Curses, Fates & Soul Mates

by et al Kristie Cook

  A door slammed. “Mandy?”

  “Room.” I stood up. Scott came into view, and I whipped the ice ball at him. “Catch.”

  He skidded to a stop and shot up his arms. The ball landed in his open hand, then slid out, and he fumbled with it. Finally, he caught it.

  “Check it out.”

  He held the slick ball, looked at me, then to the ice. He poked at it like it was going to bite him. “How’d you do this?”

  “Practicing.” I fell onto my bed and glanced at the clock. Nearly eleven. “Am I packing?”

  He tossed the ball of ice into the air and caught it, then glanced around. “No.”

  I sat up and crossed my legs. “Really?”

  I must have heard him wrong. Staying? Really? I wasn’t sure how to feel about that. I didn’t want to leave Georgia or the idea of Zach, but the Coats had come. What if—

  “I thought about what you said.” He sagged onto my desk chair. “They expect us to move like we have every other time. And look what you did tonight with this.” He held up the ice ball. “You’re getting more control.”

  I sighed. No I wasn’t, well maybe a little, but I wasn’t convinced it’d be enough to protect him.

  “You are, Mandy.” He nodded. “Keep practicing.”

  “Scott. What do you do when you go take care of…the human ice sculptures?”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He shifted his attention to the floor.

  “But if we stay, you—I—it’ll happen again. They may expect us to leave, but they’ll stick around to be sure, right? Especially when these two guys don’t check in. Or whatever they do.”

  “I would expect so.” His voice was so quiet. Tense. I could tell he was worried.

  “It’s not fair for you to have to clean up after me.” In the deep, dark parts of my mind I didn’t want to think about, I had an idea what he did. If something’s frozen and it’s hit hard enough to shatter into a million pieces…

  “And it’s not fair for you to have to keep freezing people. Or keep running.”

  So staying might be dangerous, but so was running. And it looked like Scott was sick of the nomad lifestyle as well. Maybe he was right. I was getting stronger. Better at defending myself. I could protect him. Georgia, too.

  He sat up. “Something interesting happened tonight.”

  I hugged a pillow to my stomach. “What?”

  “Fire trucks were there when I showed up. Small fire sparked near some trees on the edge of a field of flowers.”

  “And they didn’t see the Coat sculptures?”

  He shook his head. “Those were further in. I had to wait around, that’s why it took me so long.”

  “Talk about dodging a bullet there.” I let out a long breath.

  “That was some pretty thick ice around them, too.” Scott smiled as if proud.

  Proud of me killing people. Man our world was jacked up.

  “Promise you’ll stay under the radar in town and at school. I want to see you graduate. We’ll take things on a day-by-day basis, okay? Eyes open. Very aware of everything around us at all times. And we’re packing up one bag each, ready for a quick getaway. Hopefully we won’t have to use them, but if we do I’m hoping it’s after you graduate.”

  “Why is my graduating so important to you? I’ve never understood that, Scott. What’s the big deal?”

  He let out a long breath and tossed the ice ball into the trashcan, then looked at the ceiling. “Mom and Dad would have wanted to see you graduate. We owe it to them.”

  I gulped through the knot forming in my throat. Mom and Dad. God, I wished they were here right now.

  “How was the date?”

  “Ugh.” Hopefully that was enough to let him know not to ask any more.

  “That good, huh?” He rested his elbows on his knees. “So, what’s the scoop with Zip?”

  “You mean Zach?”

  He nodded. “You’re home an hour before curfew.”

  “I could go back and stay out all night, if you’d rather me do that?”

  “Jeez, Mandy, can’t you talk to me like a normal human and not be such a jerk?”

  “Maybe if I were normal and human.”

  “You know I hate it when you say that. You. Are. Human.”

  “Oh. So, can you freeze things with your hands? Make ice baseballs? Bench press a motor home?”

  He stood and raised his arms in surrender. “I don’t have the answers to any of that.” He shoved his hands in his hair and left them resting on the top of his head.

  I flopped onto the softness of my bed and scrubbed my face. I didn’t know why I had these powers, how Mom got them, and the not knowing really pissed me off.

  Mom’s scream echoed in my ears.

  I hate what I am.

  The bed sank next to me, and I peeked. Scott sat close. His head hung low. He hugged his stomach like he was cold. Matter of fact, he shivered, too. I sprang to my feet. An electric-blue layer of frost covered both of my arms. Scott’s breath plumed in front of his mouth like little white clouds. Reminded me of Minnesota in the dead of winter.

  “Settle down, Mandy.”

  “Easy for you to say.” I leaned my head into the palms of my hands. They were covered with frost, but they didn’t feel cold to me. I closed my eyes and focused on regulating my breathing. “I have no idea how to control this stuff.”

  “Sure you do. You made a baseball earlier. And it’s already starting to warm up in here again.” He chuckled. “At least our air conditioning bill will be low in the summer. I hear they’re outrageous here in the desert.”

  “Ha, ha.” It’s all funny to him because he doesn’t have to worry about freezing anyone to death by accident. Hell, my time of the month could be lethal. For him especially.

  I walked to my dresser and dug out a hair tie from the top drawer. Maybe we should leave. What if I couldn’t fend the Coats off if they attack again?

  The memory of the day they’d turned me into a killer slammed into me.

  Two jerks towered over me, cloaked in white hospital garb. The chick had a bun on her head with her hair pulled back so tight, her amber eyes slanted. She clung to her precious clipboard like she would a lifejacket in the stormy ocean.

  “Where am I? Where’s Scott?”

  “Scott’s fine. It’s you we want to talk to.”

  “Talk, my ass.” I lurched against the metal restraints again. “You want to dissect me.”

  Knowing how to use my powers better would come in handy right about now so I could freeze these clamps.

  “There will be no dissecting, Mandy,” the tight hair chick said.

  “Tell that to my mom and dad.” Images of their bloody wrists and mangled bodies flashed before my eyes. “You and your damn white coats. You killed them.”

  White puffs of air billowed from the two scientists’ mouths.

  “Mandy.” The tall, balding guy reached for a little silver tray set beside me. “We just want to talk.”

  More needles.

  The restraints dug into my wrists as I thrashed again. “No. Let me go.” I screamed so loud, my throat went numb.

  The woman stepped away from me. The lens of her glasses crackled with frost. “Hurry, Landon, she’s losing control.”

  “Never had control, lady.”

  A dull thud drummed at the base of my neck. My fingers iced over. Glistening white frost solidified the chair I was pinned to. It streamed down the legs and over the puke-green carpet toward the two standing in front of me.

  The man stepped forward, needle primed and ready. I jerked my hand, snapping the restraints. The frost encasing the metal must have weakened it—or my strength was raging like the anger coursing through me.

  I gripped his wrist. Bones crunched beneath the pressure of my fingers. He opened his mouth, but only one last cloud of white air came out as the rest of his body went rigid.

  The scientist behind him screamed. I pointed my free hand in her direction, and ice encased her. Clipbo
ard and all. I ripped the metal clamps off my other arm, waist, and legs, then leapt to my feet. The wires connected to me tugged at my skin. I yanked them off and tossed them to the floor.

  I ran to the door and grabbed the handle but chanced one quick glance behind me. An inch of frost coated the small hotel room walls, and the two human ice sculptures glistened against the bathroom light spilling through the cracked door.

  I’d killed them. At fifteen years old, I was a killer.

  “Mandy?” Scott said. “Getting chilly in here again.”

  Scott’s voice permeated my memory, but I couldn’t grab a coherent word to say. I squatted to the floor and sat crossed legged, holding my stomach. The Coats had turned me into a monster. I’d killed again today. If we stayed I’d have to kill again.

  Oh hell, if we ran I’d have to kill again.

  So much death.

  If only Mom were here. She’d be able to show me how to do this. I just wanted to know why I could do this amazing stuff. Why could she? Was she a super-spy or something?

  Images of Mom’s dead body flashed in my mind, and my rage swelled. I kept my eyes shut, refusing to let any more tears fall. I wanted to be done crying.

  “Mandy. Stop.” Scott’s voice rattled.

  I was probably scaring him, but the memories blasted into my mind without my permission. I needed Mom here, but I’d let her down.

  I’d let her die.

  I rested my face in my hands and bawled. I bawled harder than I had in ages. Sick of moving. Sick of hiding my powers. Sick of everything.

  Two warm hands took hold of my shoulders. I knew it was Scott, but if I opened my eyes Mom’s continued absence would be that much more vivid. I’d rather imagine it was her giving me a hug. Telling me it would be all right.

  “Mandy,” Scott yelled, shaking me.

  Too late. My world went dark.

  CHAPTER 8

  “Mandy?” A voice called my name. It sounded muffled. Distant. I went to open my eyes, but my thick eyelids seemed fused together. After the third time trying, they finally budged. Oh, but they scratched as they fluttered. I rubbed them, and light broke through the fog.

  “Scott?” What I wouldn’t give for a pitcher of water, filled with ice. Even if I had to chill it myself. “Water.”

  “Mandy. Can you hear me?” Scott shook my shoulder.

  I swatted at him. “Yeah, yeah. Stop shaking me.”

  “Shit, Mandy. You scared me to death.”

  Everything fell into focus. I lay on my bed, and sunlight beamed through the open window. But I’d been on the floor before, and it was dark.

  “What time is it?”

  “Ten o’clock.”

  “Ten?”

  “On Saturday morning.” Scott’s hands framed my face, turning it toward him.

  His wide, bloodshot-eyes analyzed me like he had x-ray vision. Worry-lines etched his forehead.

  I coughed. “I need some water.”

  He picked up a glass from my nightstand. “Sit up.”

  I snatched the drink from him. Few things felt heavy to me, considering I could bench-press a trailer home, but the cup of water I held rivaled the weight of a semi-truck. With concerted effort, I brought the glass to my lips, and gulped until my stomach sloshed.

  “Feels like I ran fifty miles,” I said.

  Scott wrapped his arms around me and for a minute I thought maybe he’d inherited super strength.

  “Can’t. Breathe.”

  “Mandy, what happened?”

  “How the heck do I know? I just woke up.”

  Scott let me go. I took a gulp of air and sifted my fingers through my damp hair. What the heck? I racked my muddled brain for details about the previous night. I’d sat on the floor, pissed off about things, but then we’d started talking about Mom.

  “Oh. Yeah. Mom. I got really ticked. Relived when the Coats nabbed me in Arkansas. The last thing I remember is you touching my shoulders, which made me even more mad for some reason.”

  He petted my hair.

  “And now, here we are. Feel free to fill in the gaps.”

  “First, I need to sit down. I think I had three heart attacks last night.” He sagged onto the desk chair, clutching his chest.

  “Why is my hair wet? How’d I get in bed?” The door and windows were open, and a breeze busted through the room. The sun warmed my skin.

  “You were on the floor, balled up, freaking out. Mom seems to trigger it for you. Thank God we were here alone, because you went absolutely nuts.” He turned his head to the side while rubbing his neck. “At least your body did.”

  Strands of Scott’s shaggy, brown hair stood on end. Dark whiskers dusted his square jaw. A raccoon would be jealous of the circles around his crystal-blue eyes.

  “You frosted over, Mandy. Like your fingers do when you’re chilling things. It spread up your arms, over your clothes, your hair, everything. Like a thin cocoon of ice. It was amazing. Scary, but amazing.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “I tried to shake you awake. You flopped to the side, still covered in ice. Your lips were blue. I didn’t know what to do. It’s not like I could call 9-1-1.”

  I shook my head. Yeah, how would he explain that? It’d only lead to more needles, more testing, more misery.

  “I put you in your bed and watched over you. I—” He picked at his fingernails. “I couldn’t feel your pulse through the ice around you. I was—”

  Scott had only cried in front of me once, and that was at Mom and Dad’s funeral. Four years ago. Mostly since then I’d just made him mad. No tears there.

  Scott coughed and regarded me with moist eyes. “You stayed frozen for a few hours.” His nostrils flared. “Only started melting a couple of hours ago. I opened the windows and curtains to let the warm sun hit you. I didn’t know what to do.”

  “Who’s watching the store?”

  “I called Georgia.” He rested his elbows on his knees.

  I crept out of bed and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I’m sorry.” Then, I started bawling again. I was like a five-year-old. Crying, carrying on. What happened to me last night?

  He embraced me tight and joined in with his own set of tears. “I thought you were going to die. You’re all I have left, Mandy.” He hugged tighter. “You’re not making it easier on me with all the skipping school, getting in trouble. Can you help me out a little?”

  I nodded. Couldn’t talk too well while blubbering. I stepped away from him, and slid my hand over my cheeks, trying to plug the dam that had broken.

  “Oh, and you might want to do something about your hair.”

  “My hair?” Instinctively, I patted it down. Other than feeling damp, it was fine. I whirled around and stood in front of the wall mirror beside my door. A streak of neon blue cut through my drab, blond locks. “What the heck?”

  “It happened while you were frozen. I snuck out to grab some water, and when I came back, you had that.” He reached forward and touched it.

  I leaned in toward the mirror. “Oh, man. How the heck am I going to explain this?”

  “Can’t you use some hair dye?”

  “What a freaking pain in the butt.” I was more of a roll-out-of-bed-and-go-kinda gal. Not the dye-my-hair-and-primp-kinda gal. I combed at the blue strands with my fingers. Like that’d make it go away.

  A chill slithered down my spine. “Wait. Do I remember hearing you say we’re staying in Trifle? For real?”

  He smiled. “For now.” He pointed at me. “But stay alert. And stay off the radar.”

  I nodded. And I would, too. If it meant I got a taste of what normal might be like, I’d do almost anything.

  * * *

  “No way.” Georgia shrieked when she laid eyes on me.

  I ducked at the volume and glanced around the store. Everyone else in the smoothie shop stared as well. I scurried toward her. “Shhh.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Georgia handed the customer his change, then whirled to face me. “No freaking w
ay, Mandy. You did not do this without me.”

  I smiled and hitched my hip against the counter. “Like you’d dye your hair blue anyway.”

  “I know, but…Oh man, it looks so cool. When did you do it? We were just on Facetime last night. You didn’t have it then.”

  “After we hung up. I got a whim.” Or something like that. Scott shot me a knowing look through the prep-area window.

  I squatted and clicked open a cabinet. Beside the stock of napkins and straws, my emerald-colored apron lay in a crumpled heap.

  The front door chimed. I snatched my smoothie-making garb and popped up to see whom I’d be making a smoothie for.

  “Zach?” I seriously almost lost the cereal I’d scarfed down after my shower.

  Oh, he looked good in his cargo shorts and tight, white shirt. His flip-flops slapped against the tile floor as he moved to the counter. Someone else trailed in behind him. I couldn’t remember his name, though.

  I glanced at Georgia, and she grinned. One of those satisfied-with-herself grins, too.

  “What’d you do, girl?”

  “Nothing. What do you mean?” She leaned to the side. “What am I making you, Dan?”

  I edged to the side while Georgia talked with Dan. “What are you doing here, Zach?”

  “You didn’t think I’d just let you get away with bailing on me like that, did you?”

  I swallowed hard. I’d actually expected to be halfway to Mexico by now, never to return to Trifle. So his being here…kind of made things almost perfect.

  Had I not just woken up from a full-scale ice-episode.

  He leaned forward, palming the counter in front of him. His hair shifted onto his forehead, and he smiled. “We’re going out. Can you get away from here?”

  “No. I—wait, what?” Could I get more tongue-tied? “I can’t just leave. I need to—”

  “What’s your favorite smoothie?” he asked.

  “Strawberry-banana.”

  “Then that’s what I’ll have.”

  Dan stepped beside Zach and said, “Nice hair.”

  “Oh, yeah. The hair. What’d you do to it?” Zach brushed his fingers through the supernaturally died locks. A wave of his spicy fresh scent washed over me.

  “Messed around with it last night.”