Uninvited

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Uninvited Page 14

by Amanda Marrone


  Oh my God, no.

  “No!” I scream as the stake falls from my hand, and Michael drops out of sight.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Damn it! He had it all planned. He knew I’d invite him in to save Lisa. He knew it, and now we’re both dead. I hear footsteps running up the stairs. I turn as my mother throws open my door. Steve pushes in behind her.

  “Jordan, what’s the matter?” she shrieks.

  Their eyes focus behind me to the open window.

  “What the hell is going on?” he asks.

  “Uh, a raccoon. It was a raccoon.”

  “A raccoon?” my mom trills. She takes a step back, her eyes darting around the room like she’s looking for some rabid fur ball ready to leap out, foam flying.

  “Yeah, I, uh, heard this sound and thought it was Nutty in the tree, trying to get in. But when I opened the window, it was a raccoon. I, uh, got scared and threw a book, and I guess I hit the window.”

  Steve rolls his eyes, pushes past me, and slams the window shut. I half expect the glass to shatter apart, but it holds. “Jesus, I’m not paying to heat the neighborhood. You shouldn’t be letting that damn cat in that way, anyway.” He stands back and looks at the glass. “You’re going to pay to get this repaired, young lady, and maybe that’ll teach you to think twice before you go off half-cocked next time.”

  Mom turns to him. “Well, at least it didn’t break.”

  Steve turns to leave, shaking his head and muttering.

  “I’ll talk to him. Don’t worry about this,” my mom says, following him out and closing the door.

  My head feels like it’s going to explode. I sit on my bed and dial Lisa’s number with a shaking finger. I’m not even sure what I’m going to say. One ring … two…

  “Jordan?” Mrs. Dolan asks.

  “Yes, hi, Mrs. Dolan. I know it’s late, but could I talk to Lisa?”

  “Lisa went to bed a while ago, but I’ll tell her you called.”

  “Oh, okay, I was just, uh, thinking about her. Do you think maybe you could check on her?”

  “I appreciate your concern. Lisa said she told you about what happened, but rest assured, we’re keeping a close eye on her.”

  “But maybe you could check on her, okay?”

  Mrs. Dolan exhales. All right. Good night, Jordan.

  “Good night.”

  I get up and start pacing around my room. Okay, maybe Lisa is asleep, or maybe she’s going to sneak out later when everyone else is asleep. Maybe Michael made the whole thing up. What do I do?

  The phone rings and I run to my night table. “Hello?”

  “It’s Mrs. Dolan. Lisa’s not in her room, but maybe she’s heading to your house again.”

  Oh, God. “Okay, if she does, or if I hear from her, I’ll let you know.”

  “Thank you. Her father is going out to look for her, but please call me immediately if you see her.”

  I click the phone off and then back on, and dial.

  “Hello?”

  “Thank goodness!”

  “Jordan?”

  “Yeah. I really need your help. Can you get your mom’s car and meet me outside?”

  “It’s kind of late; I was getting ready for bed.”

  “It’s an emergency.”

  “It’s okay that you don’t believe me,” I tell Rachael. “I know it sounds beyond crazy, but I really appreciate you doing this for me. For Lisa.”

  Rachael stops the car at a red light and turns to face me. “I believe you believe Michael is alive.” She glances at the stake sitting in my lap.

  “Technically, he’s not alive.”

  “So you said.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Look, you don’t have to prove anything to me. Let’s just drive around and see if Lisa is really out and about.”

  “With Michael.”

  “With whomever.”

  I shake the Diet Coke bottle filled with holy water. “I still can’t believe you got this.”

  “God bless bingo, I guess.” Rachael laughs. “And, hey, if nothing else comes of tonight, just seeing the faces on those little old ladies when I came charging up the church steps waving the empty bottle around will have been worth it. I think they were so relieved I wasn’t after their bingo loot, they’d have done anything I asked.”

  “You must believe me a little. I mean, you went to all that trouble. Right?”

  Rachael shakes her head. “I don’t know why I stopped. I looked over at this church, the doors opened and light flooded out. Kind of like it was a sign. I pulled over without even thinking about it. I got something else, too.” Rachael reaches over to her purse, her hand fumbling inside. She pulls out a long beaded chain with a crucifix hanging in the middle. “What do you call this? A rosary necklace?”

  “Rosary beads.” I take it from her hand. “My grandmother had a string of these in every room of her house.”

  “Some lady just gave it to me. She actually called after me and put it in my hand. She said she thought I might need it.”

  “It’s purple,” I say, squinting down at the beads. “Matches your hair!”

  “Fate!” Rachael says. “But I’m not saying I expect to be chatting up Michael Green tonight.”

  The light turns and Rachael steps on the gas pedal. “So Sea Cliff and Glen Cove were a bust; where to now? Do you want to call Lisa’s house and see if they found her?”

  “Let’s try Bayville first.” I slump down in the seat. “I was sure they’d be at Sea Cliff. Michael made some crack about working on his suntan, and Lisa used to live there in the summers.”

  “Maybe she was afraid you’d come looking for her and figure out where she went. Maybe they’re meeting on the tennis courts behind the school. Maybe Michael just said that to throw you off the track.”

  “No, let’s try Bayville.”

  Rachael yawns and I see her look at the dashboard clock. It’s almost one in the morning, and I’m wishing she’d drive faster — Bayville Beach is twenty minutes away.

  “Wait! It’s too far.”

  “What’s too far?”

  “Bayville. Lisa can walk to Sea Cliff Beach, but she’d need to take a car to Bayville, and her parents would hear the engine start up.”

  Rachael pulls over to the side of the road and puts the car into park. She leans forward and rests her head on the steering wheel. “Jordan, this has been interesting, but what do you say we call it a night? Or call the Dolans? It’s not like they’d get mad at you for calling so late; they know you’re worried. I’ll even drive to their house, knock on the door, and ask about Lisa myself.”

  “No, just drive to the beach before it’s too late.”

  Rachael sighs. “Jordan, I’m tired. We have school tomorrow.”

  “Please, Rachael. Let’s check one more time. If they’re not there you can have me certified, locked away — anything you want. I just can’t let anything happen to her.”

  “This is so classic.” Rachael sits up and turns to me. “Listen carefully: You are not responsible for Lisa and how she’s dealing with her problems.”

  “Tell me that again in the morning when we find out Lisa’s dead — or worse.”

  “Listen to yourself. This is crazy. You have to see that this is crazy.”

  “You didn’t hear what he said. If you had, you’d understand.”

  “Okay, whatever.” Rachael puts the car into drive and makes a U-turn on Shore Road. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Rachael?”

  “What?”

  “I invited him in.”

  “What?”

  “Michael. I invited him in. I actually tried to let him in Friday night, but I had to throw up. Tonight I invited him in so he wouldn’t go after Lisa.”

  “So, did he come in?”

  “No, he said he thought it would be more fun to come back and do a tag team with Lisa. He can come into my house any time he wants now.”

  “This is one for the books.”

>   “I wish.”

  I finger the cross hanging around my neck. Part of me wishes I were crazy. At least Lisa would still be alive in the morning.

  The car turns down the big hill to the beach. I strain to see between the houses and trees. We round the last curve and the wind buffets the car. I look out onto the sound. Whitecaps shine in the bright moonlight. My eyes follow the length of the beach.

  “Rachael, look! By the jetty.” I point toward two figures sitting by the rocks. It’s too dark to see their faces from here, but I know it’s Lisa’s small frame nestled into Michael’s.

  Rachael turns off the headlights and motor, and coasts into a parking spot. “I see them.”

  I look at Rachael; her eyes are wide. I grab the stake and reach for the door handle.

  Rachael’s hand snatches out, her fingers digging into my arm. “Don’t go out there.”

  “I have to!” I pull my arm away and open the door. “I won’t let this happen.” I get out of the car and a gust of wind blows sand into my mouth. I spit it out as I sprint toward the jetty.

  “Jordan, wait!” Rachael yells after me, but I keep running.

  The wind is pushing against me, and I wonder if Michael is somehow controlling it — trying to keep me away. “Michael, stop!”

  He lifts his head up. A dark smear covers his mouth and chin. Lisa’s head hangs limply back, and I’m afraid it will blow off in the wind.

  “Leave her alone!” I get closer, and he drops Lisa to the sand and pulls his sleeve across his mouth. Lisa pushes up on one elbow.

  “Jordan?” She moves her hand to her neck and then looks down at the blood staining her palm. “Oh, God,” she moans.

  Without taking my eyes off Michael, I lift the cross over my head and slowly walk toward him.

  Michael smiles and licks his lips. “Jo, I thought you’d be cowering in your room. But I guess you missed me too much. Unfortunately, I’m not quite finished here yet, so you’ll have to wait your turn.” He looks down at Lisa. “Although she may be finished. I’m not sure how much blood she has left. This is the first time I’ve actually tried out the new choppers on a person, but you know what? One hundred fucking percent better than draining a squirrel!”

  “Rachael!” I scream. I take a step closer and raise the stake.

  A worried look flashes in his eyes, and he takes a step back. “You gotta be kidding me. You don’t actually think you could use that, do you?”

  “Without a moment’s hesitation.”

  He steps back again, brushing up against the jetty.

  Rachael runs up beside me. “Holy shit,” she says slowly, and puts one hand on my arm. “Holy shit.”

  “Rachael, long time, eh?” Michael says. “Props to you for finally growing some hair. But, babe,” Michael smirks, “I gotta subtract points ’cause purple is so not cool.”

  “Is she okay?” Rachael asks, ignoring him. “Should I call 911?”

  “Lisa?” I call out. “You still with us?”

  Lisa sits up, her hand pressed against her neck. “Yeah,” she says softly “I’m sorry, Jordan.”

  I look down at the rosary beads in Rachael’s hand. “Do you have the water?”

  “Yeah,” she yells over the wind. “I can’t believe this.”

  The wind is howling at our backs. My hair is whipping around, stinging my eyes, but I’m afraid to move my hands to brush it aside. I see Michael’s eyes dart back and forth from our faces to the crosses. Water splashes over the jetty, spraying us. He looks up at the rock wall. I imagine he could easily jump over it — and just as easily land in the water. Long Island Sound would certainly make a very big bathtub to drown Michael in.

  Does he know vampires can’t swim?

  “Well, ladies, as appealing as a threesome sounds, I think I’ll leave you two to Lisa and be on my way.”

  Michael turns from me to Rachael and takes a step sideways. Rachael and I lunge toward him, and he slams back into the rocks.

  He lets out a nervous laugh. “I guess the cross stuff is true, eh? How about I promise to leave you alone, and we call it even?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t think so.”

  Michael purses his lips. “How ’bout you, Rachael? “You think that’s a good idea? It’s pretty cold out here and that coat doesn’t look very warm. I can feel the wind blowing right through you. You can’t even feel your hands, it’s so cold. Rachael, I can feel you shivering. I can feel you turning to ice and letting the cross g—”

  “Shut up!” I scream.

  I look at Rachael and see her teeth chattering. “Holy shit,” she says again.

  “I know.” I grip the stake tighter. Even without Michael’s help, my fingers are turning numb.

  “Well,” he says, “there’s always plan B.”

  Suddenly Michael shrinks, and a huge brown bat races toward me. “Rachael!”

  “I got it!” she yells, flinging the holy water at the bat rising over me.

  The wind gusts and I pray some of it will hit the mark. Water ices my skin as it lands on my face and seeps onto my scalp. The bat lets loose a high-pitched shriek and comes crashing down on top of me, knocking me to the sand. “No!” I yell as the cross and stake fly from my hands.

  Leathery wings scratch my face, but then it changes, and Michael is writhing on me, howling. His weight presses down and I can’t catch my breath. I hear his skin bubble and crack as my throat silently tries to get some air.

  “You bitch!” he bellows, and sharp teeth slash through my coat and into my shoulder. The warm blood is the only thing I feel until Michael’s fist smashes my face into the sand.

  “Get off her!” Rachael’s voice echoes in my ears. I look up and she pushes her cross into Michael’s face. He lashes out and knocks her back, then rolls off me, screaming.

  My lungs suck in air; hot pain flashes in my shoulder. I scramble on my hands and knees toward Lisa, but he grabs my leg and pulls me back. Knifelike fingernails cut through my jeans into my calf.

  “Lisa, help me!” I call out, digging my fingers into the sand to try to pull away from him.

  Lisa crawls toward me and reaches for my hand. I scream as Michael’s nails cut a trail down my leg.

  “Jordan!” Rachael grabs my other hand, and I kick my free leg at his head. He loses his grip and Rachael starts to pull me up, but my leg buckles the second I put weight on it.

  Michael yanks my foot back and my hands are ripped from theirs. I land on my stomach, and cold sand grinds into my chin as Michael drags me back.

  He heaves me up in his arms and squeezes tight. I can barely breathe, barely move. My ribs feel like they’re going to collapse and snap into my chest.

  “Get back!” He moves an icy hand up to my neck. “Get back or I’ll rip her throat out.” He tightens his hold on my neck, and my eyes bulge as a small, wheezing breath escapes my mouth.

  Rachael freezes; Lisa falls to her knees, sobbing. “We had a deal. You said you’d leave her alone. You promised me you’d leave her alone.”

  “Yeah, well, I lied.”

  “You fucking bastard!” Rachael screams. She starts toward him and flings the bottle of holy water at us.

  Only a few drops hit my cheek, but Michael is cursing, so there must have been enough left to hurt him. He drops me and I fall to the sand, gasping for air. My ribs twinge as I turn and look up into his face. A black cross is charred into his cheek at the base of a blistered path that’s splattered across his mouth and up over his nose and eyes. In the moonlight, I see sores oozing where curls used to be. He’s cradling one clawlike hand burned from the holy water. I think this is how Michael has always looked, underneath it all.

  He falls back onto the sand, and I wish the sounds of the waves and the wind were louder than his cries.

  Rachael pulls me away from him and hugs me tight.

  “Look out!” Lisa yells.

  Before I can turn, Michael snatches me away from Rachael, and I’m flying up into the air. My arms and legs wave fra
ntically, trying to find some ground. My right knee smashes into the rocks on the jetty, and I slide across the wet seaweed, toward the waves on the other side. I scrape my hands across the surface, stopping a few feet from the edge. A wave breaks over the rocks, drenching my legs, and I cry out as the salt water soaks through my jeans and into the gashes in my leg.

  I hear a thud behind me. “Just you and me now, Jo.” Michael pushes his boot into my back, nudging me toward the water. My hands grab at the rocks as I try to find any small crevice to hold onto.

  “Rachael, find the stake! Find the stake!”

  His foot kicks out again, and I wince in pain as I head closer to the black churning waves. The old pier is only ten feet or so from the jetty, but I don’t know if I’d have the strength to swim to it.

  His foot jabs into my back again, pushing me closer to the edge. A wave flies up into my face. The water stings my eyes, and I hear him stumble back. My body shakes uncontrollably. Every muscle is cold and sore and battered, but I’ve come too far to just give up.

  “Big man, scared of a little water,” I hiss, trembling.

  He grabs the collar of my coat and pulls me back from the edge. His cold, blistered face nuzzles my neck and slides under my chin. I breathe in his fetid smell and the sickly sweet coconut stench as his arms tighten around me.

  “Stop!” I cry, trying to push out of his arms.

  “Do you remember how good it used to be?” he whispers. “How much you loved being with me? I know you miss that. I know you want that again.”

  His seared lips kiss my neck and I struggle to break free. “Michael, please.” I ignore the pain in my leg and ribs, and try to thrash out of his hold. He squeezes tighter and I cry out.

  “Tell me you loved me,” he whispers.

  “No! Please, no!”

  “Tell me.” He covers my neck with kisses, and then his teeth pierce my skin. It doesn’t hurt like I thought it would; all I can feel are his cold lips clamped down on me. I suddenly feel light, and my eyes roll back as warm blood is sucked away. I hear myself moan as I lean into him. He loosens his hold and I feel myself floating. I feel my blood warming him. All the pain is gone.

 

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