She gaped at him. “What? That doesn’t make sense.” She rubbed her hands that were now ice cold over her leggings. Her mind reeled.
“I know, right? Hence the sketchy part,” he said glancing over at her again.
Something massive swooped down through the trees directly in front of the car. He jerked the wheel to the right and then jerked it back, barely missing sliding off the steep edge of the mountain.
Evie’s body wrenched to the side, slamming into his arm, her face planted in his lap. She jerked her head back up and lifted her shaking hands to her chest. “Shit!”
“Shit! Sorry.” His hands clenched around the wheel so tight his knuckles were turning white.
Neither said a word for the rest of the ride. Evie had no idea what swooped in front of the car and wasn’t real sure she wanted to know, at least not right now. Gravel crunched loudly under the tires as they pulled up in front of the gigantic wrought iron gates of Briarcliff. Barnaby pulled the car through, turned onto a patch of dead grass off to the side, squeezing between a pair of ancient trees, and threw the car into park. He leaned forward, pressing his head against the steering wheel. “Shit!” He sat back up and ran his shaking hands over his face. “I need a drink,” he said shakily.
“Yeah, me too,” she readily agreed. Barnaby looked green. “Thanks,” she said and reached forward to grab hold of his hand. It was just as clammy as her own was. It was kind of weird but comforting to hold onto his hand especially since they had just shared a near death experience together.
“For …” he prompted, squeezing her fingers lightly.
“You know… for being an awesome driver and all.”
A lopsided smile broke across his face. “I do have some mad racecar driver skillz don’t I?”
“Oh yeah… the maddest ever,” she said laughing.
Barnaby tightened his fingers around hers and began to lean forward.
The laughter seemed to evaporate out of the interior of the car.
Evie didn’t know what to do. It was one of those awkward moments. It looked like he might want to kiss her. Now she knew what felt like to be a deer in the headlights. She felt completely frozen. She was really grateful to Barnaby but was she that grateful?
Another car pulled up and somehow managed to fit between the other two trees right beside them.
Barnaby turned to look out the window and pulled his hand away.
She frowned at his back. That was fast. Surprisingly, she wasn’t as relieved as she thought she would be.
“Chance and Colton are here,” he said.
Perfect. She rolled her eyes. “Can he park any closer?”
“I know right.” He turned back around and gave her a halfhearted smile. “You know Evie…how bout we wait and discuss…you know, later… after we have a drink.”
“Yeah…sure…fine—whatever,” she said and climbed out of the car.
TWILIGHT
SATURDAY * 7:47 PM
The tree line loomed behind Adriane as he stepped back into the clearing. He lifted up his shirt and inspected his chest. The bloody rash was almost completely gone now. Instead of taking the path that wound around through the maze of hedgerows, he took a shortcut, and cut right through and into another clearing at the base of the hill. Branches snapped loudly as he pulled his body completely from the confines. Shaking his head, he knocked tiny leaves onto the ground from his hair. Music blared from up at the mansion. Vibrations slid over his muscled chest, making it tingle back to life a bit more. Raking his hands through his dark hair, he unearthed more tiny leaves, rumpling it more than the constant breeze had.
Glancing down at his borrowed shoes he wiggled his toes in the confines, amazed how heavy they felt. The clothing, he had borrowed—borrowed was being used lightly, of course. A rare smile spilt across his face as he remembered the look of sheer terror that had crossed the guys face when he jumped in front of his car last night.
The soles of his shoes crunched loudly on the graveled path leading up towards the side of the mansion. Once at the top he paused, sniffing the air… his eyes turned dark as a predatory sneer broke across his face. With unnatural speed, his arm shot out around the corner, yanking a body back, slamming it hard against the wall. Ready to snap the fragile bones of the neck, his fingers tightened around the soft flesh.
“Leave off Adriane,” a strangled voice yelled frantically, as fingers pushed back, clawing at his hand.
The glaze on Adriane’s eyes cleared as his predatory reflexes slid back into the confines of his body. He looked down and let out an exasperated sigh, releasing his deadly hold. “Simon, what are you doing here?”
Simon rubbed his neck and then a sly smile broke across his face. “I’m hanging at a par—Tay. The underworld is full right now.”
Adriane laughed and reached out giving him a one-armed hug. “It’s been a long time… my friend.”
“Yes, it has,” Simon mumbled into the front of his shirt then pulled away and lifted his hand in the air.
Adriane lifted his hand, copying Simon.
Simon smacked his hand.
“Damn,” Simon groaned, flexing his aching hand. “I forgot hitting you was like hitting granite.
Adriane gave him an apologetic look, shrugging his shoulders.
“Where’d you get your clothing?” Simon noticed Adriane’s clothing fit him better than the rejects he was stuck wearing. He briefly wondered if Adriane would want to switch and instantly changed his mind. The one Adriane wore would probably be too large for him as well.
“I borrowed them. “
“Borrowed?” Simon asked looking skeptical.
Adriane merely gave him a blank stare. “Where did you get yours?”
“I didn’t borrow them,” he scoffed and then added when he saw the reproving look Adriane was giving him. “Hey, I stole these fair and square,” he defended and then made a face. “Still a goodie gum drop I see,” he muttered under his breath.
“You realize I can hear you, right?”
Simon merely shrugged. It never ceased to amaze him how different Adriane and Alistair were from one another even though the resemblance between the two was freeeaky. They looked like brothers. Who knew, maybe they were in another life, one Simon didn’t remember.
Simon was shorter and not as broad as they were, but he didn’t mind. He overheard a girl say, “Good things come in small packages.” Maybe he would let her check out his own package later. Cocking his head to the side, he sniffed the air, and then spun around. “Damnit!” He widened his eyes when he saw how many of them were crawling down the side of the mansion.
Adriane looked up unsurprised. “You smell them too?”
“How can I not.” He made a face. “I swear they smell even worse or is it just me?”
Adriane shook his head. “No, I think you are right. They do smell worse.”
Simon stepped away, to get behind the wind instead of in front. “What do you think it means?”
“I guess we will find out soon enough,” Adriane said.
“Oh joy,” Simon said dejectedly, knowing what it meant if he could smell them. They were waking. He lifted his face to the sky watching the moon as it crept higher. At least it would be a while before the moon’s illumination filled the night, bringing their vileness with it.
They both turned when Alistair shuffled awkwardly around the corner of the mansion, carrying two red plastic cups in his hands and holding another in his teeth. The one in his mouth dropped.
Adriane leaned forward and snatched it from the air before it hit the ground. Lifting the cup to his face, he smelled the contents. Satisfied with the odor, he took a sip, swirling the liquid in his mouth.
“So,” Alistair said. “You’re awake.” He handed the remaining cup off to Simon.
“It would seem so.” Adriane said and took another drink from his cup, tasting a hint of cherries, which immediately reminded him of the girl, Evie, he had met last night.
Sighing audibly, Alistair
lifted the cup he was holding and gulped down more of the fiery liquid. It was already his third. He liked the taste. It danced on his tongue and burned warmly down his throat into his stomach. It made him warm. He was never warm any longer. The wind shifted. He spluttered out part of his drink not expecting the stench. “Are you kidding me?” he asked looking up.
“Mmm,” Simon said, breaking from taking a sip of his drink. “You smell them too?” He lifted his cup to Alistair and took another long pull. The contents dripped down the sides of his mouth and he wiped it away with the back of his hand.
“It’s hard to miss.” Alistair shook his head completely disgusted. Angrily he swiped his hair back from his eyes as the wind pushed it forward. “So,” he said, giving Adriane a pointed look, “any ideas why we are awake so early?”
Adriane lifted his brows. “No.” He stared over the rim of his cup. “You’ve been phasing a lot.” It was a statement. The changes in Alistair were obvious. He was bigger now. With each phasing of the moon, Alistair was brought back and each time he grew, becoming stronger than he was before. Glancing towards Simon, he noticed he was not as large, but that was to be expected. He was still a youngling, and had not phased as many times.
“It would seem so.” Alistair smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
Simon stood off the side, acting disinterested. Sipping his drink, he watched them both over the rim staring one another down. Their inky black hair whipped in the wind. Alistair’s unease was palpable…the caged animal trying to break free once more. Adriane, always in control—a silent force of reckoning. Simon smiled into his cup his eyes flitting back and forth between them, silently counting backwards… Ten…nine…eight…his own body tensing in anticipation of the fight that was about to ensue. It would be one hell of a close match now, if Alistair was so inclined.
Adriane held his stance, not ready to relinquish the tenuous hold he had over either of them, at least not yet. He needed them to believe he was the one in control, even though he was not so sure any longer. It had been a long time. A tremor passed through him. He felt Alistair pushing out, testing him. His control was slipping backward as Alistair gained ground. If he wasn’t careful he would lose what little ground he still had. Pushing his mind to the limit, he used every bit of his reserve strength he had acquired from the pit to get Alistair to bend to his will once more.
Alistair felt the nudge against his mind. Shifting on his feet, he focused, pushing back mentally, a force surged through him, he felt himself gaining ground but just as suddenly he began to feel the slow intense burn on the inside of his left arm, liquid fire filling every line … the pain becoming unbearable. The marking on his arm throbbed, the design glowing vibrant blue. Horrific memories slipped from the crevices of his mind, binding him once more. His body shuddered. It was too much to bear. Tearing his darkened gaze away he submitted once more. He stalked purposely away.
Adriane shuddered, clenching his hand into a tight fist trying to release the pain that had gathered behind his eyes. It felt like a thousand needles had been jammed into his head. A drop of blood slipped from his nose, spattering to the gravel underfoot. He quickly wiped it away before Alistair saw.
Simon, however, caught the action. A slow smile crept across his face as he turned away and walked over to join Alistair.
ANXIOUS
SATURDAY * 8:03 PM
“What time is it?” Moriah asked, fidgeting nervously.
“About five minutes later than the last time you asked,” Kingston replied, checking out another crowd of people ambling down the drive. He spotted Colton and Chance waving them over.
“I wonder what’s taking them so long,” Moriah asked, looking up the drive watching Colton and Chance waving towards Kingston. She spotted Heather Bishop and her sidekicks, Addison and Brianna walking beside them.
“Babe, she’ll be back soon. It does take a while to get to town and she had to shower, right?”
“Right,” Moriah said absently, watching Heather grab hold of Colton’s hand. He leaned forward, saying something to her. Heather pulled back, laughing, smacking him lightly. Dick.
Chance broke away, jogging over as he pushed his hand through his sun-streaked hair. “Hey, this looks totally sweet. How’d you score this place?” he asked Kingston.
“I have my ways,” Kingston said.
“Sure, right. Of course you do,” Chance acknowledged, knowing full well Kingston’s family was so loaded it wouldn’t surprise him if they owned the place and everything else in a thousand mile radius. They were like the Rockefellers of New England.
Colton broke away from Heather and snuck up behind Kingston. “Boo!” he yelled loudly in his ear and grabbed hold of his shoulders, squeezing them. “
Kingston didn’t even flinch. He turned, annoyed, raising his brow defiantly. “Hey man, you’re rumpling my shirt.”
“Dude calm down, it’s just a t-shirt,” Colton said laughingly.
“Yeah right, I don’t want it fingered up.” He gave Colton a scathing look. “Who knows where your damn hands have been.”
Colton bit back a nasty retort. He was going to say they had been all over Moriah’s sidekick, but then saw the look Moriah gave him. Her pretty, dark blue eyes were seething as she gave him an evil glare. He wondered what in the hell that chick Edie had said to her. Not that he really cared, except after he had left her high and dry, something completely messed up happened to him. He was headed down the mountain when he saw someone or something jump out in front of his car. He slammed on his breaks; he thought for sure he had hit whatever it was, but when he got out of his car, nothing was there.
Much later, he woke up in his car, his head pounding, and his clothes were missing, with the exception of his skivvies and socks. It freaked him out really bad. “Sorry dude. I was just messing around,” Colton said, stepping away awkwardly.
“Right,” Kingston said finally, readjusting his shirt as he watched Colton walk back over to Heather. She looked good. Kingston wondered what she was doing with Colton.
Moriah turned and looked up at Kingston. He was staring at Heather. Her heart sank. Heather looked great. Her long black hair tumbled down her back in heavy waves, nearly touching the waist of her overpriced designer jeans. She had on a pair of sweet black boots and a low-v neck t-shirt exposing most of her tits to the world. Her jacket was cool too…it was short, cropped at the waist. She oozed sophistication, reeking of wealth. Moriah looked down at her own outfit. It was completely generic compared to Heathers. She rolled her eyes and turned away before she vomited all over herself. Watching perfect Heather fling her perfect hair around, wearing her perfect clothes was making Moriah perfectly sick. Bitch.
“Hey Moriah,” Evie whispered in her ear, grabbing her shoulders.
Moriah jumped, turning quickly, holding her hand over her chest. “Shit Evie, you scared me.”
“Sure I did,” she said, knowing she wasn’t what was scaring Moriah. “What are you looking at?” she asked, raising her brow. Moriah was busted. Evie saw her gawking over at Kingston while he checked out Heather, her expression forlorn. It amazed Evie that she still felt inadequate near Heather. Money wasn’t everything, but Moriah was always insecure about that, especially since she had started seeing Kingston—it kind of pissed Evie off. Money didn’t make the person, and Moriah had a lot of shit going for her that money could never buy. Kingston was the lucky one, not the other way around. Moriah would never see it that way though—her mom messed with her mind way too much. She was really into money.
Evie glanced across the drive towards Colton. He looked perfect, as usual and was busy salivating all over Heather. She made a face. She bet his ass knew Heather’s name. She tried to pretend like she didn’t care. He could poke Heather with his thingy. But watching them laugh with one another made her stomach drop. Who was she kidding? She felt just as inadequate as Moriah—probably even a bit more. That was it she couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m getting a drink. You want one?” she asked,
turning towards Moriah.
“Yeah, thanks,” she said absently, still staring at Kingston.
“You wanna come with?” Evie asked, hoping she would.
“Nah, I’m good.”
“Okie dokie be back in a bit.” She gave Moriah one last glance then took off across the drive, purposely taking the long way to avoid passing Colton. The ground was already becoming heavily littered with red plastic cups. She cut across the front of the stage, dodging another cup, weaving through the crowd of people gathering there. The music was about to start. The Fantasy Defender was about to hit the stage. Evie loved their music too. It reminded her of Garbage with a heavier edge. The lead singer Dawn was awesome, totally cool. She was stoked to hear they agreed to stop by for a set. She looked around at all the people that were beginning to show, arriving in droves. There were at least a hundred people already idly standing around drinking. She knew there would be more the later it got and she didn’t envy them walking up the creepy drive in the dark.
REPULSED
SATURDAY * 8:13 PM
Evie walked around the corner of the mansion to use the bathroom and immediately regretted it. The ripe smell of urine stole her breath. Gasping for fresh air she lifted her shirt to cover her nose and stepped behind a line of girls curved around the side of the building, waiting. Most of the girls she recognized from the coffee house or campus. There were a few, though, that she had no idea about, especially the two Goth-looking girls in front of her. They were in the midst of a serious make-out session. It was a heated scene.
They kissed…caressed… bit…squeezed… moaned…and were really into what they were doing. She looked away, but glanced back off and on—it was kind-of hot to watch, in a weird way. One of the girls opened her eyes and looked right at her. She guessed she should have been embarrassed or even apologetic, but heck, they were the ones getting all-busy in the bathroom line. What else was she supposed to do? Stare at the ground? So instead, she shrugged her shoulders at the girl and smiled. The girl winked at her in return. She smiled back, in a nice way. Like thanks for the compliment but I’m not interested sort of way, even though she did feel flattered. The chick was hot, so obviously she thought Evie was pretty hot too. It helped to bolster her flattened ego.
Gargoyle: A Reawakening (Briarcliff Series, #2) Page 6
