by M. D. Archer
Dana’s eyes flicker, and I know she does.
“No, it’s good. I don’t want them to worry. I mean, any more than they do.”
“They know you’re staying with me. They’re happy to know you’re safe.” Dana takes another swig of water.
“Good. Once the Crawler is dealt with, once everything calms down, I’ll convince Mom and Dad that I’m not on drugs and then everything will go back to normal.”
THE NEXT DAY, it’s a little harder than usual to drag myself out of the house, but still I go.
My coffee-seeking excursion to my favorite café on Marshall Street is virtually the only time I leave the house and the best part of my day. Normally it’s a half hour round trip. I order, peruse the magazines as I wait, and then drink my coffee as I walk back the long way just so that I’m getting some fresh air.
But today, as I’m waiting for my large cappuccino with extra chocolate sprinkles, something different happens. For the first time since we broke up, I bump into Chris. It’s so good to see him. The warmth I feel for him is like a little ray of light in my gray heart.
“Hey, Tam.” His smile is uncertain.
“Chris, how are you?” I want to hug him, but it’s too soon. I study his face. I still care so much about him, regardless of everything. I hope he’s okay. I hope he has also realized we were never meant to be.
“I’m fine. School is… you know, but are you okay? You look kind of tired.”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Are you still going to class?” he asks.
“Ah, not really. It wasn’t right for me,” I say.
“Do you want to go for a walk, catch up? I’ll just grab a coffee to go.”
“Sure.” I nod.
I eye Chris as he gives his order to the barista. He looks like he’s lost a bit of weight—this happens when he’s stressed and overworked. I hope that he’s getting enough sleep, that he hasn’t been worrying about me, and that he’s still doing well in his course. He has always dreamed of being an architect, and I would hate for our breakup to be responsible for bad grades affecting his future. As he waits, I try searching his mind. I furrow my brow as I concentrate on him, and then, almost breaking a sweat, I’m able to pick up on just a couple of thoughts.
Drugs. Then, Nikolai.
And with that I realize this isn’t a coincidence. Mom sent Chris to find me, to find out what’s happening. To talk sense into me? I sigh. He turns, with his half smile that is so familiar.
“Shall we go?”
And even though I know he has ulterior motives, I nod.
We amble down Marshall Street and then turn down the street that leads to the base of the Hills. I can’t help but catch his scent as we stroll, and he smells so good, so familiar. What is wrong with me that I can’t make it work with a guy like Chris, who is so kind, and cool, and who loves me… still, despite everything.
“How’ve you been?” I say after a while. The silence isn’t awkward—easy silences earned after so long together—but I really want to know.
“Not bad.” He nods then takes a gulp of coffee. “Loving school, but there’s a lot of work, you know?” He turns his head slightly to glance at me, giving me a rueful smile as if his workload might have been the reason we broke up.
I gulp. I wish I could tell him. I wish things could go back to what they were like.
I sigh. “I’m sorry, Chris. You know, for—”
“It’s okay. You don’t have to… I get it.” Chris nods, stopping near the large sign that officially welcomes visitors to the Lakeview Hills.
A tourist bus rolls past us toward the parking lot entrance and a woman jogging with a stroller swerves to go around us and then carries on down the road. There’s no one else around except a woman, standing about fifty feet away, tall with dark hair and a kind of gothy vibe. I frown. She’s not holding a coffee, but I think she was behind us in the line at the coffee shop.
“What about you, Tam? How’s everything going?” Chris scratches at the lid of his takeaway cup, searching my eyes. “It’d be nice if we caught up once in a while, you know?”
“Um.”
Something is pulling at me. I shake my head, foggy from the amulet.
The tall, dark-haired woman is now walking toward us.
“Tamzin?”
Oh God.
When she is almost upon us, I know who she is.
The other Falcone sister.
I drop my coffee.
Chris turns, following my stricken gaze.
She’s the sister of the Rogue that Nikolai had taken out. She’s bigger than her sister, and anger doesn’t do justice to the fire in her eyes. In one awful image projected to me, even through my amulet haze, I know that her sister is dead and that the Consillium killed her.
She is here for revenge.
From somewhere behind me, a bird sings its spring song. To my right a car horn beeps. And right in front of me, a Rogue with revenge on her mind stands glowering. I take a step forward, but I’m slow, clumsy, moving as if I’m wading through water. She leaps at me, covering the final ten feet between us with incredible speed, and kicks me in the chest, knocking me to the ground. I cry out as I fall.
In the few seconds it takes me—all my reflexes, senses, and power turned down low—to get off the ground, she has grabbed Chris.
Time is suspended as she locks eyes with me and raises her hand to his head.
In one graceful motion, she snaps his neck.
Without a sound, his lifeless body crumples to the ground.
“Chris,” I scream.
Falcone stares at me, her lips pulled up in an ugly smile, eyes flashing. I bellow in pain and then, raising a shaky hand to my throat, I do what I should have done a week ago.
I rip off the amulet.
Crouched, panting, instant relief washes through my body, but it’s not enough. Falcone is advancing. She raises one booted foot and kicks me in the head, sending a flaming arrow of pain from my jaw to my temple as I fall face down on the ground. Another kick to my ribs and I hear them crack. She grabs me by the hair and yanks me upward, turning me to face her and closing one hand around my throat to lift me off the ground.
I gasp.
But not with pain. It’s not because I can’t breathe—it’s because finally, I can.
Strength, power, and fire flood back through my veins.
I pull my right hand back to crack her in the nose. She grunts, letting me go to raise her hands up to her face as I land squarely on the ground. Blood streams down my face, getting in my eyes and wetting my collar. Her face twists into a snarl and her hands clench as she readies herself to launch forward.
But it’s too late for her, because now I’m ready.
A growl rumbles deep in my throat as I leap forward, plunge my hand into her chest, and rip out her heart.
Chapter 30
Tears flow down my face, dripping off my chin onto the blanket.
When I look back at that moment, when I decided to go with Chris because it felt so good, so familiar, so safe and warm to be with him, I wonder if that was it. If that was the moment. If I had said no, if I had refused to indulge my mother, resisted the nostalgia, would it have changed what happened? Would it all be different?
Would Chris be alive right now?
I curl up into a ball. I still can’t believe it. It must be a dream; it has to be. It can’t be real. Except the agony coursing through my body tells me it is.
“Tam, I just can’t believe it.” Dana hugs me, and we stay like that, grief drifting back and forth between us, paradoxically generating both comfort and distress. We’ve been doing this, having the same conversation over and over again, for the past week, as if the repetition might change something.
“He didn’t deserve that, Dana.”
“No, he didn’t,” she agrees, her voice muffled. She pulls back. “I’m just glad I was nearby and heard you.”
She and Vincent had arrived on the scene pretty quickly, disposing
of Falcone’s body, but leaving Chris there. It looked like an accident, that he had fallen, tumbled down the hill, and snapped his neck. I had been paralyzed with shock, and I let them do it, but looking back, leaving Chris there, abandoned and alone, was the worst thing I have ever done.
“Tamzin, I, I’m so sorry.” Dana looks down, also blinking back tears. “But you know what? I’m glad you took off the amulet. It wasn’t right.”
“I agreed to wear it, Dana. They didn’t make me,” I remind her. “But I won’t be putting it back on,” I add, and I won’t, but I had worn the amulet once more since that day—to go to Chris’s funeral. I had to. I needed to be numb. It made me weak, sure, but it also deadened all my senses, my emotions. Standing there, in the cemetery on that bleak day, I just couldn’t bear it. With the amulet on, I couldn’t feel the grief of his parents, his brothers, our friends. I couldn’t hear their suffering, and with the haze that accompanied the amulet, I could swath my gaping wounds in cotton wool. I watched their faces, drawn with grief, mirroring my own, passing by me in a gray succession of pain, and the only way I could bear it was with that silver chain around my neck.
Piper had been there, as had Mom and Dad, my fights with all of them forgotten for the moment. Piper had given me a huge hug, unable to manage any actual words, but words weren’t necessary. Everyone was thinking the same thing. How fleeting life can be, how precious it is, and how we all take each other for granted. I had clutched at them like life rafts.
But now that the funeral is over, we’re back to where we were before. The day after, I’d gone to see Mom and Dad, thinking that this tragedy might mend the rift, but there, standing in the kitchen, all I had felt was anger. If Mom had been more reasonable with me, if she hadn’t been such a tyrant, maybe I wouldn’t have felt so alone, like the Consillium was all I had. And she was the one who sent Chris to talk to me. If she hadn’t interfered in my life, like she always does, Chris would still be alive. So I had stood in there, unable to speak, shaking with anger, until I turned and walked away, nearly breaking the door off its hinges as I slammed it shut.
Now, all I can think about is the amulet.
It makes the pit of rage in my stomach glow. The rage feels better than the grief, but it’s dangerous.
It’s so dangerous.
I want to give in to it, but I can’t. I’ve been through this with Dana again and again. For now, I have to let the sadness in. I have to let it wash over me. It comes in waves, threatening to drown me, but then recedes at the last moment. I just have to let the tides of sadness follow their cycle and grab lungfuls of oxygen whenever I can.
Chapter 31
A few days after the funeral, I go for my first run in forever. I feel like a creaky old boat, but now that I’m not wearing the amulet, I’m desperate to get moving again.
I take my normal route along Lakeshore Drive, so when I bump into Nikolai, it’s not a surprise, but did I want to see him or him me?
“You’re not wearing it anymore.”
“Observant.”
“Tamzin—”
“You know what happened.” I didn’t speak to him at the funeral, but he was there. Nikolai, Vincent, and Ruby had all been there, hanging back, keeping out of the spotlight.
Nikolai takes a breath. “Yes, and I’m sorry, Tamzin. I’m sorry that happened.” He steps toward me, reaching out his hand. When I don’t take it, he lets it fall.
“But?” I prompt. His face contorts as he tries to find the right words, and I let him struggle, knowing what he’s about to say.
“But… you’re not supposed to retaliate. That’s our job.”
His eyes implore me to see his side of things, but all I can do is think about how he was one of the ones who had convinced me to put on the amulet in the first place.
“You ripped out her heart, Tamzin. The number one rule is to protect our community, and you ripped out someone’s heart in public.”
“If I hadn’t been wearing the amulet, it wouldn’t have happened like that. I would have been able to stop her.”
“I understand that. I know all too well what Rogues can do and how badly you might want to take revenge.” His voice trembles with emotion. “But you still can’t do that. And you don’t know what would have happened in a different situation. We can’t predict what Rogues will do.”
“Nikolai, I watched her. I watched her break Chris’s neck. Right in front of me, and I was too weak, too slow, too dull, to do anything.”
“It’s awful, I know.”
“I don’t think you do.”
“Trust me, Tamzin. I know.”
We stare at each other, eyes locked with intensity. I want him to convince me how he knows what I’m feeling right now, but more than that, I want to get out of here.
I turn and run.
How did I let the Consillium convince me to wear something that sucked the life out of me? Sure, they hadn’t known that Falcone would show up and take out Chris in a horrific act of vengeance, but still. Part of this was because they killed her sister. If they hadn’t done that, none of this would have happened. It makes me tremble with rage.
Back at Dana’s, a note on the door tells me she’s popped out and she’ll be back soon. I grab a quick shower and raid the fridge, suddenly ravenous, a week of barely eating finally catching up with me. Belly full of leftover pasta, I idle in the kitchen, fiddling with plates in the dishwasher and wiping down the bench, needing to do something with my hands. My phone beeps. It’s Ruby asking if I want to hang out. Yes. I type a quick reply and get changed. Half an hour later, she picks me up.
“Hey, Tam, how are you? Are you doing okay?” Her concerned eyes dart across my face.
“I’m okay, I guess. Still in shock.”
Ruby nods, then squeezes my arm. “Of course.”
We pull up outside The Public House and a wave of apprehension tinged with anger courses through me.
“Why here?”
“Why not?”
I don’t want to see Vincent, or anyone from the Consillium right now, but it doesn’t matter what I want, because when I get upstairs, it all makes sense. Rica is here, sitting at Vincent’s desk. This time he is flanked by both Vincent and Nikolai.
“Hello, Tamzin. I’m sorry about your friend,” Rica says, his tone and expression appropriately somber, but completely insincere.
I don’t respond, turning instead to Ruby. “I can’t believe you set me up.”
“Tam, we’re worried about you,” she pleads. “Please understand.”
“And you are part of this little intervention too?” I accuse Nikolai.
“I’m sorry, but this is important.”
“Indeed, Tamzin, we”—Rica spreads his hands to indicate the room, or maybe the whole community—“have been worried about your well-being. You seem upset.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry if my distress is bothering you. My boyfriend was killed. Of course I’m upset.”
He nods, but he’s placating me. “But we do still have to keep important matters in mind.”
“Like what?”
Rica turns to Ruby. “Thank you. You can leave. This is Consillium business.” He waves his hand, flicking his fingers towards the door. Ruby’s eyes widen but then she nods, backing out of the room. Great, now it’s just me and three intimidating guys.
“You agreed to wear the amulet, for everyone’s safety and well-being, but you took it off.” Rica looks pointedly at my bare neck.
“If you suggest that I wear the amulet again, I will—”
“Tamzin, easy,” Vincent interrupts at the same time as Nikolai mentally cautions me.
“Tamzin, please.”
I flick my eyes to Nikolai. He looks miserable, torn.
“Wearing the amulet didn’t stop a Rogue coming after me, did it?”
“You are, of course, aware that the Crawler has not claimed any victims since you have been wearing the amulet.”
An unpleasant roll of my stomach reminds me of this truth.
“Why haven’t you caught him yet, by the way? If anyone is threatening Lucan exposure, it’s the Crawler, but you, the mighty Consillium, haven’t made any progress.”
“We have made progress.”
“Really?” I say bitterly. “It doesn’t seem like it to me.”
“Let’s get back to what is important here now.”
“And what is that?” I say, knowing the answer.
“The amulet,” Rica says calmly.
“Tamzin, you have to understand that what happened with Falcone is a big deal,” Vincent says, his voice is soft, trying to calm the rising hostility. “We’re just worried that you are too volatile right now.”
“She killed Chris right in front of me. And the only reason she did that was because you killed her sister. Are you going to take some responsibility for that, at all?” I direct this at Rica.
“What you did is such a pure violation of Consillium rules, you are lucky you had Vincent pleading your case. Otherwise…”
“Otherwise what?” I narrow my eyes.
“Your punishment would have been immediate and final,” Rica says, his eyes flashing.
“Oh yeah?” I say, my eyes burning yellow as I lean forward on the desk. “I’d like to see you try.”
RICA CATCHES UP with me halfway down the stairs.
“I know about your extracurricular activities.”
I whirl around. “The Crawler was implicating me in his crimes. What was I supposed to do, just ignore it? I had to do something. I needed to find out…” I trail off as I realize I have given myself away.
Rica wasn’t referring to my Crawler-related Nancy Drew-ing.
“What have you been up to?” he hisses.
“Nothing, I just…” I falter.
“You know something about the Crawler?” Rica’s eyes are wide, disbelieving. “Your arrogance is incredible,” he breathes, stepping toward me.
I draw back. My arrogance?
Rica shakes his head as he advances toward me. “The Cursus bloodline have always been trouble. Always. A lineage full of troublemakers and dissenters. And worse. Some believe the Cursus bloodline is affiliated with evil influences. Of course, what would you expect with a name that means cursed. I know Tessa didn’t like to think so, and neither does Dana, but there is no denying it.” He pauses as his face twists into a sneer. “If you thought you were special, that your bloodline is better than the rest of us, I can tell you, it is not.” His face is inches from mine. “And here you are, the most recent installment, stirring up trouble. The deliberate flouting of the rules began almost immediately, did it not? And now I learn that you, what, were trying to find the Crawler?”
