Dark Companion

by Marta Acosta

  “You’re better than this, Wilde. You can have a better life.” I went to get ice from the freezer, but the plastic trays were empty. I took a can of frozen juice and handed it to her. “For your cheek.”

  She opened her hand, letting the can roll off her fingers and drop to the floor. “I like my life. Not all of us want to be Hosea. There was only one of him and you’re not it, so get out!” Wilde pushed me toward the door. “Get the hell outa here!”

  I almost tripped on the steps as I heard the door slam shut behind me. I stumbled into the night, looking for a place to hide.

  I ducked into the carport, finding the deepest shadows behind a minivan on blocks, and pressed back against the rough wall. I slid down the wall and wrapped my arms around my knees. The misery was all too much to bear.

  I could still hear the slap, as brief and forbidding as a thunderclap.

  I turned my face to my hunched-up shoulder, and Wilde’s injured face suddenly became my mother’s face.

  My mother had been so much smaller than my hulking stepfather. She’d held her arms over her head to block his fists. There was blood on his hands, her face, and he was raging at her.

  Blood splattered onto the yellow floor that she kept bright and shiny.

  I crouched under the kitchen table, terrified and whimpering. I smelled whiskey and sweat and burned food.

  Scenes of my early years in foster care rushed at me: a filthy house with rats that scurried out at night, a man who said to call him “uncle” and tickled too much, a woman who locked me in my room while her boyfriends visited.

  I gasped, stunned that I’d finally remembered a few things. Could I have even more memories hiding within me? Could I remember who I’d once been?

  I thought of what Wilde had called me, fake, and how I’d come back here to be my real self. Well, this was my real self—frightened and confused and lashing out at my oldest friend.

  Suddenly I wanted to be in the grove and hear the wind and the trees whispering shush, shush, shush. I wanted the green to wash away the pain. I wanted to be with Lucky, who’d made all my senses come alive.

  And I realized that my real self was someone who’d rejected the violence, cruelty, and ignorance of Hellsdale. My real self was also someone who sat in chem lab, happy with a big book, formulas on chalkboards, and knowledge of how the world worked. And my real self was someone who didn’t give up even when she had to say, “I don’t understand. Can you explain it to me?” and hear others laughing at her.

  * * *

  I awoke at dawn when a car door slammed and someone drove out of the carport. I was stiff and shivering, smelling of exhaust fumes. I went upstairs to Wilde’s to get my things.

  She was sitting on the sofa and surfing through channels on the TV. Her dilated pupils showed only a narrow rim of gray iris, and a bruise marked her pale face. “Hey, Mousie! Whoa, you really freaked out. I should have warned you that I had a hitter coming.” She jittered a leg and cut out a line of white powder.

  “I’ll just get my stuff and then I’ll be out of here.” My bag was in the corner. I folded up a t-shirt and put it inside, aware that Wilde was watching me.

  “You were going to throw down for me, weren’t you?” she said seriously. “You’re a good friend, Mousie. I’m sorry for all that drama. I didn’t mean those things.”

  “I’m sorry, too, Wilde Thang. I try not to judge, but I worry about you.” I wished the apologies would make everything okay between us, but I knew things were more complicated than that. “You’re right. I am fake. I act nice to adults to get what I want.”

  “That’s not fake. That’s part of your school business.” Wilde wiped her nostrils. “Just like for my business, I act like whatever fantasy the client wants. It doesn’t mean I’m fake.”

  I dropped on the sofa beside her. “Wilde, you know what you said about me doing a runner and coming here?”

  She had to think awhile. “Oh, that. Yeah, you were a runner before I met you. What did the Baby Snatchers call you?” The Baby Snatchers was our nickname for Child Protective Services because they swooped in to take babies from dangerous situations.

  “They used to call me incorrigible. It was stamped right on my file. Well, I guess now I’m corrigible. I’m not going to run from things anymore. I’m not going to bail on an opportunity like Birch Grove even if the people there are a little twisted. I’ll figure out the rules of their game, I’ll play to win, and I won’t give up who I am.”

  “Now that’s the Mousie Girl I know! What did you say their kink was?”

  Mr. Mason had said that the Family needed secrecy. “Nothing. They’re normal.” I reached out and put my hand on Wilde’s knobby knee. “I don’t want to leave you like this.”

  Her gray eyes wandered before focusing on mine. “It’s not like you can take me with you, is it? Be real—we never wanted the same things. I know what you think about Junior, but we’ve got something and he takes care of me.”

  “If he cared for you, he wouldn’t pimp you out and keep you using. Pain isn’t love.” Even as I spoke the words, I thought of Lucky cutting me … but he always asked permission and he had a biological need. “Maybe Junior calls it love, but that kind of love can get you killed.”

  “I know what I’m doing.” Wilde’s hand was shaky as she opened a bottle on the table and finished the last two inches of alcohol.

  “Thanks for letting me stay, Wilde. If there’s anything I can do … when you decide to leave this—and I know you will—I’ll do whatever you need to get out.”

  “Hey, I’m good. We can catch up later … when I’m straight and you’re settled. I’ll cut your hair for free.” Wilde smiled her gap-toothed smile, and in the next moment her dark eyelids closed and she slumped back against the sofa.

  I got her into bed and kissed the cheek that wasn’t bruised. She was snoring and her breathing was even. On her night table, I left a thank-you note with my address and phone number, the $70 she’d given me, and the folder with information about getting a GED and beauty school. I took a final look at my broken friend and walked out of her apartment.

  I was waiting at the bus stop with my sports bag when a silver Navigator slowed down. I stepped back, hoping there wouldn’t be trouble. The car parked a few yards up in front of a hydrant, and 2Slim stepped out. He wore a gray pinstriped suit with a pale lilac shirt and a dove-gray tie. “I thought that was you, Mousie Girl. Junior told me there was a commotion at your girl’s place last night.”

  I nodded. “Yes, sir. I mistook the situation. I didn’t mean to cause any problems. I apologize.”

  “Apology accepted. I’ll square things with Junior,” he said. “Where you going?”

  “Back to Birch Grove Academy. My break is over.”

  “No driver this time?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Why don’t you call someone for a ride?”

  “I don’t have a phone.”

  “I got someone headed north can give you a ride most of the way.”

  “I’d appreciate that, sir.”

  “Ain’t no thing, Mousie.” He raised his hand to signal to one of the men up on the corner. “But it’s for the best you don’t interfere with my affairs, because I can’t let that pass again, you get me?”

  My stomach constricted in fear. “Yes, sir.”

  “I used to see you with that boy—what was his name?—Rev, walking to school.”

  “Hosea was his given name. They called him Rev for Reverend.”

  “That’s the one. Me and my baby sister, Evie, used to walk to school like that, steering clear of any mess.” He stared off, but I could tell that he was using his peripheral vision to keep tabs on the street. “Baby girl got in the way of a drive-by when she was only ten.” Now he turned to me.

  “I’m sorry, sir.”

  “I made a decision then and I got no regrets, but I’m mindful that things could have gone different.” He flipped his key chain in his hand. “No one here heard a squeak from you,
Mousie, until that boy got sick. Then one night you started screaming bloody murder at that Prichard woman. I was standing across the way when the ambulance came and you climbed right in with Rev. They peeled you off and you threw yourself back in.”

  I’d gripped Hosea’s hand, burning with fever, as they put him on a gurney. Hosea had opened his eyes one last time and found me in the chaos. He’d said, “Don’t be afraid, Little Sis. I believe. You got to believe.” Those were the last words he ever spoke.

  I told 2Slim, “Mrs. Prichard said it was the flu and she wouldn’t get him to the ER. I had to grab the phone from her and call myself.”

  “Same as yesterday. Here you are a scary-eyed little mouse, but you step up when your friends need you. That’s loyalty. If you’da been a boy, I would have recruited you then and there.”

  A blue Acura rolled to the curb and 2Slim told the driver, “Take her near Greenwood and give her a burner.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Blake.”

  “Only use the phone in an emergency, Mousie. I didn’t keep your scrawny ass from being kicked every day at school so’s you can start trouble for me now.”

  I’d thought I escaped beatings because no one noticed me, but the moment 2Slim said he’d protected me I knew it was true.

  His genial expression vanished for a moment. “They say I’m sentimental. That just means if you even think to cross me, I’ll leave flowers on your grave.”

  “You’re doing all this because I remind you of your sister?”

  He laughed his gunfire laugh. “Hell, Mousie, you remind me of me.”

  I was still staring, amazed, at 2Slim as I got in the car. He shut the door, and the guy at the wheel hit the gas.

  The driver chewed gum as he sped on the freeways north. He dropped me off at the edge of town.

  “Thanks for the ride.”

  “No problem.” He pulled a cheap phone from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. The driver gunned the engine and was off the second I closed the car door.

  My heart was full when I saw the lush green hills draped in fog. I caught the shuttle uphill and gazed out the window at the trees, the lawns, the greenness of the town.

  When I opened the door to the cottage, the red light of the answering machine was blinking. I dropped my sports bag and then punched the play button.

  Mary Violet had left gossip about the movie night, and girls from my Latin study group wanted to review chapters. Then there was a dead air sound that telemarketers leave when they get a machine. I was about to hit delete when I heard “Oh, hey, Jane, it’s Lucky. I wanted to know if we could do tutoring Thursday. Say five. See you.”

  I didn’t care that Lucky had “a strangeness.” He was glorious and golden and he needed me.

  Ludovico went on to describe the great advantage which would accrue to the farmer and his family if the baron’s proposal were accepted. Not only, he said, would Teresa be a lady of the highest rank, and in possession of enormous wealth both in gold and jewels, but that the other members of her family would also be ennobled …

  William Gilbert, The Last Lords of Gardonal (1867)

  Chapter 25

  On Wednesday, I stayed in bed until past noon and then took a long hot shower, happy to have my own bathroom again. As I finished dressing, there was a knock at the door.

  When I opened it, Mrs. Radcliffe was standing there, neatly dressed in navy slacks and a pale blue shirt. Her eyes were shaded by a broad-brimmed linen hat, but I saw tension in her mouth. “Good afternoon, Jane. May I come in?”

  “Yes, of course.” I guessed what was coming but hadn’t expected it so soon.

  We both sat on the sofa, angled toward each other. “Mr. Mason told you what I saw.”

  “I hoped that we would have time to introduce you more gradually to our world.” She smoothed her pale hands over her slacks. “You were not chosen at random, Jane. You have great abilities, and you’ve proved yourself hardworking and honest. I wanted to bring another girl here from Helmsdale because Claire was quite dear to me and my family.”

  “Mr. Mason told me that.”

  “We failed her, Jane, but not for want of trying. She was suffering a type of post-partum depression and we were making efforts to get her into a recovery center. We have some excellent facilities both here and abroad.” Mrs. Radcliffe smiled sadly. “We’re all trying to cope, though poor Albert has had it the worst.”

  I became impatient. “But you’re here to talk about me, not Mrs. Mason. I’d like to know what exactly you expect of me along with … with my blood and loyalty.”

  “You put it so bluntly!” she said. “I’ll try to put our offer in context. In the past, our people were murdered by the superstitious and by those using that ignorance in order to steal our lands and property. We developed a system to help us survive and even thrive. We have friends, associates like those you saw at the ceremony, who protect our interests. We take care of them as well.

  “At a higher level are the Companions. Each Companion has a lifelong bond with an individual Family member.”

  She had been glancing away occasionally as she spoke, but now she clasped my hands and looked right into my face. “Jane, we are asking that you be Lucian’s Companion. If you say yes, we’ll take care of you for the rest of your life. You and my son would go to college together and graduate school. We would provide you with comfortable housing and a generous allowance.”

  Hearing it from her made it real and momentous. I drew in a breath. “Is that a … a proposal?”

  “No, our genetic anomaly makes traditional marriage with a Normal almost impossible. If our blood contaminates your blood, you could die. It’s one reason we are so cautious in our dealings with Normals. Companions usually marry another Normal and most have families who enjoy the benefits of the relationship.”

  I felt uncomfortable, but she seemed so absorbed that I couldn’t tug away.

  “Jane, you’ll have to make compromises, of course, but in exchange, we’ll offer you all of our resources to ensure that your life is as enriching and fulfilling as possible. In fact, we hope that you will want to work at one of our medical research facilities. You’d never have to worry about buying a house, or paying tuition, or medical bills.”

  I slowly removed my hands from hers and tried to sound calm when I felt anything but calm. There was still the chance that Lucky had only wanted to taste my blood but didn’t know what his parents had planned for us. “Does Lucky know you’ve chosen me?”

  “He’s very happy that you were chosen … although he certainly wasn’t supposed to take any action until you agreed to join the Family.”

  Family. I’d wanted a family so badly. “And what would my responsibilities be?”

  “Lucky will want to taste your blood now and then. Only a few milliliters at each feeding, which won’t endanger your health at all. You are not expected to do his chores or his schoolwork. If anyone gets suspicious, or if you feel that he needs our help, you’ll act to protect him and be a liaison to the Family.”

  “No one believes in supernatural monsters, or would hold a genetic anomaly against you,” I said.

  “Superstition is based on emotion, not fact, and even intelligent people are eager to destroy anything different. People fear the unknown.”

  “Is Jack…?”

  “Jacob’s normal. Well, he’s a Normal.” Her expression became softer and warmer. “We have a very low birthrate and I’d lost all hope of having children when he came into our lives. I am so grateful that he did and I love him as much as a mother can love a child.”

  “Claire Mason wanted a child.”

  “I should have told you that Claire was from Helmsdale, but her loss is still upsetting. She was my husband’s Companion and like an aunt to my boys. Poor Claire.” Mrs. Radcliffe sighed. “We have things in common, Jane. We’re careful, smart, decent.”

  “I would feel more comfortable about this if you’d told it all to me from the start.” I wanted to tilt the power of the negotia
tion to me. “What if my answer is no?”

  “No one’s ever declined the offer.” Mrs. Radcliffe stood. “However, in that case, we would certainly honor our agreement to provide you with a Birch Grove education, and we would seek another qualified candidate who is interested in my son’s well-being.”

  “The way I was asked here to take Bebe’s place.”

  “Bebe didn’t refuse the role, Jane. She left before we made the offer, although I believe she suspected that we were going to give her an exceptional opportunity. You can give me your answer tomorrow.”

  * * *

  I barely slept that night, and I was already dressed and staring out the front window at daybreak, when everything was sparkling with dew and birds flitted among the branches, singing out.

  I loved this place, but I had an odd feeling that I was missing something, like taking a test and skipping a critical step.

  So I did what I knew best: I organized information, trying to find any reason why I shouldn’t accept the Radcliffes’ offer. In a clean new notebook, I wrote down everything that had happened, everything I’d been told. I drew a chart of relationships and tried to construct a timeline of events.

  The missing factor was how Lucky felt about me.

  I knew how I felt about him. I wanted him. It was that simple: I wanted Lucian Radcliffe and my desire for him was so powerful that all the unknowns seemed insignificant by comparison.

  To my Birch Grove friends, he was merely a pretty boy, the headmistress’s son. They didn’t see anything more because they didn’t need anything else that Lucky offered. My friends took a family, home, comfort, and safety for granted. They took beauty and pleasure for granted.

  But I knew that these things were precious. Lucky offered something else, too. He was someone I thought I could love. And I would do everything I could to make sure he fell in love with me, too.

  I hid the notebook in the laundry room and went back to the living room window.