"No," I repeated. "What's going on?"
"Do you know Sandra Smith?" His green eyes searched mine.
"Yes. She's my best friend. She's visiting her parents up north. Why are you looking for her?"
"What's your name?" he asked, ignoring my questions.
"Jade Greene. What's going on?"
"Miss Greene, would you mind coming with us? There's been an attack tonight and we believe it may have been Sandra Smith. We need someone to identify the body."
I felt the world fall from under me and I got a sick feeling of elation, like on a roller coaster after the drop, when your stomach and guts are still at the bottom.
“Let me get my shoes.”
chapter 20
The mop of blonde hair, the sprinkle of freckles across her nose, her perfect, heart-shaped mouth, which were all intact, were undeniably Sandra’s. Her torso was covered by a tarp, but I knew there would be a gaping hole where most of it should be. Her hands were crossed over her chest, and on the left was the engagement ring that looked so much like a beach ball floating on the waves. Somehow, the ring was the worst part.
I backed away from the table and crashed into an officer who put his hands on my shoulders to steady me.
It didn’t help.
I whirled around and lurched forward when my knees gave out. Without warning, the contents of my stomach came up. To my left someone held a pink plastic tub and placed it on the ground in front of my face without any sense of urgency.
I thankfully missed the officer and any other people, and they were already sprinkling some kind of powder for the mess on the floor.
“It’s her,” I nodded, not willing to look at the table again. “Oh god, it’s her.”
They asked questions that I couldn’t understand. I just kept seeing Sandra’s face, only a shade paler than normal, eyes closed like she was sleeping. The smell was the only thing that gave her away. The smell wasn’t hers. It belonged to a corpse. It was the smell of the stinking vampire from the woods. It was the smell of the deer in the woods after it went cold. It wasn’t Sandra, not really. It couldn’t be her. She was with her parents in San Francisco. If I called her on the phone she would just say “Holy shit, Jade, I was sleeping, and you know I had a long drive. What’s up?”
A gentle hand guided me away to a small room where they put water and coffee on a little table and sat me on a small, rectangular couch.
When I was alone in the room, I felt alone in the world. Sandra was my best friend. I pushed a kid off of the jungle gym in second grade for making fun of her. She was crying and it made me so mad that I just butted him off with my shoulder. From that moment on we were best friends. When she was the pretty blonde cheerleader and I was the awkward bookworm in high school who spent half the year in another state, it seemed like we might grow apart, but even when she was crowned prom queen she saved most of her dances for me. Because of her I even got to dance with the captain of the football team, an honor that most of the prettier girls didn’t even get. Our first jobs were at the same little ice cream shop, and she was always there for me. Always.
And now she was gone.
Even when I told her my secret, she remained my friend. She was the only one I ever told about that. She was the only person I ever could tell. Other than Simon, she was the only one who knew.
Simon.
It couldn’t have been Simon. He wouldn’t have killed Sandra. Would he?
No, I know him. He could never have done something like that.
Did I really know him? I didn’t really know anyone, how could I claim to know him? Just because we’d run through the hills together and we’d shared a mind…
He was my pack. Could he have done something like that without me knowing, something that I wouldn’t have wanted as much as that?
I knew the answer. If I could rip into a deer’s belly like it was a soft dinner roll, a human belly would be nothing. I would never have considered myself capable of killing a deer before I’d done it. And when I did it was with no more regret or doubt than picking an orange. If it meant the risk of exposure, I might have done the same to a human.
I curled up on the little uncomfortable couch and reached out for Simon with my mind. I ignored the humming jewelry on my neck until it turned into burning. Then, just as I let go, I felt him.
He was waiting outside of Sandra’s house, looking for me. I wanted to go to him, find him and make him tell me the truth, but there were too many police officers with too many guns between me and the door.
When I ran out of tears, I fell asleep on the couch.
I woke up alone and curled myself into a tighter ball and tried to fall asleep again.
When that didn’t work, I got up.
My bones ached and my muscles were sore, like I’d aged thirty years in as many minutes. I made it all the way to the door before I could stand straight.
On the other side, Simon and Jessica both sat in chairs while a uniformed officer behind a desk talked to them. They nodded.
The trio looked up and stood when I pushed the door open. It was too late to turn back.
“Jade.”
Simon and Jessica both approached me with open arms and I fell into them, expecting that their love and warmth would be a comfort. Whether he was to blame or not, Simon was my pack, and I needed him. I owed him the chance to explain. And if he didn’t explain to my satisfaction, I owed him a hole in the belly to match Sandra’s.
I fell into their arms and the silver at my neck started to tingle. Simon pressed his head against mine and filled my head with his thoughts.
I know you think it was me, but it wasn’t. I don’t know why you would think that, but it wasn’t. It wasn’t me, Jade. You know that, right? It wasn’t-
The tingle from the silver turned into a hum and the hum to a burn. I stepped back. The kids at the occult shop didn’t say that any of the stones were a magical lie detector test, but the thought crossed my mind.
“We have a few more questions for you,” the officer said to me.
I sighed, too exhausted to argue.
“No, you don’t,” Jessica interrupted, green eyes rimmed with red blazing up at the officer. If looks could kill, he would have been under that tarp. “She needs some rest first. Sandra won’t be any deader after Jade gets some food and sleep.”
My little red headed friend grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the building with the cop’s mild protests fading behind us. Jessica and Simon huddled me into the car and we were back at Sandra’s house in a few minutes.
I almost started to retch before I reached the front door, but they held me up, one on each arm. At their touch, the silver at my throat hummed so loudly it was singing in my ears.
I pulled against them but Simon lifted me as easily as I could lift a loaf of bread. The humming stopped while he dragged me through the door and nearly threw me on the couch.
I fought back, filled with the sudden need to get away. I couldn’t be there anymore. I had to escape. I was so selfish. I had the supplies to make a pendant for Sandra, too, but I didn’t bother. I only thought of myself as being in danger. I neglected the people around me. I was so caught up in my own fears that I let my best friend die.
I lurched forward, ready to run and Jessica caught me, but she couldn’t hold me back alone. Simon was there, holding us both, locking us all together. I dissolved into tears and sank to the floor with them. The silver screamed with me as I cried out loud, venting my rage and sadness. It sang with me when a long, hoarse, horrible wail shook me. Simon and Jessica cried too, and I didn’t know whose tears I tasted when they ran down my face and over my lips. I shook and the silver thrummed and Simon and Jessica, the remains of my pack, shook with me.
chapter 21
Jessica and Beefcakes moved in with me, and when I lost the job at the theater for not showing up, Jessica started to help me find a new one.
Two weeks after Sandra’s death, there was a knock on the door.
I open
ed it without hesitation, and found myself face to face with a short blonde man. He looked just like Sandra’s father, but it wasn’t him.
"Hello?" I said when he didn't say anything.
He stared at me blankly, then shook his head. "Sorry, who are you?"
I was of a mind to have Beefcakes scare the little troll man away. The mastiff stood almost as tall as he did.
"I live here. Who are you?"
"I own this house," he replied, just as curtly. "So I'll ask again, who are you?"
"Jade Greene. I lived here with the owner until she died. So who are you?"
"John Smith," he answered.
I gave a rude bark of a laugh before realizing that he was serious.
"I'm Sandra's uncle," he continued. "The loan and the house are under my name. Sandra was paying for it until her credit was good enough to take over in her own name."
My anger deflated.
"Come in," I said, stepping back to let him in. "I'm sorry. We've been a little on edge since… Since then."
He stepped inside just in time for Jessica to round the corner in tiny shorts and a sports bra. I watched his eyes flick over every feature of her and my anger started to build again. It wasn't that he was checking her out that bothered me. Everyone did it. But he was checking her out with tears in his eyes. Sandra's tears.
"Have a seat," I said coldly.
Jessica, sensing my dark mood, left the room quickly.
John Smith sat. His eyes scanned the room and he looked at me expectantly.
"What can I do for you, John Smith?" If he was expecting me to offer him a drink he was sorely mistaken. No one who looked lustily through Sandra's tears would get my hospitality. The most he would get from me would be cool civility.
"Well," he sighed. "I'm selling the house."
"Get out," I snarled.
"I'll need you and your friend to move out so I can start showing the house."
I growled. "Get. Out."
Beefcakes lumbered in and looked up at me, looking concerned with my distress.
"I can't afford to keep it," John Smith said as if it was an apology. As if that was an excuse to destroy what was Sandra's.
"Beefy," I said in a low voice barely above a whisper. "Bad man."
The massive dog lunged forward, snarling and baring his teeth. The little blonde man jumped out of his chair, toppled it over, and backed away. Beefcakes slowly moved forward, barking and snapping, driving the rude little man out. I wanted to do the same. I wanted to snap and snarl and show him that I could eat a man who pretended to love Sandra. White spittle started to fly from the dog's mouth.
John stumbled backward on his way out the door and skittered away as fast as his little legs could carry him. It was almost comical, but instead of smiling I slammed a fist against the table. Then I slammed the other, pounding it until I heard it crack and I put my head on the table between my bleeding hands.
I saw her face all over again, as peaceful as if she was asleep. I smelled her death all over again. I felt the loss of her as sharply as I felt it the day I was dragged to identify her body. Beefcakes trotted back and put his head on my lap. It didn’t look comfortable for him to stoop so low, but the warm smell of him under my face was comforting.
Jessica timidly peeked around the doorway. "Are you okay?"
I tried to take a deep breath but when I let it out, my hand fell to the table with a loud crack. Beefcakes backed away.
"No," I wailed. "They want to sell the house. They want to take every last piece of her away from me!"
Jessica looked startled, like a green-eyed deer caught in headlights.
"I'm going to go for a run," I declared. I vaguely heard her offer to come along as the door slammed behind me.
Simon is the only one left who knows, I thought, feet rhythmically hitting the pavement. He is the only one who can know. Knowing killed Sandra, I won't let it hurt Jessica too. Simon is the only one.
Simon.
Weeks later, and I still wasn't sure if it was him or not. I didn't want to think that it was him but I couldn't keep living without knowing. I reached out with my mind, feeling for him. The stones and silver were calm. Once when I was walking with Jessica and Beefcakes searching for Simon the pendant had buzzed and burned, but it had remained mostly quiet since I'd given Jessica the coffin nail cross to protect her, even when I was reaching into his mind to see through his eyes.
I tried then, while I was walking. I still hadn't told him that I could do it and he hadn't told me if he could feel it.
I saw through his eyes. I could feel that I was in his head.
I saw nothing.
He's dead.
That couldn't be true. If he was dead there would have been nothing to touch. He must have been sleeping.
Not good enough.
I started to think into his head.
Where are you? I need to talk to someone. I need you.
His eyes opened. He turned his head left and right and I knew where he was. I could see the whole city, the whole sky and a big oak tree near a tiny stream. It was too far to run, so I went back for my car.
Jessica sat near the front door, throwing a ball lazily for Beefcake to fetch. She stood when she saw me.
"Jade? Did I do something to make you mad?"
Her eyes were red and her face was pink as if she'd been crying. She looked like such a little kid.
"No, Jess, I'm sorry. I just- this was her house, you know? Her house. And him saying that it was his and that he’s going to sell it out from under me… It just got to me. It's not you at all." I felt hot tears springing to my eyes as I explained. "Maybe if it was her dad or someone who really loved her…"
"Where are you going?" she asked when my hand went to the car door.
"I need to find Simon," I said. I felt guilty. She would take my leaving as evidence of my anger at her. I couldn’t lose her, too. Over the last two weeks, she was the only thing keeping me from completely self-destructing. "We should invite everyone over tonight. If we're going to lose Sandra and her house, we should do something nice first. She would want that, I think."
Jessica nodded. "What time?"
"Eight?"
“Sure.” She nodded again and went inside with Beefcakes behind her.
On the way to the spot where Simon had taken me on the night we met, I tried to remember how to get there after only visiting it once. A dozen little spots looked like they could have been the place, but they didn’t feel right.
When I saw the oak tree, I knew that it was the one. The persistent trickle of water splashed underfoot as I raced toward the clearing.
He wasn’t there. I looked up at the sky and it still felt so big from that spot. But now I felt so small, insignificant instead of free. Lost, instead of floating.
"Need a towel?" Simon asked, coming up the embankment. "I thought you'd show up. I got the strangest feeling about it."
I smiled and threw myself at him, nearly knocking him onto the dry grass. I didn't cry. I only said, "Show me how to change at will."
When the words spilled out of my mouth, we were both surprised. I realized that was why I hunted him down. I wanted to invite John Smith over, tell him to go away and never come back, and then change in front of him. I wanted to scare him away forever. And if that didn't work, I wanted to eat him.
He held both of my shoulders at arm’s length and looked into my eyes. "Why?"
"Because I asked you to.”
He cocked his head at me and then pulled me forward so that our heads butted, and he held them there. I felt him probing, searching for the answer and I pulled away until I realized that it would work both ways.
If he was the Beast, I would find out.
I jumped into his mind like a diver, with deep precision. Let him have my anger. I wanted the truth from him. Images, sounds, and smells passed by like they were physical things on the side of the road during a run. I caught flashes of his childhood, his "teen wolf" years, and a woman from befor
e me. I smelled cakes and sweets, peppermint and eucalyptus, death and sagebrush. There were kills, mostly animals, a couple of vampires, but no Sandra, no hunters. He didn't do it. He pushed me away and we both gasped like we were coming up for air.
"I don’t know if you can change at will," he said. "I can do it, but-."
"But you're a fancy purebred and I was just turned this way.”
"I don't know how I do it. It's like trying to explain how to move one eyebrow at a time. You figure it out and you do it. Or you don't. Why is this suddenly so important?"
I snorted. “John Smith.”
“I’m not good enough for you anymore, Pocahontas?”
I backed away, snarling. “John Smith is Sandra’s uncle. He wants to take her house away from me.”
“Why?”
My blood was at the boiling point. “Because it’s in his name!”
“So it’s his house?”
I pouted. “Yes.”
“And he wants it back?”
“Yes!” I wailed.
He was silent for a moment. “So where are you moving to?”
I glared at him. Suddenly it was all too much. I lost my human status. I lost my best friend. I was going to lose my house. All I wanted was someone to stroke my hair and lie to me and say that it was all going to be alright. That we would get the killer and we would get John Smith and we would get Sandra back and we would all live happily ever after. Happily ever after was supposed to exist.
I screamed, “I don’t know!”
I launched myself at him and we tumbled through the dead brush. Dried grass, seeds, oak leaves, and stickers clung to our clothes and pulled at my hair on the way down.
I landed on top and started swinging. I didn’t know if they would have been punches or scratches because they didn’t connect. I kept going, clawing at him in frustration and pain. I could tell that it was all he could do to keep up, but he did. Not a single blow landed.
I leapt backward and he jumped up, still fending off my blows. I had energy and strength that wasn’t human, and it only served to remind me how all of it had begun. It all came back to Simon. He was a monster and he made me a monster. I backed up to pounce again, and swung my hand back into a tree. The sapling cracked and white hot pain flashed before my eyes as the bones in my hand cracked with it, leaving it limp, useless, and broken. I screamed.
The Beast Page 17
