by Melissa Marr
“Maybe it’s not a pattern,” I suggest. “Maybe it’s what they ‘mean’ to you . . . or something entirely different.”
We look at the notes again. There’s not a lot of information, but we do arrive at a few possible thoughts: the killer is trying to say something about love, fidelity, rebirth, and pride; the killer is tying this to juniors at our school, so has some connection to our class; and he—or she—is focusing on Eva. It’s nauseating that someone can be so twisted as to think that murder has anything to do with love. The fidelity part is a little more interesting considering what we now know about Robert’s lack of faithfulness.
“So did he kill Amy because Robert slept with her?” Eva wonders aloud. “It’s not her fault that he was dating me. If it’s about being faithful, shouldn’t Robert be a target?”
“Maybe?”
Eva and I exchange a look, and she says, “I need to see him then. I need to see how he dies.”
“Micki wasn’t unfaithful to anyone. Neither were you.”
“Nate doesn’t date, so that’s not it there either,” she muses.
After a few more minutes, we are forced to admit that these facts aren’t enough to figure out who the future victims are. There are around two hundred people in our grade, so if we look only at the girls, we have maybe a hundred or so potential victims. That’s a lot of people. If we narrow it down to people who are faithful or have pride issues, that’s . . . impossible to figure out.
“They might not all be girls if your visions are real, but they are all people you spend time with. That’s the only thing in common between the victims and me and Nate too. It seems pretty simple, but it’s all we have.”
“So I need to start looking at my friends’ deaths,” she says softly. “If I’m all that everyone has in common, we need to start looking at their deaths to see who the next victim is.”
We decide to start with the people most likely to visit her. Rather than text them all, she simply sends a message to Piper, who was to visit soon anyhow. “Bored and trapped in the house. Invite the usuals to come over for lunch.”
A few moments later, she reads Piper’s reply: “On it.”
I’m not sure who all will be around, but I suspect that Piper will just send a group message to some combination of their core group: Laurel, Jess, CeCe, Bailey, Madison, Robert, Reid, Grayson, Carter, and Jamie. To be sure, she sends another text to Robert.
Quietly, Eva tells me, “The idea of having most of them in the house with Nate makes me want to cringe, but I need to start looking for more clues.”
“You do know Nate slept with Jess . . . and possibly with Piper.”
“I know what he’s done the past two years, Grace,” she says. “It didn’t cure my crush when he was doing it, and it’s not curing it now.”
At the sound of a throat being cleared, Eva glances at her doorway. Nate stands in the hall awkwardly, hands shoved in his pockets and lips pressed together as if he’s disapproving of something—quite possibly the words he just overheard.
Eva tilts her head, her chin jutting out as if she’s about to challenge him. “Did you need something?”
He shakes his head. “I’m not going to even try to answer that one, Eva.”
He stays outside of her room, like there’s a line he can’t cross, and I have the overwhelming urge to yank him inside, run out, and close the door on them. He needs to get past whatever this is, but I’m not so heartless as to put Eva in that situation—at least not today.
“The social elite are stopping by,” I tell him.
“What?” He looks from Eva to me and back at her. “What did you do?”
“Texted Piper and Robert.” She folds her arms over her chest. “I’m investigating. All the victims are tied to me, so I’ll look and see if we can figure out who’s next.”
“You let her do this?” He glares at me.
“Check the attitude, Bouchet.” I stand and step between them. “Crazy killer is obsessing on her. What do you think she’s going to do? Sit around and wait for him to kill another girl?”
Nate folds his arms over his chest and says, “If the victims are all tied to you, don’t you think the killer might be too?”
“They’re my friends, Nate. They might be jerks sometimes, but no more so than you.”
He doesn’t look convinced, but I’m with Eva on this one. I don’t know what a killer is supposed to look like, but I’m having a hard time picturing anyone I know as a murderer. They’re potential victims, though, and I really hope that Eva can see deaths because I don’t want anyone else to die for real.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
DAY 14: “THE ADULTERER”
Judge
I KNOW HE’S THERE, close to her, touching her like she’s his. She’s not. She’s always been mine—and she always will be.
Her mother hired him, invited him into her home, and I am confused by it. I don’t understand why she picked him. Why didn’t Mrs. Tilling place an ad? Why didn’t she ask Eva’s friends? I could have been there every day. She’d see how life should be then. She’d understand my love for her, my need for her. I could touch the cuts on her skin, marks that no one else has put on her, like symbols of our connection. If I study them, I wonder what they’ll say. What messages are written on her skin for me to read?
The Lord is mysterious, and I don’t even begin to understand his ways. When the glass carved her face, I didn’t think to wipe away the blood to find the messages that the Lord might have left there. He carved the commandments in stone tablets. He spoke through a burning bush. Perhaps, Eva’s skin is the parchment on which he wrote our own private commandments.
I can’t let Nathaniel Bouchet taint her. I can’t let him see the messages the Lord has left for me on Eva’s skin. The more I think about him being alone with her, the angrier I become. I’d hoped that she’d be only mine by now, but she hasn’t come to me or called me. I was very clear. I sent her the flowers, the cicada, the words etched into Amy’s skin.
And that was all after I gave up Amy. I sacrificed her. I left so many clear messages for Eva, and yet . . . here I am without her. I don’t understand. I lower my head to my hands and listen for instructions. I feel like I am being further tested. I don’t know whether Eva is testing me or not. I don’t know what to do.
I flip through the pages of my photo albums. One of these girls will be the next choice. I study them, look at their faces as they were captured, and I wait for inspiration. I need this next message to be the one that makes Eva come to me.
Carefully, I touch each face, waiting to feel something, hoping for clarity. Beside me, on the dresser beside my bed, Eva watches from a picture frame my grandmother gave me. It’s one of those heavy Waterford crystal ones. She likes those. She told me that someday I could use it for my wedding picture, but for now, it holds a picture of my bride-to-be. I keep it in a drawer when I’m not home, but every day, I open the drawer, take the picture out from between the pairs of folded and pressed boxers, and position it so I can see Eva while I study. She inspires me. Sometimes, I confess to her when we are alone in the dark. I tell her the things I’ve done that shame me, and I know that in her own bed she is forgiving me. When she meets my eyes and smiles as she passes me in the halls of our school, I know she has forgiven me.
And I forgive her.
I forgive every time she lets someone else too near her; I forgive her weakness for not coming to me after the first time I knew she loved me too. I forgive everything. I always have.
Bouchet, though, is not something I can forgive. I saw her face when she offered herself to him at Piper’s party. Like a virgin to an altar, she walked up to him, and he cast her away. I thought it meant that he knew that she was not for him. Now, though, he stands at her side like a lover or a servant. He doesn’t have the right to be either one. I can accept Grace walking at
Eva’s side. She is no threat to me. She could even be a part of our new life. He cannot.
He’s trying to break the seventh commandment, and he is breaking the tenth. The Bible is clear that “Thou shalt not commit adultery” and “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s wife.” Eva might not be my wife in law, but in my soul she is. It is my duty and my right to protect her.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
DAY 14: “THE TESTING”
Eva
I LOOK AROUND THE room at the people who’ve come. Aside from Grace and Nate, Piper, Laurel, Jess, CeCe, Madison, and Bailey are all here. According to Piper, the guys—Robert, Reid, Grayson, and Jamie—are on their way. Carter can’t come. They’re my closest friends and classmates, people I’ve known since elementary school, and I’ve invited them here so I can see them die. If I had a better plan, I’d try it, but this is the only idea I have.
I still feel frightened and guilty for what I’m about to do.
“Piper?” I call her closer. I might as well start with the girl who’s been closest to me for the longest. Grace is my best friend, but Piper has been in my life as a confidante forever.
She smiles as she walks toward me. “What’s up?”
“I’m still a little unsteady. Can you help me up?”
I hold out my hand, and she reaches hers out automatically. Getting her to touch me is easy.
He’s straddling me. He grabs my arm and jerks it down, pinning it under his knee.
He stares at his own hand. “You tore my glove.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
He reaches out for something. I look at the gloved hand as it grabs a bright red bottle that’s rolled across the rug. In a moment, the bottle is at my lips.
“Here,” he says. “Take a sip.”
I stare up at him, but my mouth doesn’t open. I try to stare at his face, his clothes, to see anything that will help. His face is a blur.
“There’s blood in your mouth, Piper. I’m going to give you some water.” He opens the bottle with his teeth, biting it and tugging up. “Open your mouth.”
“Please, let me go. I’m sorry. I don’t want to die.”
He puts the bottle in my mouth. “Swallow.”
The water streams in so fast that it’s choking me, and I know it’s not just water. He wouldn’t force me to drink if it was just water. I’m being drugged.
“In a few minutes, we’re going to get up and go to the car, so we can give Eva her message,” he explains. “I’ll help you out to the car so you don’t fall.”
“Please! I’ll do . . . anything. Whatever you want. Please?”
He shakes his head. “I just need you to help me with a message.”
“Eva!” Nate is pulling my hand from Piper’s, rescuing me from being inside her death.
The rug . . . that’s the rug in the foyer of her house. The killer is in her house. She is murdered in her own home.
Piper, the real Piper who is in my house, stares at me with an expression somewhere between discomfort and intrigue. She rubs the hand I just released as if I held it too tightly, but she says nothing. Then her gaze darts to Nate as he puts an arm around my waist.
“Something you forgot to tell me?” Piper says in a low voice. She arches a brow and looks pointedly at Nate’s arm.
I shake my head. I don’t even know how to speak right now. I want to believe that everything’s okay. It’s not.
I realize belatedly that everyone in the room is watching us, and I don’t know what to say. Piper is going to be a victim. Judge—whoever he is—is going to kill her.
“You should sit back down,” Nate orders. “Chair or sofa?”
“Sofa.” I glance at Piper and answer the question she’d ask if we were alone. “I’m not sleeping with him. We are friends though.”
I hear several other muffled gasps and laughs throughout the room. Nate turns around and looks at me like I’ve just lost my ever-loving mind—and I may very well have lost it. I don’t know what to do. How do I save Piper? She grins at me and walks away.
“Don’t leave, okay?” I call out to her. I don’t know what to do yet, but I can’t let her go home . . . which is absurd. What am I to do? I can’t insist she never go home. I muffle a cry of frustration against Nate’s shoulder.
“Come on,” he urges.
I want to tell him, tell Piper, but she’s walked away. Quietly, I ask, “Keep an eye on her for me?”
He freezes, lips open on a question he can’t ask in front of everyone.
I nod.
“Okay,” he says. I know then that he believes in my visions completely. He just agreed to watch Piper—a girl he can’t stand—because of my vision.
I turn my back to him and make my way to the sofa. When I reach it, CeCe is there ready to help me sit. I smile and say, “Thanks.”
“You have some brass balls on you,” she says in a low voice. “I thought you left those back in middle school.”
“I found them again,” I say.
“I see that. The way you’re acting is all but admitting there’s something going on with Nate. No one has had the nerve to do that.”
CeCe reaches out for my crutches.
I tense. This is what I need: to see their deaths and look for clues. I still tense as I wait for her hand to brush mine. After my vision of Piper, I’m not ready to do this, but I need to try. I don’t release my crutches until CeCe touches me. Her knuckles graze my hands—and nothing happens.
“Eva?” CeCe prompts.
“Sorry.” I release my crutches and balance on my one foot. “I guess I’m a little out of it today.”
“We all are.”
Why didn’t it work? I stare at her and resolve to try again.
She sets my crutches to the side and reaches out one arm so I can use it to steady myself. I wait until her arm bumps my hand.
Again, nothing happens.
I want to understand why it didn’t work, but I don’t know how to figure that out. It’s not the most pressing issue either. I need to figure out how to keep Piper safe and, hopefully, be sure none of my other friends here are victims-to-be.
I’m quiet as CeCe helps me to settle on the sofa. Holding on to her arm is almost like holding Robert’s or Nate’s. I feel corded muscles under her skin, and I’m astounded at how strong she is. Grace is strong, but her biggest strengths are in her legs—which I’m sure help her plenty but wouldn’t be very useful in the same ways. CeCe clearly works out differently. If the killer attacked her, maybe she’d be able to fight. Is that a factor? Is he only picking people he can overpower?
“You’re strong,” I say stupidly.
“Swim team, tennis, and weight training.” Her expression grows serious then and she adds, “Once you’re healed, I’d be happy to help you with your PT.”
“My . . . ?”
“Your physical therapy.” She motions to the leg that I have stretched out on the sofa. “I figure Grace will help with it, but if you need another person, I’m here. It’s one of the careers I’m considering.”
“Thanks. That would be great, actually.” I’m oddly relieved that she was thinking in terms of my recovery, not in terms of the killer out there.
The sudden peal of the doorbell startles me, but before I can get back to my feet, I hear Grace call out, “It’s Grayson and them.”
A few moments later, the familiar sounds of Robert’s closest friends comfort me. This is normal. This is my real life. Even when I hear Robert’s voice, I stay mostly calm. I know the detective questioned him, but I can’t believe for even a moment that he’s capable of the kind of violence that the killer has used already—and will use against Nate and Piper if we don’t stop him.
I listen as they talk softly. I can’t tell what they’re discussing at first, but then I hear the words “fireball” and “better if the speakers were moved.”
I’m glad they came. Even with everything going on, they sound normal.
But when my eyes meet Robert’s for a moment, I realize that he’s simply pretending that everything’s normal. He looks terrible. I’m not surprised though. It can’t easy to deal with visits from the police, Amy’s death, my accident, and his secrets coming to light in such a terrible way.
I offer him a small smile.
“Yeung said you were tired.” Reid’s voice pulls my attention to him as he flops in the chair across from me. “I’m sorry you were hurt.”
Maybe guys just have a different way of seeing things. Someone attempted to kill me, broke my leg, damaged my brain, and scarred my face. Reid stares at me like it’s okay to gawk.
“What?” I don’t mean to snap, but my voice is harsh.
“Nothing.” He shrugs. “I said something. You say something in reply. That’s how people have a conversation. You know this. We’ve done it a million times. So let’s start again.” He takes an exaggerated breath. “Yeung says you’re tired. I’m sorry you got hurt. Now, you say . . .”
“She says, ‘Why don’t you be a little more considerate?’” CeCe answers. “You’re staring at her.”
“Hmm, you don’t sound like Eva,” Reid says. His smile is so slow to follow his words that for a moment I think that he’s genuinely angry with CeCe, but then he shakes his head and adds, “Don’t treat her like she’s going to break if we mention it. She’s strong. She was in the hospital, but it’s not the end of the world. She’s still Eva.” He bends over the arm of the chair, twisting his body and glancing toward the door. “Rob! Hey, Rob!”
Robert comes to the door of the room. “What?”
“Do you mind if I go out with Eva now that she dumped you?”
“Screw you.” Robert’s face flushes in anger
Reid has already moved on. He calls, “Jamie, what about you? Want to flip a coin to see who gets to ask her out?”
Before Jamie can answer, Nate strides into the room. “Mind your manners around Eva.”
