Owen said, striking a match and lighting the candle’s wick. “We don’t know what we’re going to be dealing with out there, Cresta. Having a Breaker who isn’t and knows what she’s doing can only help us.”

  “Unless she rats us out anyway,” Casper said, his arms folded, his voice flippant.

  “Oh good, a Neanderthal; what every good suicide mission needs,” Merrin spat.

  “Stop it!” Owen said, standing to meet her. “These are my friends, both of them. If you want to be part of this, you have to respect that.”

  “Whatever you say, sweetheart,” she said, and ran her fingers lightly across his cheek. He flinched, but just a little.

  “Just deal with the candle, okay,” he blinked.

  “I need a token” she said, crouching cross legged in front of the lit candle. “A picture, a personal item; just something to tie me into Ash, hope me focus on who I’m looking for. Normally a relative would do the trick, but since there isn’t actually any blood ties between you and your mother-“

  “I have something,” I cut her off. I did not need to hear the rest of that sentence. I reached into my pocket and pulled out the old photo of Echo and my mom; the first proof I ever got that what Echo was saying was the truth. With a bit of hesitance, I handed it over to her. Merrin held it over the candle, letting the flame lick up it. As the fire consumed the picture, my heart stung. It didn’t make much sense. Before a couple of weeks ago, I had
never seen that picture. But it was the only one I had of my mother, maybe the only one I would ever have. If this didn’t work out, if I never got to see my mother again, that picture would have been the only piece of her I’d have left. I didn’t even have her features. That picture would have been the only thing that reminded me of what she looked like, that kept her face fresh in my mind.

  And now it was gone.

  Mourn the flicker.

  The burning picture produced a cloud of smoke. That smoke gathered in the air and rushed down to the hand mirror below, rendering it white and clouded.

  A long second passed, and then another.

  “The candle makes the connection. If your mother was alive, we would be able to see her in the mirror. I’m sorry,” Merrin said and, for a second, actually sounded as though she was sorry.

  “Maybe you didn’t do it right,” I said, as she stood and flattened her pants with the palms of her hands.

  “I’m quite capable. I assure you. There’s nothing in the mirror. That means-“

  Look!” Casper shouted.

  The white sheen on the mirror had transformed. It looked like a room now, but not the one we were in. Dark like this one, but where the janitorial closet was brown and filled with cleaning supplies, the room of the mirror was metal and completely empty aside from one glaring exception; my mother. She was sitting on the floor. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her face was cut and bruised. Her hair was missing in chunks, and what was left of it stuck out in disheveled waves. Her eyes were rimmed in red, as thought she had been crying, but more than that, they looked tired. In fact, her whole body looked limp with exhaustion, as though somebody had put the long end of a vacuum inside of her and sucked everything out.

  A murmur, horrified and pathetic, escaped my lips. There had been a piece of me who thought I should be angry with my mother. She lied to me my entire life. She drugged me to keep the truth of who I was a secret. She, in fact, wasn’t even my mother, not biologically. But looking at her now, watching the way her empty eyes fixated forward, none of that mattered. Everything in me wanted to reach through that mirror and pull her back here, back to me, back to safety. That wasn’t possible though, and I had never felt more impotent in my entire life.

  A man came walking into view, blocking my mother for a split second and then moving to kneel beside her. Barely older looking than us, he had dark wavy hair. His skin was bronze and his eyes were black. He was-Well, he was cute, actually. A black tattoo stretched across the soft skin of his neck. Unlike Owen’s, I could actually make his out. It was a raven in midflight, wings spread wide.

  Allister Leeman.

  “She’ll come for you,” he hissed at my mother in the same horrid playful tone he had used with me on the phone. “In fact, she’s probably on her way right now.”

  “Die in a fire,” Mom said weakly, and then she spit at him. He wiped the spit off of his face with a handkerchief he pulled from his jacket pocket and smiled.

  “Interesting words for someone who’s survived not one, but two, explosions in her wasted lifetime.” He leaned in closer; so close that, as he spoke, his breath must have hit her in the face. “You gave your whole life to this girl. You walked away from your family, your future, everything you ever had, would have, or could have. And you did it all to keep her safe, to stop her from becoming what nature created her to be. Well she’s coming for you Ash. Or would you prefer Julie? After all, a good son in law abides his mother in law’s preferences. How does it feel to know that all of your hard work is for nothing; that, in the end, you’re the reason she’ll become the Bloodmoon? She’s coming for you, and I’m going to make sure that our girl is every bit as fabulous as fate intended her to be.”

  He whipped over, looking straight ahead, as though he could see us through the mirror. “Do you hear that, Cresta? Are you watching us now? I’m going to make it all right. I’m going to make it all better.”

  He looked over at my mother as a fiendish grin crept across his face. He knew he had me; that, no matter what he said or what threats he made, he still had my hands tied. He had my mother. He could lay his plans out on the table. He knew I would come anyway.

  He grabbed her hand and kissed it, sending a shudder up both my and my mother’s bodies. “Come and get her, baby. We’ll be waiting.”

  With that, the fog lifted and the mirror returned to normal.

  “Cresta, I’m sorry,” Owen said, his voice low.

  “Don’t be,” I said, clearing my throat. “She’s alive. That’s all that matters. When do we leave?”

  “I suppose it would be utter insanity for me to suggest we actually bring this up with a few of our superiors before we go marching of into what Allister Leeman already confirmed was a trap,” Merrin sighed, blowing out the candle and gathering the supplies.

  “They wouldn’t let me go if I told them what was going on,” I answered. “And Allister Leeman already told me that if he caught a whiff of any of them in the area, he’d kill her. I can’t take that chance. Besides, he’s not going to hurt me. He thinks we’ve got some sort of sicko destiny.”

  “I was more concerned about the safety of those of us who aren’t protected by a blanket doomsday prophecy,” Merrin said.

  “This is what’s happening. You’re either in or you’re out,” I said, brushing past her toward the door.

  “You’re the hottest girl I’ve ever hated,” Casper told her, following me.

  “Nice friends,” she scoffed at Owen, but tossed the supplies in the backpack and followed us anyway.

  “I think so,” Owen grinned as he left the supply closet and closed the door behind him.

  We had to travel through three rooms and down two flights of stairs to get to the holding garage. Owen said we needed a car if we were going to get out of here and, even though back in Crestview, I had never seen him take so much as a stick of gum without asking, he said he was going to steal one. Luckily, there was some sort of student body activity outside (perfect timing, as always, from the Girl in the Tower) and the place was pretty much deserted. We only had to bypass a couple of housekeepers, an errant professor, and a cook who I was sure was stealing an entire chicken and bringing it back to his room. Before I knew it, we were at the stairs, and then, the holding garage. The garage was underground, and must have run the entire length of Weathersby. Rows of cars lined as far as the eye could see. Vans, sport cars, pickup trucks , even motorcycles filled the huge space. There were vehicles of every kind, of every size and shape. But not of every color. In fact, all the vehicles, and there were thousands of them, were either white or black.

  “What’s with the chess board motif?” Casper asked, seemingly reading my mind.

  “White and black are more the absence of colors than actual colors themselves. They’re easier to shade,” Owen explained, and walked into the sea of automobiles.

  “What about this one?” I asked, pointing to the first car I saw; a black minivan.

  “Are we picking up the Brady Bunch along the way,” Casper joked. “What about something with a little more style? You guys are supposed to be spies, right? Where’s the James Bond collection?”

  “Ugh,” I loathe you,” Merrin shook her head disgustedly.

  “Love you too, hot stuff,” he winked back.

  “We don’t have time for this,” I said. “Whatever crap is keeping the entire student body busy will be over soon, and we need to be six different kinds of gone by then. So, I don’t care what kind of car we pick. I just want it picked.”

  “What about that one?” Casper pointed to a sleek black jewel of a sports car in the distance. It had white racing stripes and was the sort of thing you’d expect Vin Diesel to pop out of instants after it skidded to a stop in front of you.

  “That’s a Maserati,” Owen answered. “I think it’s also Echo’s personal ride.”

  “Well, “Casper smiled. “If we’re gonna do something wrong, we might as well do it the right way.”

  Minut
es later, we were crammed into Owen’s sports car. Owen was in the driver’s seat with me beside him. Which left Casper and Merrin to share the cramped backseat; something I was sure neither of them was fond of. I didn’t see Owen pulled out a key, but he must have had one, because the engine started purring quietly, and then we were darting between the lanes of cars.

  “How are we going to get this thing out of here without getting caught?” I asked.

  “The only way we can,” Owen answered. “Through the front door.”

  I couldn’t believe it as we scaled up the driveway and up onto the front lawn. Like, in plain sight.

  “I know I’m not a super evolved extra special Breaker or anything,” Casper noted. “But this seems like a pretty messed up way not to get caught sneaking out.”

  “Right. Well, as you said, you are neither special, nor evolved,” Merrin said. She reached into the front seat and put a cold finger along the back of my neck. I bristled.

  “Don’t worry, you’re not my type. But if I’m going to do this, I’m going to need to draw on as much energy as possible, and you’re the only game in town, at the moment.”

  “Do what?” I asked, but looked at Owen instead of Merrin.

  “We’re gonna shade ourselves and the car,” he answered.

  “From the entire school,” I asked.

  “From the entire school,” he answered.

  “Ever done that before?”

  “Not exactly,” he fidgeted. “But we’re confident.”

  “Just sit still and pretend we’re not where we are,” Merrin said, tightening her grip around my neck. “I’m not here. You’re not here. None of us are here. We don’t exist. The car doesn’t exist. There is only the open air.”

  In the distance, beside the gates that led out of Weathersby, a bunch of people, the entire student body, circled in large groups. We were going to have to pass right by them.

  “Owen, I-“

  “Just believe it, Cresta. Believe we’re not here. They won’t see us, because there’s nothing to see.” He took my hand. “You can do it.”