by Kelley York
The words come in clips and pieces. Fractured. Broken. Just like me.
"La... Can you...me?"
There is no panic. No fear. I feel like I'm dying all over again, but I'm not afraid of it this time. I can't move save to open my eyes and stare up at the sky I fell from, and the scruffy face peering into mine. His voice sharpens, slowly but surely.
"Oh my God, you're awake. Don't move, I'm gonna call for help, you'll be okay."
Who is he kidding? If I were human, I'd be dead. My body is trying to heal. The gash in my throat, the dozens of broken bones from falling several stories to the alley below. I'm completely inside myself. Everything around me is surreal. I'm watching it all on a snowy television screen and trying to make sense of the pictures.
I need...
He squints down at me, bringing his face nearer to mine. "What is it? I can't hear you."
I try to speak. It comes out as a broken, strangled sound.
Need to heal.
His head drops close to my mouth. Takes everything I have to move. The pull of his pulse gives me the adrenaline push I need. My teeth bury into his throat. He chokes on a sound, confused, frightened.
Just a little. Just enough to let me heal. Need to find the others, need to get to my parents and make sure they're safe. Never should have come here alone. If they die, it will be all my fault.
Clarity returns to the world. Everything comes slowly into focus. I'm aware of my skin stitching together, bones realigning and mending. Soon, I can breathe again. And I'm aware of the man in my arms; I'm holding onto him so tightly his bones creak, my nails digging into his back.
He's dead.
I shove him away, choking on the blood still in my mouth. No idea if it's mine or his. Dizzy, I roll onto my hands and knees, reeling.
"No..."
CPR. I've learned how to do this. My hands brace against his chest for one beat, two, three. My lungs are still healing. I can hardly muster the breath to offer him. But it's useless. I know that, even though I keep trying, keep searching for some sign of a pulse or a heartbeat. He's lost too much blood.
I killed him.
All because he saw me lying here. All because he wanted to help.
My head drops to his chest. The tears are hot in my eyes, on my face, and my broken voice sobs over and over again.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."
A family, a job, friends. He had all these things. Just like Joel—I took them all away.
What was I thinking? What was I doing?
A search of his coat turns up a well-loved leather wallet. I shove it into my back pocket. What will I do with the information inside? I don't know. But I need to know who this is that died for me tonight.
There is so much blood on me. Some of it mine, some of it his, and I bet some of it is Joel's. I strip off my ruined jacket and use it to wipe as much of it off my face and arms as I can before wadding it up and tucking it under my arm. The shirt underneath is black; it'll hide some of the color.
I fumble for my phone. The outer casing is cracked from my fall and the screen is a mess of broken liquid crystal. Yet miraculously when I hit the keypad, I hear it beeping. That's two phones I've busted in a matter of weeks. This has to be bad luck. I need to call Cole and Oliver, or even Ruby, but I don't have their numbers memorized. And walking back to the hotel like this? Not a good idea.
Noah's cell is the only number I've committed to memory. There isn't time for me to dwell on whether or not he'll come for me. He's my only option unless I want to risk getting picked up for strolling down the city streets covered in blood.
I dial and hope for the best. He doesn't even have voicemail. No way for me to leave a message. He'll see an unfamiliar number calling. He might know it's me. He might ignore it. On the thirteenth ring, I give up and sink slowly to the ground, squeezing my eyes shut. Crying hurts. Breathing hurts. Existing is painful.
A moment later, my phone goes off. The ring is choppy and feeble, but it's definitely my ringtone. I'm breathless as I answer it. "Hello?"
Noah's voice is stiff and uncertain on the other line. "You called?"
His voice sends a fresh wave of tears to my eyes. "Noah...Joel's after my parents, he killed this girl and I just, I just..."
"Christ, what's wrong with your voice? Calm down. What happened?"
I touch a hand to my throat. The wound is closed, but there's a mangled strip of upraised flesh. My vocal chords are still healing. "Joel said he was going after Mom and Dad. Noah, please..."
Silence, while I inwardly plead. Help me, Noah. Just this once, and I'll never ask anything of you again.
"Where are you?"
"The corner of Main and Avalon." He can't come directly to where I am. He can't see the body and know what I've done, not yet. I can't stand to see the look on his face if he were to find out.
"I'm on my way."
He hangs up. I push myself to my feet. One of my ankles pops and grinds when I walk. It's stopped by the time I reach the corner of the street. Darkness hides my face from the few people that wander by, and twenty minutes later Noah's car pulls up. He pops open the passenger's side door and peers out at me.
I slide in beside him. His face, lit dimly by the dashboard lights, is worried no matter how hard he tries to mask it. "What the hell happened?"
Where do I begin? Telling him about Ruby might complicate things, but leaving her out of it would be admitting she might have been right. That I might think Noah is only using me to get to her.
"Drive," I tell him.
Once we've rounded the corner and are making our way from the corpse I left behind... "Ruby and I ran into Joel with some human girl he picked up. He was going to—he did kill her. I tried to stop him..."
Noah's arm brushes against mine as he shifts gears and he flinches back, glances at me, and cranks the heater up full-blast. "You know better." Despite his words, his tone is surprisingly gentle.
"I had to do something." I stare down at my hands. There's blood beneath my fingernails and my skin is pale. I'm still starving. For the briefest of seconds, my eyes train the line of Noah's throat where his pulse makes his skin jump the tiniest bit. I tear my gaze away, guilt gnawing at my insides and dulling the hunger.
"He could have killed you." Noah gives me a hard look before turning back to the road. "What happened to Ruby if she was with you?"
She's with the boys, I hope. "I sent her for help. I don't know..." where she went, if she made it, if maybe Alex, or Maverick himself, cut her off before she had the chance. But then, why bother with our parents if they had us both? They have to be doing it to lure Ruby out.
Noah grunts in reply, leaving unspoken words lingering in the air. Whatever he has to say, he's not about to let me know. Fine by me. I'd rather he focus on driving. I've lost so much time already being unconscious.
I can't let myself think that it's too late.
25. Friday – 6:53am
The entire ride I watch my phone, waiting and wishing one of the boys would call. There wasn't time to stop by the hotel and tell them. At least if I'm with Noah, I know I'll be safe.
Noah knows the way to my parents' house without having to ask for directions, and it dawns on me: of course he does. How many times did he drive there to see Ruby? How many times was I playing in the backyard or battling my way through a video game while he was just outside?
I slouch down in my seat, head lolling against the window and watching the familiar neighborhood pass us by. Nothing hurts anymore. I'm tired, groggy, but I'm not in pain. The weight of the wallet in my back pocket reminds me who I have to thank for that.
I've just about dropped off to sleep when Noah curses quietly and startles me awake. My eyes snap open and I straighten. There's no time for me to even ask, because I see what he sees: the sky ahead ablaze in angry red and orange.
My nails bite into the tops of my thighs. Not my house... Please, please, don't let it be my house...
Noah turns onto my street and draws
to a stop. I fling open the door and get out. Flashing lights of police cars and fire trucks and ambulances flood the road. Neighbors have clamored out of their beds and they line the sidewalks in their robes and slippers and nightgowns, watching open-mouthed as my house goes up in flames.
My house. My parents. Too late. All because of me.
I make a dash for the crowd. Noah grabs me, arms tight around my waist, and holds me back. "You can't let them see you!"
I shove at his arms frantically, sobbing until I can't breathe any more. Mom and the garden she spent years and years perfecting, the medical books she turned to any time one of us so much as caught a cold. Dad and his sleepy smiles, his absent-minded way of buying all the wrong things at the grocery store. Our dogs running laps around the coffee table and knocking over anything that wasn't nailed down.
The home Ruby and I grew up in. Watching part of the roof crumble in on itself while flames lick out from the broken windows, it's like watching someone die.
I don't realize how hard I'm screaming and crying until one of our neighbors overhears me and approaches. Middle-aged lady who spent most of her time on her front porch. Always waved to me when I walked home from school.
"Briar? Briar, is that you?"
Noah quickly pushes me back to the car and this time, I don't resist. He's right. They can't see me. I'm supposed to be...what? Dead? Missing? I climb inside before any more attention is drawn to us. Noah spins the car around and takes off. To where, I don't know. Can't catch my breath long enough to ask. Not while I can still see my burning childhood in the rear-view mirrors and reflected on the windshield.
Everything I've loved... The vampires have taken all of it. My sister, my parents, my home, my pets, my friends. My entire life. Gone.
I cry until I can't cry anymore. Until everything stops feeling real, and all I can do is sit there, staring out the window at the rest of the world. A world oblivious to the monsters that lurk among them, ready to strip away all the color in their lives. And it leaves me numb all over.
Noah drives until we reach the park Oliver first took me to feed. I wish he had chosen a better place. But in the morning light, everything is still and silent and I guess it's better than going straight back to the hotel. I will have a hundred questions to answer when I get there. I'm not sure that I can.
He puts the car into park and leans back, studying me. Finally taking in my appearance. I swallow thickly. "Getting blood on everything. Sorry."
"Not like I haven't done the same." He reaches out, something so hesitant and lost in his touch as he brushes some of the hair from my face. "I'm sorry. I—I should have..."
"Don't." No apologies, not from him. There are a lot of things he should have done. There are twice as many things I should've done. Starting with not following Joel into that building. What was I hoping to accomplish? Did I think I could waltz in there, make my demands, and Joel would submit peacefully? My stupid choices have killed my family.
And they've killed any chances I might have had to prove to Noah I'm not a monster. If I were to tell him right now what I did tonight, would he kill me? Would it be enough to convince him I'm not me anymore?
I feel his fingers on my neck, tracing the fading scar where the axe got me. His fingers are so warm to the touch, scalding my icy skin. All I want is to curl into his warmth and hide away there and pretend all of tonight never happened. My phone gives its pitiful attempt at a ring just as I think I might be able to get away with reaching for him and he pulls back.
The only other people who have this number are Ruby and the boys. I stare down at it for ten seconds of weak bleating before Noah plucks it out of my hands.
"Hello?" Better him than me, I guess. He makes a slight face. "Yeah, she's here—yes, she's safe. I didn't touch her." Eyeroll. "I'll bring her home and you can ask her yourself." Without waiting for an answer, he hangs up.
"Who was it?"
"Your friend. The bitchy one. You need a new phone; said he's been calling for the last hour."
Oliver. Even if it had been ringing, I doubt I would have heard it over all the commotion and my own hysterical sobbing. I nod solemnly and look away. At least they know I'm safe; they don't have to freak out about my disappearance.
He offers me back the phone. "Feel like telling me what you're thinking about?"
That I killed a man and my parents might be dead. I let out a heavy breath. "I should never have chased after him." Regret. That's the only emotion breaking through the shock.
Noah lets a hand run around the rim of the steering wheel before dropping it to his lap. "There's no point in dwelling on it now. Should have, would have, whatever. You did what you thought was right, Briar. You were trying to help."
Trying to help, yeah. "How can it possibly be that easy? ‘Tried my best, failed, oh well.' My decision caused my parents to die."
"You don't know that."
"I do!"
"Have you been with your parents, Briar?" He twists in his seat. His face is only a few inches from mine and I want to recoil before he somehow realizes the blood on me isn't just mine. "Because it would have been just as easy for Joel to show up whether he ran into you or not."
"But why—"
"He's trying to smoke out Ruby." Not accusing, simply stating fact in such a way that I know he's absolutely right. "They're doing this to get her. Which means as soon as they realize you're alive, they'll probably target you again. I really doubt you running into him tonight was some kind of coincidence."
"They set me up?"
"That's my guess."
My face grows hot with a mixture of anger and embarrassment that I could have fallen for something like that. Terrific.
"Look..." Noah starts to reach for my hand, stops himself, laces his fingers in his lap instead. "I really don't want to get your hopes up, but we don't know if your parents are even dead. Didn't you say they were out of town?"
I swallow hard, trying to clear the lump in my throat. "Yeah."
"And you don't know when they were due back?"
"No."
"So for all we know, they're still at a hotel somewhere. Maybe on their way back if the police have called to tell them about the house."
He's right; I shouldn't get my hopes up. Why would they bother burning an empty house? Just to freak me and Ruby out? To lure our parents back into town so they could be used as pawns? This entire thing sucks. Stupid or not, that little bit of hope he just gave me is the only thing I have to cling to right now.
Noah takes my silence to mean he can bring the car back to life and throw it into reverse to head out of the park. Taking me home, I guess. I'm not looking forward to telling the boys what I did tonight; Oliver's going to throw a fit.
I have to tell them about the guy I killed. God, I wish I could tell Noah to get it off my conscience; keeping secrets from him when he rushed to my side tonight just feels so wrong. But just like all those nights I wanted to say I love you and could never get the words past my constricted throat...I'm too terrified of his reaction.
Back at the hotel, he swings around to the front curb to drop me off. Not coming in, I guess, which is good. Noah waits. Patient. Waiting for me to either say something or get out. Guilt is a heavy lump in my chest, the dryness in my throat.
"Thank you. For...you know. For coming to get me tonight."
He nods solemnly. "I'll go investigate your parents' house once everything's clear and let you know what I find. If you want to brave it, try giving their cell a call."
"Won't be calling anyone for awhile." I stare down at my busted phone. I didn't have any numbers programed into it, aside from the boys', anyway. Everything else is still on my old phone, the one the river tore to pieces. "What do you think I should do while you're playing detective?"
He squints. "You shouldn't do anything. Ruby should confront them before someone else gets hurt because of her. Maybe they can talk it out."
I grin feebly. "I don't think there's anything to talk out. She
killed Maverick's brother."
"I believe it."
Figured he would. No point in trying to get him to believe it was an accident. "She's my sister. I'm already involved. I can't just sit back and let all this happen without helping."
"I wish you would." He sighs.
"This whole being useless thing really isn't working for me, Noah. I want—I need—to be able to help. If everyone around me can fight, then I want to, too." I'm not going to sit this one out. Even if I make stupid choices... I have to make some choice rather than hide in the corner and let everyone protect me.
He searches my gaze, like he expects to find some miraculous answer to all of this in my eyes. Finally, he faces straight ahead again, mouth drawn. "Open the glove box."
I do as I'm told. A push of a button pops open the compartment, revealing some maps, travel documents...and a gun. It looks like the one we trained with at the firing range a few months ago. For all I know, it could be the same one.
"Take it," Noah says. "Hope you remember how to use it."
So do I. He watches me scoop it up, checking the safety, trying to refamiliarize myself with it. "Why...?"
"Because if you're going to be running around getting yourself into trouble, you should at least have some means of protecting yourself." He shrugs. "A bullet to the brain might not kill a vampire, but it'll put them out of commission for awhile."
I remember Noah shooting Alex, point-blank to the back of her skull. The next time I saw her, she looked completely unscathed. The idea makes me shiver. I make sure the safety is on, slip the gun into the front of my pants, and tug my shirt down to cover it. There's a box of ammo I shove into my rolled-up jacket. "You're being awfully helpful to the girl you wanted to kill."
"I have my reasons."
I get out of the car, leaning down to peer at him through the open door. "Like what?" Questioning his kindness is really not something I should do. I can't think what Ruby said might be right. Noah has to know me well enough that if he played his cards right, lied to me the right way, I would take him right to my sister. The fact that he hasn't tells me something, I just don't know what.
