by Heidi Lang
“Alyssa heard her mom talking to your mom about it before you arrived. And news travels fast around here.” Vivienne grinned. “Alyssa and I are both on the team.”
“But I thought tryouts weren’t until Saturday.”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty much a shoe-in. No brag, just fact.”
Rae laughed. Alyssa might not like her, but Vivienne seemed like someone she could be friends with.
Vivienne kept up a near-constant stream of chatter as they headed down the hall, stopping only briefly at the lockers to drop off their backpacks. Rae mostly just listened, allowing Vivienne’s conversation to carry her along. It made things much easier, and before she knew it, they were in homeroom. “You can sit there,” Vivienne said, pointing at the desk next to hers.
Rae took it, and a few seconds later Alyssa hurried inside, stopping when she saw Rae. “Um, that’s actually my seat,” she began, just as second bell shrieked down the hall.
“Take your seats,” the teacher at the front ordered. “That means you, Miss Lockett.”
Alyssa frowned but took a seat at a desk a few rows over.
“Whoops,” Rae said. “She looks a little mad.”
“She’ll get over it.” Vivienne waved a hand casually. “It’s your first day. You should be comfortable!”
But Rae could practically feel Alyssa glaring at her from the back. Comfortable. Yeah, right.
A boy stepped inside the classroom. Rae sat up straighter, recognizing him immediately as her neighbor from across the street. Once again he was wearing all black, from his T-shirt to his skinny jeans. The only color on him came from his beat-up grayish-white sneakers and the gemstones on his thick silver rings. Even his hair was black. It was spiked up around his head, but not like he styled it intentionally, more like he ran fingers through it instead of a comb.
He met Rae’s eyes across the room. When she didn’t immediately look away, he raised both eyebrows, like some kind of challenge, and stared until Rae turned away, her face burning.
“That’s Caden Price,” Vivienne whispered.
“He lives across the street from me,” Rae said.
“Oh. You’ll want to watch out, then. He’s… well. Kind of a weirdo.”
“Weirdo how?” Seemed sort of ominous in a town where everything appeared to be a little weird. “I mean, I did see a sign in his yard for Paranormal Price.”
“Oh yeah, that. His mom has a ghost-hunting business.”
“A what?”
“She does exorcisms, house cleansings, stuff like that.” Vivienne said it as casually as someone back home might have said, “His mom’s an accountant.”
“Okay…,” Rae said.
“This town is super haunted,” Vivienne added.
Rae laughed awkwardly.
“You’ll see,” Vivienne said, all cryptic. “But anyhow, about nine months ago, his older brother vanished. Just poof! Gone.”
Rae frowned.
“Lots of people think Caden did it,” Vivienne continued. “Chopped his brother up and stuffed him in the walls. Especially since the police questioned him. Multiple times.”
“Is that what you think?”
Vivienne shrugged. “Hard to know.”
The announcements crackled on, long and droning. Rae barely heard them, her attention focused on the back of Caden’s head. She knew what it was like to have a family member vanish mysteriously—the way rumors would pile up around you higher and higher until you were buried in them, and even you weren’t sure what the truth was anymore. For one treacherous second, her heart ached, and she wanted to get up and talk to this boy. Find out his truth. Tell him she understood…
But she turned away from him.
She’d made her choice to blend in when she moved here, and she wasn’t about to look back now. “So, what class do you have first?” she asked Vivienne, once the announcements ended.
“I have—”
Bzzt! Bzzt! Bzzt!
The alarm sounded, loud and jarring, then was replaced by a new message blaring at top volume from the loudspeaker. “Warning. This is a code yellow. All students to stay in homeroom for a head count. I repeat, every student to remain where they are.”
Students looked around, as if they were doing their own head count, checking on their friends. Whispers filled the room like waves crashing, and Rae could practically feel the anxiety rising around her. “What’s a code yellow?” she asked.
Vivienne looked worried, her eyebrows drawing together. “It means another student has gone missing.”
“Does that, um, happen often around here?”
“No, not very often,” Vivienne said. “We only usually lose a student or two each year.”
“What? You lose students every year?” Rae gripped the edges of her desk.
“Yes, but this year?” Vivienne said, leaning closer. “This year it’s been worse.”
4. CADEN
Caden had never really loved school. Even before Aiden vanished, it had been something to endure. And today, with yet another student missing, it was worse than normal. He could feel the rumors flowing all around him, thick and sticky like blood.
No one said them to his face, of course. They were all too scared of him. But that made it worse.
At least today was almost over.
He sighed and sank lower in his seat as the bus rumbled down the road. Behind him, someone whispered the most recent rumor to their friend, that Caden wore his brother’s ashes in a pouch around his neck.
Caden’s hand brushed the small leather pouch tied around his neck, resting next to the pendant he always wore. Not ashes, just salt, he wanted to say. But that wouldn’t really make him less weird, even for this town, so he just stayed quiet and pretended he couldn’t hear. It was harder to ignore the feeling of everyone’s emotions pressing in on him like people in a too-crowded elevator. Suspicion like a wire-haired brush scraping relentlessly against his skin; glee at this next bit of gossip like tiny soapy bubbles; fear vibrating around him in small, chaotic waves.
For as long as Caden could remember, he’d always been able to sense people’s emotions. Sometimes it was a flash of color, other times almost a physical sensation. He used to think everyone could do it. After all, when he was little, no one else seemed to notice there was anything different about him. But that all changed in first grade.
Caden touched his pendant, remembering the day he’d learned that his abilities scared other people.
He’d burst into his mom’s study, sobbing so hard he could barely breathe. His mom had taken one look at him and put her tarot cards aside, listening as he told her how no one wanted to play with him anymore. First Josh Hemlock had shoved him during math class after he told everyone about Josh’s fear of the buttons they were counting. And then Emily Windsor had officially sworn never to speak to him again after he let slip that she had a secret crush on Jeremy Bentley. She’d called him a freak and a mind reader and warned everyone from getting too close to him.
After that, no one wanted anything to do with him. He’d spent recess playing by himself.
His mom had dried his cheeks on the sleeve of her sweater. My poor boy. She’d pulled him into her lap and wrapped her arms around him like he was a baby. Remember what I said about secrets?
But it’s not a secret. It’s obvious.
To you, maybe. But that’s because you have a special gift. She’d brushed his hair back from his forehead. A very rare and wonderful gift.
Do you and Aiden have it too?
No, we don’t. The only other person I know who could feel people’s emotions the way you can is my mother.
Caden had only met his grandmother once. If she was the only other one, then he was practically alone. Can I get rid of it?
No, honey. It’s a part of you. And someday you’ll appreciate it.
Caden had thought of how everyone had played basketball without him at recess. Even though he was one of the best players in the class, no one had wanted him on their team.
What if they never wanted him on their teams now? What if he always got picked last, or worse, not at all? I just want to be like everyone else, he had said, frustrated. Why can’t I be like them?
Because you’re a Price. It’s a heavy burden. She’d sighed. Someday you’ll understand exactly how heavy. But for now, your dad and I can teach you to shield yourself so you can keep most of those emotions out. She’d worked with him on a few exercises, and then she’d given him his talisman. To help you focus your energy, and for protection. And to remind you, she’d said.
Remind me of what?
Of who you are. And who you belong to.
Caden dropped his hand, letting the memory fade away. He didn’t need the reminder; he’d learned how to block out the emotions of others, but the damage had already been done. No one wanted to be friends with the kid who could read minds. And so even though he was very careful about what he said and he didn’t give away any other secrets, he still spent recess playing alone.
The only kid who wanted to hang out with him was his brother. He’d been the one to teach Caden how to block out people as well as emotions. You don’t need other people, he’d said. You have me.
Only now his brother was gone too. And Caden was completely alone.
He didn’t want to think anymore, especially about his brother, so he pulled a sketchbook out of his backpack and emptied his own emotions out, turning his mind as blank as the page in front of him. He doodled idly as the trees blurred past. First just shapes: swirls and lines forming strange patterns that twisted out to the corners of the page. Then objects: a moving van, a ring of salt, a girl with large brown eyes…
The bus driver stopped in front of Caden’s house. He closed his sketchpad and hurriedly stuffed it into his backpack, then stood up.
“Both of you, be careful,” the driver warned.
Caden glanced at the new girl hovering just behind him, her hands clenched around the straps of her backpack.
“Code yellow,” the driver added. As if they hadn’t been told that all day. Ever since Brandi hadn’t turned up for breakfast with her family that morning. She already had a reputation for sneaking out in the evenings—Caden had even seen her do it multiple times from his porch swing—so everyone figured she’d slipped out of the house after dinner to meet some friends, and then vanished.
That wasn’t too unusual for Whispering Pines; their school had a reputation for losing the occasional student. But last year they’d lost four students, including his brother. And even though the other three were found again eventually, according to the news, they’d been mutilated and were still being treated for some kind of trauma.
Now Caden knew there’d been a fifth disappearance: thirteen-year-old Peter McCurley, missing since late December. And with the attacks on those three kids this summer, and then Brandi’s disappearance today, people were beginning to worry that things here were getting worse. Which meant they’d start looking for a scapegoat. Since Brandi had lived on his street, Caden knew he’d be looked at with extra suspicion.
The bus door opened, and Caden stepped out into the muggy afternoon air. There was a strange heaviness to it, almost a physical weight. It made him uneasy, like the sky was pressing down on him.
The new girl followed him out, and the door shut, the bus pulling away.
Caden carefully kept his shields up, but he could still feel a hint of grief from the Jensen home down the road. He turned away, trying to block it all out, and caught the new girl staring at him, like he’d caught her several times today. Not as if she was afraid, but more like he was a puzzle she was trying to solve.
He wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
“What?” he asked.
“I was just wondering if you really murdered your brother and stuffed him in the walls of your house.”
Caden raised his eyebrows. Bold. That was a refreshing change. “Well, I would have,” he said casually, “but our walls were too thin.”
To his surprise, she smiled. She had an interesting mix of wide, gentle brown eyes, like a deer’s, with an angular jaw and very defined chin. But when she smiled, it took all the hardness out of her face. “I’m Rae,” she said.
“Caden.”
Her smile wavered, then slipped off her face. “What do you think happened to Brandi?” she asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you think they’ll find her?”
He glanced back at Brandi’s house. The lights were off, shutters pulled closed, like the whole house was in mourning. He knew what her family was going through. “I really hope so.”
“Me too.” Rae adjusted her backpack. “Well, I’ll see you around, Caden.” She lifted one hand in a little wave, then turned and headed across the street. He stood there, watching until she disappeared behind the trees that lined the front of her house. And then he stood a little longer until he heard the sound of her front door opening and closing, just to be sure she made it in.
It was a code yellow day, after all.
He turned and headed up his own driveway. It was long, unpaved, and steep, a real fun thing to shovel in the winter. Every year his dad talked about getting it paved, and every year he didn’t. Maybe this year, since they wouldn’t have as many people around to help. This past winter had been pretty hard on them.
Aiden had vanished just after the first big snowfall exactly nine months ago today. The same day as Peter McCurley.
Caden reached his front door and paused. Something didn’t feel right. It reminded him of a few years ago when he’d argued with his brother, and later discovered that Aiden had moved all of the furniture in his bedroom exactly one inch to the left. Not enough to be obvious, just enough to make Caden feel off-balance.
Around the house, the trees seemed to still, their branches quiet, their leaves no longer rustling. There was no wind at all.
Caden swallowed, one hand snaking up to rest against the pendant around his neck. It felt warm, and he couldn’t tell if the heat was from his skin or something else.
He glanced at his mom’s car sitting alone in the driveway, then eased the front door open. The house smelled like sandalwood and lavender, and immediately the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. His mom burned that incense to help clear her mind and mentally prepare herself before summoning a spirit. He left the door open, slid his sneakers off without untying them, and hurried silently past the kitchen.
Caden fought to keep his emotions calm so his presence wouldn’t be obvious to… whatever might be there. Because it certainly felt like something was in the house. Something that didn’t belong. As he crept down the long hall, his eyes on the closed door of his mother’s study at the far end, he felt like he was wading deeper into the ocean, the temperature dropping with every reluctant step. The space directly in front of the door seemed as cold as if he’d arrived at depths so far beneath the surface, the sunlight never reached them.
He grasped the doorknob, bracing for ice. But instead, the metal felt hot against his fingers. Painfully hot. The gemstones on his rings flashed and sparked, and he snatched his hand back. He gritted his teeth and gripped the knob again, this time ignoring the pain as he turned it sharply.
The door flew open. Caden almost fell into the room before he caught himself.
It was dark, the shades drawn thick over the windows, only a single candle burning in the center of the room for light. Caden’s mom was sitting in front of it, chanting something too soft for him to hear. She held a small brass bowl cupped between her hands. Her chanting rose and she lifted the bowl, tipping it gently over the candle, the flame sputtering and dancing as the liquid inside dripped slowly into it.
A sharp coppery smell filled the air. Blood.
Unease curled in Caden’s gut like a snake as the pressure in the air built, growing thick and heavy. He looked past his mother at the tall dark mirror looming behind the candle. The dancing flame reflected in the glass was all wrong, the fire stretching, forming lines, slowly outlining a silhou
ette…
Caden darted forward before his mind had even registered what he’d seen. Dimly he heard the study door slam shut behind him, his mom’s voice growing louder. The candle in front of her sputtered and roared, the flames changing from yellow and orange to a deep, dark purple, the outline in the mirror growing clearer, hands reaching, glass rippling—
“No!” Caden yelled. “Go away, you are not welcome here!” And he stepped past his mother and blew out the flame, plunging the room into total darkness.
She went quiet immediately. They both did. And in the ringing silence, Caden thought he heard footsteps, soft and close, and a whisper of laughter. Invisible fingers traced through his hair, then were gone.
He felt his mom get up, and a second later the lights turned on, flooding the room. “What,” she said slowly, furiously, “do you think you’re doing?”
“What am I doing?” Caden rose from his crouch by the still-smoking candle. “What are you doing?”
“You know better than to interrupt in the middle! You know how dangerous—”
“Dangerous?” Caden stalked toward her. Now that it was over, his fear had been snuffed out like the candle’s flame, replaced by a cold, hard anger. “Yes, I know how dangerous it is! Isn’t that why you promised you’d be more careful?”
“I am being careful!” she insisted, but her cheeks had gone pink, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“You’re using blood magic,” Caden said quietly. They both looked at her left arm, where blood was still oozing from a shallow cut. She turned away from him, going to her dresser and pulling out a length of white cloth, then pressing it against the wound. Caden wondered if she was going to ignore him now, pretend this conversation was over. He widened his stance. He wasn’t going anywhere. This was too important to gloss over.
“I’m looking for Peter,” she said finally. “His parents deserve to know what happened to him.”
What happened to him. That sounded depressingly final. Caden looked down at his mom’s setup, noticing the blue hat sitting next to the bloodstained bowl. “And did you find out?”
She glanced at him, then away again, her expression troubled. “Not yet,” she whispered. Caden tried sensing her emotions, but she had them tightly shielded. She was hiding something.
