by Skye Malone
“Have my parents called?” I asked into the silence. Whether or not Diane agreed to let us go, if they were only a few miles away, it’d all be a moot point.
“No, not yet.”
My brow furrowed. “Really?”
“I’d feel better if you girls stayed here,” Diane continued instead of answering.
“It’s just a short trip,” Baylie argued. “We’ll bring Daisy, I’ve got pepper spray, and we won’t talk to anyone but Maddox.” She paused. “Please, Diane? This freaks me out too. Really. But we’ll be super careful and if we stay here hiding all day, it’s just going to drive me nuts.”
“I–”
Diane looked over as Noah walked into the kitchen.
“Morning,” he said, and then he paused as if he’d picked up on the tension in the room. “Everything okay?”
“You can go if you take Noah with you,” Diane said to Baylie.
Noah’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Huh?”
“Diane, we’ll–” Baylie started.
“It’s that or you stay home.”
Baylie turned away, grimacing.
“What’s going on?” Noah asked cautiously.
“Chloe and I were planning to head over to the bookshop where Maddox works,” Baylie explained. “But–”
“There was another kidnapping,” Diane cut in. “And not to be anti-feminist or something, but I’d really prefer it if the girls weren’t out there alone. So would you go with them?”
Seeming a bit uncomfortable, Noah looked between us all and then shrugged. “Yeah, sure.”
“Good. Thank you.”
Diane went back to the sink and turned on the water.
Noah eyed her skeptically and then glanced to me and Baylie. “You, uh, want to head out now?”
Baylie nodded and rose from her seat by the kitchen island. Not knowing what to say, I followed her and Noah out of the room. It only took a moment for me and Baylie to run upstairs and grab our things, and then we were on our way.
The store was just opening as Noah pulled the car to a stop, and the streets were mostly empty. In the park across the road, a few people sat finishing their morning coffee or talking on their cell phones. The bright sunlight made the shops along the street seem lively and inviting, and cool shadows beneath the store awnings added to the appeal. Leaving Baylie to tie Daisy’s leash to a bike rack, I headed eagerly for the bookstore, happily noting the books propped on display stands in the window or, in one case, partially covered by the cat sleeping in front of it.
A ding rang out as Noah pulled open the door, and behind the counter, Maddox glanced up.
“Hey there,” he called, smiling.
“Hi,” Baylie said. She slipped past me to walk toward him.
I trailed after her, my eyes scanning the shelves.
There was something magical about places filled with books. An energy to being surrounded by so many words and ideas that whispered with each other and shouted at each other, that agreed and disagreed and contradicted each other. The combination created a pressure, a weight of presence that hinted at all the opinions and thoughts that made up the world, and that would take so much more than a lifetime to fully appreciate.
In a strange way, it bore a small similarity to the sea.
I wandered farther into the store, leaving Noah and Baylie chatting with Maddox by the register. Used books and new books alike crowded the shelves, and tables filled the space between the rows. I wound deeper into the store, skimming my gaze across the titles and covers and enjoying the fact that, besides one other store employee putting away books nearby, the early hour meant I was alone.
“Um… can I help you find something?”
I turned. One arm cradling a stack of books from his shelving cart, the employee eyed me questioningly.
“No thanks,” I said, smiling. The guy looked like the staple of great bookstores everywhere: a pale-skinned, grad student type with messy hair and a rumpled tartan shirt who probably spent more time on books than personal grooming.
“Okay, well just let me know if you need anything.”
I nodded and then went back to the books. A hardback lying sideways on the shelf caught my eye and, grinning, I picked it up to put it in its proper place.
A shadow moved at the corner of my eye. I glanced toward it.
Something slammed into my head.
Red light and stars burst across my vision and then the sharp-edged shelves hit me, sending heat rushing down my face. The world tilted and the ground came next, and pain shot through my shoulder as it took the brunt of the impact with the thinly carpeted concrete.
A shadow fell between me and the glaring store lights, resolving into messy hair and brilliant blue eyes. Meaty flesh clamped over my mouth, pressing down on my lips and nose and choking out any chance of a scream. The other hand grabbed me, wrenching me up from the floor, and then a tartan-clad arm wrapped me, crushing my chest. I tried to break the grip, to move my arms and grab at his face or tear at his hair, but nothing was responding correctly and the blackened blur of my vision was devouring everything.
“Hey!”
Baylie’s shout was followed by an agonized scream, and suddenly the grip on me vanished. I plummeted down, hitting the ground hard enough to make the darkness swirl. Footsteps thudded past me, and more shouts came, while the ringing in my ears tried to smother everything in a rush of pain and white noise.
“Chloe? Chloe!”
Fabric pressed to the side of my face and instinctively, I jerked away. The blackness went to gray, and through the clouds, I saw Noah crouched beside me.
“Chloe, can you hear me?”
I opened my mouth to speak, and choked.
“Baylie’s calling 911,” he said. “EMTs will be here soon. Just stay still.”
Noah looked up at something, and I tried to follow his gaze. By the stockroom door, Maddox appeared, his face flushed from running and his expression furious.
“Got away,” he growled.
For a moment, he met Noah’s eyes, saying nothing and through the fog, I couldn’t read the exchange. But then Noah blinked and looked back down at me.
“Stay with me, okay?” he urged. “Just hang on.”
I shivered. The ringing in my ears was getting louder, and blackness was creeping back across my gaze.
And everything hurt. God help me, everything hurt.
Blackness swelled. Weights pulled at my eyelids as the ringing grew louder, drowning the sound of Noah calling my name and dragging me down till darkness took the pain away.
Chapter Eight
Zeke
It’d been a few days since I’d reached Santa Lucina and I was bored.
Really bored.
And I couldn’t get that girl out of my mind.
For a while, I’d stayed near the ocean, wandering between the beach and the water while waiting to see if there was any change in the latter that would signal she’d returned. Nothing much had come of it, though. The town was on edge about something, and the tourists on the beach were less friendly than usual. Most met any questions I asked with muttered responses or suspicious replies, while a few had attempted to call the cops, seeming to find the fact I was looking for an auburn-haired girl something worth that level of alarm. After the third girl I’d tried to talk to had been hustled off by her friends – with plenty of wary glares in my direction – I’d given up and decided to head into town, just on the off chance I’d see anything.
Which was when I heard the ambulance.
I’d been walking past the downtown shops, enjoying the early morning and hoping to catch a glimpse of that girl or anyone who might’ve been with her, when the howl of sirens cut through the air. The sound drew closer and then an ambulance shot past the intersection in front of me in a blur of white sides and flashing lights. I followed, and found the vehicle pulling to a stop only a few hundred yards down the street.
I hung back, studying them from the corner. People rushed from the amb
ulance and ran into the store, while several others jogged to the back of the vehicle and threw open the doors to retrieve supplies. My brow furrowed as I watched them race in with a stretcher, and I wondered if I should just leave.
And then they hurried back outside.
It was the girl. She lay on the stretcher with blood covering her face and some kind of padded brace pinning her head, but it was her. The blond guy trailed the stretcher from the shop, with the other girl from the park clinging to his arm like it was the only thing keeping her standing. Police surrounded them, trying to ask questions, and then an older boy came out of the store, angrily interrupting the barrage with questions of his own.
The people loaded her into the back of the ambulance, the doors slammed and then they rushed to the front. The vehicle sped off.
I stared. She’d come back, obviously, or maybe she’d never left, but now it looked like someone had attacked her.
And from the blood, they’d done a pretty good job of it too.
By the shop, the other girl was crying, while the older guy yelled something at the police about how the girl could die, so they needed to follow her.
A curse slipped from me in Yvarian before I could stop it. I didn’t know what had happened and I didn’t care. She was dehaian. She was possibly dying. It was true she was surrounded by humans, which was bizarre in itself and meant that if I brought any kind of help beyond what they’d understand, I was risking the exposure of our people, but dammit, she was in trouble. I couldn’t just do nothing.
And I wasn’t going to let this all end with ‘and then some bastard killed her’.
I ran for the coast.
Streets blurred around me, taking too long to pass and stretching a million miles to the horizon. As the beach finally came into view, I swerved, avoiding the morning tourists and aiming for the most empty area I could manage. Wet sand sucked at my feet as I raced into the waves, and as the breakers rushed in, I dove, letting the water swallow me whole.
The change swept through me, dissolving the clothes I’d been too rushed to bother removing. Ignoring the debris, I kicked hard, rocketing forward and staying low so no trace of my fin broke the surface. The shallows sped by, and then I turned, racing for the supplies I’d hidden farther up the coast.
Minutes slid past, and for all my speed, the miles never seemed to end.
I barely knew this girl.
Annoyed, I pushed the thought away. So I had to know someone in order to help them? Since when had that been a prerequisite of giving a damn?
The underwater portions of the cave came into view. Ducking inside, I swam up through the seawater that never dropped below the lower half of the place. Water-worn hollows and ledges scored the walls, and the sun didn’t penetrate beyond the low archway that formed the entrance, providing countless shadowed hiding spaces. I drew up fast at the far end of the cave and started climbing, my tail becoming legs as I went.
My bag was where I’d left it a few days before, tucked into my usual hiding place on one of the uppermost ledges. Yanking it open, I scanned the contents, fear spiking for a moment at the thought I’d left the medicine behind when I’d packed.
And then I spotted the container at the bottom of the bag. Letting out a breath in relief, I sealed the bag again and then slung it over my shoulder, knowing I’d need the clothes inside when I returned to town. From the ledge, I dropped into the water and took off, racing back to Santa Lucina again.
I really hoped she didn’t die before I got there.
Grimacing, I pushed myself to go faster. If she died, then I hadn’t broken too many laws and Dad wouldn’t be too pissed. And if she didn’t, then the laws be damned, I’d have helped save her life. Dehaian medicine was powerful, drawing as it did on magic from deep beneath the water, and given how she’d looked at that store, the sieranchine in my bag was probably the best chance she had.
Assuming it didn’t send her into shock and kill her, since that was its effect on non-dehaians and she wasn’t exactly like anyone I’d ever seen.
I kicked harder, rocketing through the water. I’d be careful. Try a bit at first and see how she reacted. She was dehaian, even if she did weird things to the water. She should be fine.
The beach was annoyingly busy by the time I returned.
Glancing around beneath the waves, I hesitated, listening hard to the sounds from above the water, and then I darted toward what seemed like the least occupied stretch of sand. At a thought, my scales shed away, becoming legs and a dark imitation of swim trunks. Slipping from the water, I hurried up to the beach, hoping no one wondered why they hadn’t seen me go into the water before I’d come back out – or why I had a bag over my shoulder in the ocean.
But I didn’t have time to worry about it. She could be dying.
Jogging as fast as I dared over the sand, I fumbled a shirt and sandals from the bag, and then tugged them on as I headed for the street. At the stoplight, a cluster of people waited, several of whom eyed me skeptically when I hurried up.
“Where’s the nearest hospital?” I asked the least tourist-looking one of them.
The woman blinked. “Hospital?”
“Yes, hospital. Where’s the closest one?”
She hesitated, and then pointed. “A few miles that way.”
The stoplight changed, and the walk symbol popped up.
“Thanks,” I called as I took off running again.
Streets and miles and maddening stoplights passed, until at long last I rounded a corner and the white walls of the hospital came into view. Slowing, I adjusted the bag on my shoulder and strode inside.
It wasn’t going to be easy to get near her.
I scowled, shoving the thought away. I’d figure something out.
Following the signs on the walls, I headed for the emergency department. The building was a maze, and if it hadn’t been for the sense of the ocean behind me, I would have lost all awareness of direction by the time I reached the right place.
In the entryway, I hesitated. Across from me, a young brunette sat at a desk with brass letters overhead that marked the area as reception. A pair of large sliding doors to my right led to the outside – an entrance I hadn’t seen at all when I’d reached the building, but that I’d damn well use to get out of this labyrinth once I was done. In the glass-walled waiting area nearby, the two guys from the store sat, casting annoyed glances to the television I could hear playing in the room and looking as though they could barely keep from pacing. An older man and a police officer were with them, the latter of whom was still asking questions from the look of it, though the pair who’d driven her away in a car several days before were nowhere to be seen. Another cop stood by the double doors to my left that blocked off the remainder of the emergency department.
His gaze slid toward me. I looked away.
“Can I help you?” the woman behind the desk asked.
I hesitated. I couldn’t hope to sneak past them all.
“Yeah, um…” I glanced to the cop again, and tried to keep my voice low. “I’m here to see the girl who was brought in a bit ago. The one who’d been hit in the head?”
“And you are?”
“A friend.”
The caution on her face was blatant. “Well, I’m sorry, but she already has visitors and only two people are allowed to see a patient at a time.”
“I won’t be in the way. Please, I just want to check on her.”
She glanced to the police officer by the doors and then back to me. “I told you. No more than two visitors at a time. Now, if you want to wait, I’ll need to see some identification. Otherwise…”
Her eyebrow raised pointedly.
I looked back at the cop. Identification was out of the question and waiting wouldn’t do any good. The girl could be dying. I only needed a few uninterrupted seconds to maybe change that.
Slowly, I let out a breath. There was one way. It was illegal. And wrong. But if I only used a little, the woman would most likely be fine and re
cover long before anything turned life-threatening.
And I could really be running out of time.
Trying not to feel like a bastard, I turned back to her and smiled. “Listen,” I glanced down at her name tag. “Becky? I, um…”
I reached out fast, taking her hand. Her brow drew down in alarm and she jerked back, attempting to pull away, but the small twist of magic had already touched her skin.
Her expression flickered with confusion, and then melted into the sort of adoration that only the truly sick among us dehaians would enjoy.
I made myself keep smiling as I let the magic carry through my voice as well. “I need to get in there. Can you open the door?”
She frowned, still fighting it, and then her head twitched in a nod. Her hand fumbled for the button, and the doors swung back to let me through.
“Thank you,” I said, feeling nauseated.
The police officer watched me as I walked past. A desk formed the corner of two adjoining halls ahead, and beside it, I could see the girl from the store and another woman, both of them talking anxiously to a doctor. Curtains enclosed the space behind them, though a second later, a nurse pushed the fabric aside to carry out a tray, revealing the girl lying on a bed.
I hesitated. I could feel the police officer’s gaze still on my back, and if I headed straight for her, he’d be certain to stop me. But another curtained area was not too far away, and through a gap in the fabric, I could see that it was empty.
Trying to look purposeful, I marched inside. A few heartbeats passed, and then I leaned my head out again.
The cop had turned back toward the waiting room, and the doors were swinging closed behind him. I looked to the women and the doctor. He was taking them to a lighted wall panel farther down the adjoining corridor, where transparent black sheets showed side views of a human skull.
I strode down the hall and slid into the curtained space holding the girl.
She looked like hell. Tubes ran from her nose and arms to plastic bags on wheeled poles and beeping machines on the wall. Beneath the bandages wrapping her head, one side of her face was puffy, the skin blue and purple and red in turns, and the other side bore a vicious gash surrounded by swelling of its own.
