Twelve Shades of Midnight:

by Liliana Hart

  Right now with the faery tapping into her thoughts and making them real, she couldn’t afford to think any other way.

  She dug into her pocket for her phone and pulled out one of the nails. Her cheeks grew hot. A trill of fear stiffened her spine. She checked her other pocket and found the second nail.

  No cell phone. She must have dropped it in the lunchroom. And without a light, she could never find her way to the library. Without a way of communicating, she couldn’t call for help.

  She was just turning to go back and look for it when a forearm pressed against her throat and pulled her head back against a strong chest. A voice whispered in her ear. “If I’d known you were the key to finding Wells, I would have taken you months ago.”

  Rachel clawed at his arm and struggled to breathe.

  “Now we’re going to march on back to your boyfriend, and then I’ll kill you both. Sound good?” He pushed her down the hall, his hold on her throat firm.

  She had to do something to relieve the pressure on her throat, but the nail was in the way…

  The nail.

  She drove the spike into his arm with all her strength, sticking it into the muscle.

  “Ahh!” He sprang back, releasing her, sending the nail flying.

  She bolted forward. Running down the hall, she veered for the first door she reached.

  Unlike the rest of the school, the gymnasium was lit with a dim glow from emergency lights placed around the cavernous space. To the right of the door, a row of four climbing ropes hung down from the ceiling. Straight ahead, bleachers extended from the wall. Rachel dashed straight ahead, slipping into the deep shadow underneath the stands before Bradley reached the door.

  She moved as quietly as she could, climbing between braces. She was about a third of the way in when the sound of feet started pounding overhead. Not Bradley’s feet, but dozens of them, mixed with voices and the smack of a basketball dribbled on wood floor. Laughter came from behind her, and she recognized the voices of the clique of mean girls from her high school days. Rachel risked a glance back, but she could see nothing but darkness.

  Bradley had to be in the gym by now, but she couldn’t hear a thing. Not with the crowd noises in her head. He could be right above her and she wouldn’t know.

  She had to clear her mind.

  She tried the trick she’d used in the locker, searching for good memories of the few basketball games she attended, of gym class, of anything positive or quiet or empowering that had happened in a setting like this.

  She came up empty.

  Something dripped on her from above, adding to the stickiness of her already food-caked hair. She slipped on a pile of spilled popcorn, heard more jeers from the bullies following. The experience seemed so real that when she reached the end of the bleachers, she stared at the empty gym. No basketball game, no crowd, just a floor scattered with red rubber balls used for kickball.

  No, not kickball. Battle ball.

  Cued by her thoughts, one of the balls flew at her, thrown by unseen hands. She brought up her own hands to block it.

  Too late.

  The blow shuddered through her skull, and for a second, she thought she might lose her balance and go down.

  “Rachel, run! Back to the door! Get out of the gym!”

  “Nate?”

  Regaining her footing, she circled the corner of the bleachers and started back for the door. What was she thinking running in here? Gym was a nightmare on a good day.

  Stealing a quick glance over her shoulder, she spotted a hulking figure just twenty feet behind and closing fast, the low emergency lights shining off his head.

  “Bradley, stop!” Nate’s voice echoed off the walls. The sound of his feet thumped on the bleachers.

  Rachel caught a glimpse of him, gun in hand, just as a ball hit her in the shoulder and a third struck her in the jaw, snapping her neck back.

  She went down to her knees this time, Bradley catching her from behind, his fingers grasping at her jacket and the back of her jeans. She could feel the trident slip from her waistband and clatter to the floor.

  No.

  Without the weapon, she couldn’t stop the faery, couldn’t get Josh back. She had to recover the trident.

  Just feet from the wall and door, she spun around.

  Bradley straightened from a crouch, looming over her, taller, stronger, the trident clutched in one fist.

  “Drop it, Bradley.” Nate yelled. Behind Bradley, and standing near the bottom of the bleachers, he held the pistol in both hands.

  A smile curved Bradley’s lips. “He won’t shoot me, you know. Not when he might hit you.” He lunged at her, capturing her arm in a beefy fist.

  She scrambled backward, frantic to get away from him, desperate to—

  Something encircled her ankles, binding her feet, too fast for her to break away. She looked down. Even in the dim light, she could see that one of the four gym ropes was tangled around her legs. She tried to shift her feet. She grabbed the trident and tried to wrestle it from Bradley’s grip.

  Suddenly Bradley released her and jolted back, ripping the trident out of her grasp. “What the hell?”

  She tried to move, to run, but two more ropes were on her, wrapping a wrist, capturing an arm, lifting her off her feet. And then the final rope snaked around her neck, its thick, rasping plaits choking off her scream.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Nate couldn’t believe his eyes. In all his dealings with the faery, it had always attacked the senses, weaving memories into horrific hallucinations, but he’d never been able to see the hallucinations of others. Yet this time, for a flash of a second when Rachel was trying to take the trident from Bradley, Nate could see the ropes slithering like snakes, wrapping her in their coils.

  Bradley turned around to stare at him. “Did you see snakes?”

  “Give me the trident, Bradley.”

  The agent pulled the silk bag off and gripped the weapon like a baseball bat. “Not a chance.”

  “No… for Josh…” Rachel choked out, the words deteriorating to a gurgle.

  It wasn’t going to end this way. Nate wouldn’t let it. He squeezed the trigger. The gun fired, the report echoing through the gymnasium.

  Bradley didn’t move.

  Nate fired again. He wasn’t that far away. He had to have hit his former boss.

  Bradley laughed. “This thing repels bullets? Amazing.”

  The grimoire’s incantation flashed through Nate’s mind. Illuminate and shield its wielder. That must be what the trident was doing. Showing what the wielder saw, shielding from threats, even bullets.

  Nate shoved the useless pistol into his waistband. He had to think of something else.

  He stepped toward Rachel. To his eye, she now seemed to be tangling herself in the ropes, twining them around her arms, her neck, choking herself. But when Bradley touched her while holding the trident, Nate had been able to see what she was going through, the ropes attacking like snakes. It was an image burned into his memory.

  He had to wonder if that image was burned into Bradley’s memory as well.

  Nate had no idea if the faery heard him or even cared, but it was worth a shot. “I thought the fay were supposed to be smart, able to sense things, know things that humans can’t. Yet you go after Rachel who has nothing to do with what was done to you. And the man who ordered it all? You let him just stand there untouched by the snakes.”

  “The snakes?” Bradley echoed.

  One of the ropes loosened from Rachel’s arm.

  Bradley took a step back. “What the hell are you doing, Wells?”

  “Agent Bradley wanted to sell you to the highest bidder. Yet you can’t sense that? Instead you go after a woman and child who never hurt you? Who never even knew you existed? Why don’t you use your snakes on Bradley. Order them to strike. To exact your vengeance.”

  The single rope uncoiled from Rachel and reached toward Bradley.

  The man dodged, striking out with the tri
dent and missing. “Shut up, Wells.”

  The rope released Rachel’s neck, leaving her coughing and gasping. Unfurling to the floor, it coiled, then struck at Bradley like a cobra, catching his ankle, wrapping tight. The first rope followed, going for an arm.

  Bradley slashed at it, driving it back, the one around his ankle still preventing an escape.

  The rope slithered off Rachel’s legs, leaving her hanging by the last rope, about a foot above the floor, as if she was climbing the thing in gym class.

  Nate walked down the last few steps of bleachers and advanced on Bradley. “Give me the trident.”

  “Go to hell.” Bradley hit one of the rope ends, and it recoiled as if touching flame.

  “Throw it on the ground. Now.”

  The ropes swiped at Bradley again, the knot on one hitting him upside the head, spinning him to the side.

  Nate charged.

  He hit the middle of the big man’s body, driving into him like a linebacker, legs pumping, feet moving, shoes squeaking on the gym floor. He found the trident, grabbed hold, and plowed Bradley straight into the tangle of ropes.

  Like a nest of vipers, they struck, twining around him, wrapping him head-to-toe.

  “Help! The faery’s snakes! They’re killing me!”

  His screams grew muffled, and Nate turned to Rachel, brandishing his prize.

  She was…

  Moving backwards, twisting, fighting, as if being grabbed by a dozen hands that Nate couldn’t see, painful memories he could not know.

  “Find Josh.”

  “I can get you—”

  “Bradley already used it. What if it doesn’t have enough power left?”

  “We’ll have to take that chance.”

  “You promised me. Josh. No matter what.” Her head jerked back, as if an invisible hand had grabbed a fist full of hair and was now pulling her toward the door.

  Nate moved forward, the trident ready. He had promised to protect Josh, given his word both to Rachel and to Steven’s memory the night he’d failed him. But there was one thing Nate hadn’t counted on.

  He wanted to tell her he loved her, but this wasn’t the time. The best way to show her was to save Josh. “I’ll find him, Rachel.”

  She grasped the door jamb, holding fast against whatever it was that was trying to pull her from the room.

  “I’ll find him. And then I’ll find you.”

  “Nate? Mr. Welks? Is that you?” a small voice asked from beneath the bleachers. “You don’t need to find me. I’m right here.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “Josh!” Rachel screamed his name. Holding tight to the door jamb with her left hand, she released her right and thrust it into her pocket, praying the last one was still there.

  Her fingers closed around the cold spike.

  “I have something for you, sweetie. Something you need to put in your pocket. Come on out.”

  He emerged from under one of the lower steps of the bleachers and rose to his feet.

  Her little boy.

  He was still wearing his favorite hoody. His hair was its usual tousled mess. And most of all, he was still smiling, as he did every day when he set out for school.

  Her eyes misted.

  She looked down at the nail, felt the weight in her fingers, and then tossed it to her beautiful son. “Keep it, honey. Keep it safe in your pocket.”

  Suddenly the hands were stronger, pulling her backward, wrapping around her throat.

  “Rachel,” Nate yelled. “You have the other one, don’t you?”

  She did her best to shake her head.

  “You have to have the other one. Without it…”

  Did he think she didn’t know?

  “It will be okay, mom,” Josh yelled. “I found him. Everything will be okay.”

  She struggled to keep her voice calm. “Nate will take care of you, honey. He’ll get you out.”

  “Not Nate.” Josh glanced at the bleachers, then back to Rachel. “I found Dad.”

  Rachel opened her mouth, but no words came.

  “Josh.” Nate said, stepping forward, holding the trident like a sword.

  “I needed him, and he came, Mom. Everything’s going to be okay, just like you said.”

  Her fingers slipped from the jamb, and then she was being dragged down the hall, faster and faster, and there wasn’t one thing she could do to stop it.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Nate passed Josh and raced for Rachel.

  The door swung closed, and he slammed into the bar with all his weight, all his strength.

  It didn’t budge.

  “She’ll be okay.”

  Nate turned to face Josh.

  “Who told you that? Your dad?”

  “Yeah.” Josh glanced at the bleachers, as if Steven was sitting there right now.

  Nate gripped the trident in his hands, no one to fight but a kid’s memories of his dad. He couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let Rachel be taken, couldn’t let Josh down, couldn’t fail Steven one more time.

  “Josh, I’m so sorry, for everything that’s happened.”

  “It’s okay now.”

  “Your dad was a very smart man, Josh. Very brave. Sometimes he made mistakes, like all of us make mistakes, like I have made mistakes. But he always stepped up to do the right thing in the end. No matter what it cost him.”

  Nate hoped the faery was still listening. That it understood his apology was for it, although even if it did, Nate wasn’t sure anything he could say would matter, that anything could make up for what he and Steven had done to it.

  “Your dad was a good man, Josh.”

  Josh nodded, then looked back at the bleachers and smiled.

  Nate continued. “But your dad isn’t here.”

  “Yes, he is.” Josh pointed. “Right there.”

  “I don’t see anything. Only you see him, because he’s in your memory.”

  “No. He’s right there.”

  “He’s not, Josh. I’m sorry.”

  “Why can’t you see him?”

  “He’s not there. That’s not your dad.”

  “Yes, it is! Don’t you see? Don’t you believe me?”

  “I do, I just…” Nate looked down at the trident, then held it out to Josh. “Take this.”

  Josh gripped the handle, staring open-mouthed at the odd little fork. And as soon as he touched it, Steven appeared, sitting in the bleachers’ third row, as solid and real in his old Green Bay sweatshirt and smudged wire-rimmed glasses as he had been the last afternoon Nate had seen him alive.

  “You’re not Steven,” Nate said.

  “You see him now?” Josh said, beaming.

  His father gave him a smile, then focused on Nate. “Nothing truly dies, Nate. Life energy just changes forms. After the work we did together, you of all people should know that.”

  “You’re feeding off Josh’s memories.”

  “No, Josh needed me, and I’m here for him. Simple as that.”

  “What about Rachel? Does she need you?”

  “Yes.”

  Nate motioned to the door. “So that’s how you’re here for her? You let her nightmares drag her away?”

  “That’s her choice. But you, Nate, you need me, too.”

  Nate had thought he was prepared for anything the faery could throw at him, but this wrinkle was new. “What is that supposed to mean? That you’re keeping me here? That I’m your prisoner?”

  “The only one imprisoning you is yourself.”

  Nate shook his head. “You’ve lost me now.”

  “Guilt is a prison.” Steven rose from his perch, stepped down to the gym floor, and faced Nate eye-to-eye. “You say you’re sorry for mistakes you and I made, and I am too. But you never could have prevented my death. There was nothing you could have done.”

  Nate opened his mouth, then closed it without speaking.

  “Forgive yourself, Nate. Set yourself free.” Steven held out his hand.

  Nate stared at it a
long while. This man looked and sounded just like his friend, but it wasn’t Steven. Not in the way Nate knew him when he was alive.

  Still if those we love live on in our memories, then this had to be a version of him. Maybe it was part faery, Nate didn’t know, but a part of Steven was there too, the part that lived on in the memory of his son.

  “Thank you, Josh,” Nate said, then he took Steven’s offered hand and gave it a firm shake.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Hands dragged Rachel down the hall. Voices filled her head.

  Oh, I feel so sorry for you. Nate didn’t even do anything to save you.

  Yeah, it was like he didn’t care or anything, or at least not enough.

  Rachel shook her head, trying to shut out all those girls from the past, their words haunting her, mocking her, beating her down. Even when she graduated and realized those girls had never really mattered, the doubts wouldn’t stop. They carried on, drawing blood, and yet never causing an outward mark.

  And how about your son? He seemed to like your husband better. Need him more.

  Oh, bless your heart.

  If either of them really needed you, they would have done something, even if you told them not to.

  No one needs you. No one wants you. I guess that must mean you’re free, huh? That must feel good.

  They dragged her around the corner. They were moving fast now, Rachel no longer able to stop them, no longer even trying. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she recognized they were taking her back to the girl’s bathroom, that end stall, the toilet.

  And this time she wouldn’t come out.

  She leaned her head back, let the voices wash over her. Testimonies of her worthlessness. Seemingly innocent questions that exposed her deepest wounds. Kind comments that turned into one-upmanship before the speaker had to pause for a breath.

  She focused on the placards hanging from the ceiling, their messages taunting her.

  BE A BUDDY, NOT A BULLY.

  BELIEVE & ACHIEVE.

  SCHOOL: YOU GET OUT ONLY WHAT YOU PUT IN.

  She focused on the last one, a bitter taste flooding her mouth. Her school experience had been horrible. She’d been picked on. Humiliated. Hammered into the dirt. This faery had plenty of material to tap, plenty of ways to drive her out of her mind, to make her give up.