“Maybe she stopped in here before coming to my house?”
That meant she was either still looking for the journal, or worse, she could have it on her right now. I headed for the filing cabinets behind the wet bar. Just walking past the crystal glasses made my head spin and I began to wonder if my mother was in over her head.
“No, I mean . . . something just doesn’t feel right,” he paused. “Don’t you feel it?”
“Let’s just look for the journal and get out. I think the whole we’re-not-supposed-to-be-here thing is creeping you out.”
But I could feel it too, something a little off, as if something other-worldly had tainted the very air we were breathing. I didn’t want to admit to Ryan that the whole house felt strange, nothing like the last time I had been here. I shrugged it off, knowing the reason might simply be that the last time I had been invited. That certainly wasn’t the case tonight.
I looked up at Ryan, meeting his unsure eyes.
“It’s just guilt, okay?” I tried to smile reassuringly.
I pushed the hair out of my eyes and glanced at my watch.
“I don’t see anything that looks like a journal,” I sputtered disappointedly. I looked up at Ryan. He was looking around uneasily, rubbing his palms up and down his arms. Then I noticed my breath filling the air before my eyes. Ryan was shivering and I could see his breath too, as if we were standing outside in the chill. The temperature had plummeted a good ten degrees in a matter of seconds and a gray pallor had tinged the lamp-glow in the office.
The cold I was now feeling was nothing like before. It was nothing like when a guardian was corrupted and taken from its human charge. This was deeper. I was internally cold, as if something were creeping its way inside my skin. Invading me.
“Let’s call it a night, alright? I can’t stand being here any longer,” I admitted and began walking toward the door. My sneaker crunched lightly beneath me, stopping me in my tracks. Kneeling down, I traced my finger over the glossy hardwood floor and rubbed it against my thumb. Black grit coarsely scraped my skin.
Ryan crossed the room to where I sat kneeling. “Guess the housekeeper missed a spot.”
“It’s sand.”
At that very moment, the chill went deeper. Something felt horribly wrong. It was as if the walls had eyes and they were all focused on me and Ryan.
As we opened the door to the hallway, Ryan came to a screeching halt. “Someone’s in the house,” he whispered.
I stood staring down the long, narrow hallway, knowing it was our only way out, but my feet wouldn’t budge. I was frozen with fear.
“In here!” Ryan tugged at my arm, pulling me into a coat closet, and quickly shut the door. “We’ll wait it out in here, then we’ll leave.”
I could feel the darkness closing in around me like a living, breathing organism, filling the air with an unnatural pulsating thickness.
Ryan’s boyish face was inches from my own and I looked at him now, wondering if he was going as crazy as I was. This tiny closet we had ourselves crammed into was playing tricks on my mind. But we couldn’t move. Not yet.
“Do you think it’s the housekeeper?” I asked quietly.
“I dunno. Why would she be cleaning this time of night?”
I had an awful feeling. “What if it’s Brynn?”
Ryan just looked at me without answering. We both knew it wasn’t Brynn. Something strange was happening in this house. Something . . . unnatural.
Ryan’s face was illuminated by the flashlight I was holding in my unsteady hand and the light wobbled in various directions like a strobe light. The sensation of feeling seasick washed over me. A glimpse of jeans. My coat pocket. His knee. The wall. At last the light settled on his face. His skin looked pale and sickly in the yellow light. It reminded me of the night Claire took me to the rave.
Oh God, what an awful impression I had of Ryan then.
We listened to the silence, which is really a strange thought. If there’s silence, then what exactly are you listening to? I suppose it was more a question of what we were listening for.
Ryan broke the hush, his voice gravelly, croaking like a wheeze. “Before my mom died, she told me heaven wasn’t really a place. It’s in our minds. We make our own happiness.”
Garreth had told me the same thing. I wondered why Ryan’s mom would tell him something like that. Maybe it was her escape from an abusive relationship?
“What if . . . what if hell was there too? What if it was all in our heads?”
We sat thinking.
Ryan rubbed his hands together. I imagined a tiny spark igniting between his palms. I imagined warmth and safety, but it seemed so far away right now. It was so cold here, but we had to stay. Just stay and wait. Wait for this terrifying feeling we were both experiencing to subside, or wait for Dr. Nathaniel Dean to return home to his strange, cold house. Neither one sounded like a good option.
I pictured a flame in Ryan’s hands.
Hell.
Garreth once told me of a living hell, but that had been Hadrian’s warped idea. Things were different now.
But still . . .
Lucifer’s hell.
A personal hell created in each person’s mind.
All it would take is just one tiny spark.
If heaven and hell were what each one of us envisioned, could the two co-exist? There would have to be a constant struggle between what was right and what was wrong. We all struggled with that every day; over what was good and what was . . . evil.
I looked at Ryan rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet, shivering.
He had a point.
And if that were true, then how could we ever escape it?
With bated breath we waited out minutes that seemed to stretch forever. Sitting crouched in a closet in still silence was pure torture. Finally, Ryan gave me a look that more or less signaled now or never and we made a quick and, hopefully quiet, break for the kitchen door.
Once we were out of the house, we ran without stopping to the corner of Claymont and Church. By the time we had reached the end of the cul-de-sac my lungs were burning.
“Holy crap,” Ryan breathed heavily into the cold night. “I never thought we would get out of there.”
My own heart was beating against the inside of my chest as I drew long breaths of air into my lungs. I was still cold, but not like before. Now I was shaky from feeling so afraid. It was a horrible after-effect. My house was a few yards down from where we stood and I was anxious to get home, to the quiet safety of my room.
I looked at Ryan. He was looking back at me.
“Should we try and guess what just happened back there?” he finally said out loud.
I shook my head. “No, I need some time to think about it.”
And then in silence, he walked me home.
Chapter Twenty
The entire weekend passed by like a bad dream. I sequestered myself to my room, catching up on calculus homework and only coming out into the light of day to fill up on Skittles and frozen waffles. My excursion with Ryan on Friday had left me shaky and unsure about a million things and the best way to deal with it all was to be alone.
When Monday arrived, I was fully prepared to face the week as a strong, stable individual.
I should have stayed in my room.
“Sweetie,” my mom said breathlessly as she tore through the kitchen before work. She looked frantic, flushed . . . so not my mom.
“I realize this is last minute, but Nate has taken a few personal days and wants to take me to his cabin up north. He’s picking me up from the library. There’s food here and I’ll leave you money for take-out, but promise you and Brynn won’t order out every night.”
“You say that like she and I will be spending time together.”
“Well, we’re not going to leave you two alone. Besides, this is a perfect opportunity for you two to learn how to get along.”
My mouth hung open, yet she continued to race around the kitchen as i
f the house were on fire. Then, just as quickly, she stopped.
“You’ll be fine. It’s only two days.”
I responded with a blank stare.
“Teagan, please, I don’t have time for this. I’m running late as it is already.”
“Fine. Go,” I murmured.
“That’s my girl,” and she patted my shoulder like a puppy.
“Just don’t expect me to be alive when you come back.” I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. A part of me wanted her to feel bad for leaving me here.
“Teagan, don’t be ridiculous. Now, I have to go. Promise you’ll keep an eye on things and that you’ll try to get along? For me?”
Everything inside me shouted No! but I nodded, knowing it was what she wanted me to give her. She kissed my cheek, then grabbed her purse and a small suitcase and suddenly I was alone.
I thought about what she had just said, about not being ridiculous. “My life is ridiculous,” I said out loud as I grabbed my backpack and locked the door behind me.
The plan was that I would follow Brynn home after school. Sitting in my car, I watched the other kids crossing the parking lot, making their way to their cars. Brynn was late, as usual, which was fine by me. I was in no hurry to see her, speak to her or step foot inside her house again.
Especially after Friday night.
I told Ryan about my mother’s last minute plans at lunch, just so someone would know my whereabouts, should something foul happen. He stared at me sort of zombie-like, then said, “whoa, good luck.” But today was definitely not lucky. Garreth had finally returned to school and the few times our paths crossed were wordless and uncomfortable. It seemed he was purposely avoiding me since the football field incident, choosing not to speak to me. At all. Maybe he was embarrassed? He certainly had lost his grip on his emotional control that afternoon. I saw him from a distance a few times during the course of the day, but that was the extent of it.
“Screw it,” I said out loud and started the car. “Sorry Mom, but Brynn can fend for herself.” For all I knew, she was sitting in her car a few rows back laughing her butt off.
Just as I was about to back up, I looked up and my breath caught in my throat. Garreth was standing in front of my car, staring at me. I turned the key, killing the engine, and slowly stepped out of the car. For some reason, I felt if I moved too quickly he would turn and leave.
He didn’t appear angry, on the surface at least, but I couldn’t tell. An entire week without him had made him feel like a stranger.
“Hey,” I said apprehensively.
“Hi, Teagan,” he said back and my heart leaped wildly at the sound of his voice. I missed him so much, but something told me not to let it show.
I walked toward the hood of the car, then stopped and leaned against it. I couldn’t help remembering the other night in the bathtub, when I had seen a ghastly vision of Garreth in pain. He looked perfectly fine now—well not completely. His eyes didn’t sparkle like they used to. He wasn’t looking at me like he used to—but it was better that he wasn’t in any physical sort of pain.
“Garreth, what happened?”
He looked away for a moment.
“I’m not talking about the drinking or the suspension. I’m talking about . . . you.”
Warily, he met my eyes. “Everything happened.”
“I don’t understand.” Was he blaming me for his own actions?
“I never expected to feel like this. I can’t keep up with it all.”
“Maybe it just takes time?”
“Watching the human race as an outsider is completely different from experiencing it firsthand. It’s thrilling and everything I do makes me crave this unexplainable rush.” Garreth had been toying with the zipper-pull on his black jacket, but now he was clenching his fists, grinding one hand into the other.
“Did you ever realize that it was also making you act like a jerk?”
As soon as I said that, he looked up, confused.
“I thought you wanted this for me?”
“I did. I didn’t know it would change you so much.”
Silence fell between us.
“So you brought Hadrian back?”
My eyes narrowed, feeling a defensive edginess creep over me. I already made my mind up that Garreth was just going to have to accept and deal with the fact that I had two angels.
“Seems that way,” I said back, trying to sound indifferent.
“And you trust him? After everything he’s done?” It was his turn to give me a hard look.
I looked him straight on and felt the tension between us rise again. I was riding on instinct here and was beginning to pick up vibes telling me to be on guard, but not about Hadrian. How could I admit an unexplainable trust was building between Hadrian and I? I centered myself and drew in a deep breath.
“I guess I do.”
A shadow passed over his blue eyes and then something caught his attention across the lot.
I followed his gaze and saw Brynn slowly making her way over.
“Your hands are full,” he muttered.
With a strong shrug, I squared my shoulders and replied, “I can handle her.”
“I wasn’t just talking about Brynn.”
My mouth hung open as he ended the conversation by walking away toward his Jeep.
I looked over to see Brynn three feet away from me, leaning against a neighboring car and I quickly closed my mouth. Her one eyebrow and the left corner of her mouth were turned up, as if my very presence revolted her. There was something about the sight of her, combined with Garreth’s new attitude, that made me straighten up and realize life wasn’t going to magically readjust itself. That I needed to intervene and take charge.
“I just came to tell you that plans have changed. I have better things to do than hang out with you just because my dad asked me to.”
Brynn’s chocolate brown eyes tore away from mine and shot over to her friends. In the afternoon sun, Sage’s caramel skin glistened exotically. She was chattering away with Lauren and Emily, who was impatiently looking over in Brynn’s direction.
“Yes, I see your adoring fans are waiting for you. I wouldn’t put much stock into how tight you are with them anymore. They seem to have loose lips lately.”
“You have no right to talk about my friends, let alone think about them. Besides, my friends are nothing without me,” she smiled smugly.
I could see them over Brynn’s shoulder. Lauren was playing with her car keys, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. She mouthed something to Sage, who nodded in exaggerated agreement.
By the time Brynn glanced back they were gone. Three car doors shut a few parking spaces away and I caught a glimpse of three heads laughing inside the warm, leather interior of Lauren’s Celica as they slowly began to drive away.
The look of utter shock seeped into Brynn’s expression, but she quickly recovered.
“I’m meeting them later,” she said indignantly, as if their taking off without her was a simple thing, and she began to fumble through her purse for her car keys. Giving up with a sigh, Brynn zippered her Juicy bag and gave me an unrecognizable look.
“Something wrong?”
As if admitting the truth behind her strained appearance was beneath her, she rolled her eyes and looked toward the school. “My keys are in Lauren’s locker.”
“Your keys?”
Brynn sighed with exasperation, “I stashed my stuff in her locker after lunch because it was closer to my AP French class, alright?”
I had to admit, seeing her squirm like this was highly entertaining, but it didn’t erase the fact that Brynn no longer had a way home, at least not with someone she wanted to go with.
Visions of my mother and Nate in his sleek little Infiniti, driving along, talking about how his demon-daughter and I would bond over the next two days surfaced.
I didn’t want to do it, but . . .
“I can give you a ride.”
Brynn looked at me for
a very long seven seconds, and sighed. “Whatever.” With a hurried glance around us, she opened the passenger side door and slid inside. As soon as she closed the door, a thought came to me. Did Brynn feel any remorse or guilt for her part in Claire’s death? Did it bother her to be in this car? Claire’s car? I looked over at her but she just looked like she always did. Annoyed.
Chapter Twenty-One
The ten minute ride to Brynn’s house was worse than getting my wisdom teeth removed in ninth grade. I thought the silence after my mother and I argued was excruciating.
I tried to break the ice shortly after leaving the school parking lot, only to ask if she didn’t have her keys then how would she get into her house? I was dreading the possibility of having to spend the next few days with her, ordering Chinese and having to loan her my clothes. Fortunately, Brynn responded that she could get in through the back, and images of Ryan and me sneaking into her home on Friday night assaulted me.
I turned onto Whitman Street, heading towards the far end, where the road curved into the wide arc of a cul-de-sac. In the daylight, the gray dry-stacked home at 19 Whitman Street was breathtaking. A black iron fence ran the length of the front yard, breaking for the narrow flagstone walk, which led to an oversized arched doorway. It had black shutters that looked restored from an early nineteenth-century country home and a pristine yard full of butterfly bushes and wisteria that bloomed up until early fall.
Slowly, I steered my car up the long narrow drive that widened behind the house. Seeing the kitchen door made my palms sweat as I pictured the long hallway waiting behind it, the one that led to Dr. Dean’s personal office and the tiny closet Ryan and I huddled in for what seemed like a chilly eternity. I expected Brynn to slam the door in my face and bound away, but instead she shocked me and offered the opposite.
“You can come in if you want,” mumbling the invite over her shoulder as she headed for the door. I sat still, not quite sure I had heard her correctly. She stopped and turned towards me, the door swinging open to reveal the warmth of a French country kitchen inside. I suppose one doesn’t take in too much detail when they’re fleeing in terror.
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