Almost Dead (Blackwell Academy Book 1)

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Almost Dead (Blackwell Academy Book 1) Page 11

by Rae Hendricks


  She felt...guilt for being special, for being different.

  I couldn’t say I didn’t relate.

  “Well, I just talked to one of ours, and he was standing in front of her house and watching her talk to a ghost. Maybe she is simply hiding what she can do for whatever reason.”

  I froze. Not only was she talking to a ghost, but they were having her watched at her own home? I didn’t think the Circle would ever go so far as to venture out into the human world to watch her every move. This was more serious than I thought, and I was instantly filled with a burning desire to rip out the throat of whoever had been spying on her in privacy.

  “Is it smart to be out in the open like that?” I questioned, trying not to make my anger obvious. They couldn’t know she was anything more than an acquaintance I was watching for them.

  “Well, look at you, all caring,” she teased, and I felt like I was going to be sick. “I didn’t know you could care, Desmond. Thanks for the concern, but we will be fine. We have been doing this a long time and stayed well under the radar of those who would expose us.”

  “So, you have what you need, then?” I asked, hoping I would be set free at this point. I was unnecessary until they needed the knife, which I wasn’t sure if I could give up yet or not. It all depended on what could be done to prevent it, though it sounded like he wheels had been in motion long before I laid eyes on Anastasia Perez.

  “What we need is more on her life and her family. We need leverage, and we need to know how she operates. It can’t be that hard to get close to her, with your charms, if necessary.”

  “Done.” My jaw was tight as I gave her the only answer I would survive.

  24

  Hello Again

  Anastasia

  I could actually feel his presence around me as I braided my hair in the mirror, my pajamas on and ready to relax.

  The trip home had been exhausting so far. I had been drug along by my mother to go Christmas shopping to decorate the house and to get everyone we knew the perfect present. Part of me wondered if it was on purpose to distract us both from the elephant in the room - the fact that she knew what I was.

  Papa still worked up until the day before Christmas Eve when his office closed until two days after Christmas. It would be nice to get to spend some time with him for a chance, but I worried what he knew about me. My mother had not mentioned if she had ever told him what she saw me do while on campus. I didn’t know what story she fed him about Brady’s death, but he hadn’t come knocking at my dorm door. He hadn’t obsessively called to see if I was okay and needed to come home.

  I didn’t know if her not telling him would be better or worse than if she hadn't.

  "I know you're here," I told him, feeling so dumb for talking to nobody, but it was all a part of getting used to what I could do. In this case, I had finally found a purpose for speaking with the dead, and I wanted to know what that vague warning he gave me was about. "Hanging around in my bedroom while I am getting ready for bed is so typical of a boy like you, it is ridiculous."

  Now that Brady was a ghost, he didn’t scare me. I didn’t think he could touch me or do much other than hang around at awkward times and give me stupid warnings that I didn’t even know whether to believe or not. Though, if I admitted it to myself, the truth was that I wanted to hear from Brady now because I needed to know what was so unsafe about Desmond, especially after the kiss we shared outside Charlotte's room. The world had shifted in that moment, and I didn’t know if I could deny him even if he tried to kill me.

  "Look, old habits die hard." I swung my head around to see that his transparent self was draped across my bed and put my hand my hip.

  "Get off my bed, Brady, and get out of my house if you're not going to be of any help to me. If you’ve been a ghost this whole time you already know that everyone thinks I murdered you, and all you're worried about is telling me not to have a boyfriend."

  He got up from the bed as I huffed, leaving it for me to plop down in and glare at him. As he walked around the room, I could vaguely see my furniture through him, and it was fascinatingly strange.

  "I didn’t tell you not to have a boyfriend, I warned you to stay away from the one you keep throwing yourself at. He is bad news. Don't you know who his grandfather is?"

  "Was," I specified angrily, my lip pouting out like a petulant child. "And his father was the one to kill him, so genetics seem to mean very little here. That’s the problem with you and the rest of Champion Hall, you're nothing but judgmental."

  He put his hands up in the air in a show of surrender. "Look, I am dead, and it sucks. I have had plenty of time to think on my actions and watch those I left behind continue my legacy of bullying and harassment. If I ever move on, I know where I am going, and it won’t be bright and shiny. I was awful to you and to everyone else. But what I regret the most is taking my legacy and my attitude too far down the rabbit hole. It was what got me killed."

  I sat up straight, ready to hear what I wanted to find him for in the first place. "You mean, you remember who killed you. You could tell me?"

  "Woah, slow down. It’s more complicated than that. They never would have sent anyone important, and, in fact, the one who carried it out found himself dead right after me."

  I gasped, unsure what that meant. It was like some kind of big conspiracy you might see on a mystery television show. "What were you involved in that got both of you killed, and what do I have to do with it?"

  "I don’t think you’re ready yet for the second answer, but I can tell you what I am pretty sure got the both of us killed - an organization called the Circle."

  I had never heard of it and looked at him in confusion.

  "Yeah, they don’t talk about it in classes because they are afraid it will only encourage more to join, but ever since the death of Constantine, there has been an underground group of people who want things back the way they were when he was in charge. It was my cousin who got my involved in it, and since I was in, there was no getting out. You were part of my job. That's as far as I want to go there because I think it’s the person that caused you to be here that owes you the truth, and no amount of being in a coma is going to get hm out of that."

  "A coma," I whispered, my brain trying to put the pieces together but then scrambling them once more when I realized I didn’t want to know. The possibility was too painful. I didn’t want that memory to be ruined when it was already tainted with the near fatal car accident.

  "What was your cousin’s name?" I asked him, clenching my chest to prepare myself.

  "Michael," he scoffed, and I fell into a sea of panic as I gasped for air.

  "He ... he killed me on purpose. But then why did he get hurt?"

  "It’s a sacrifice we were all willing to make to be a part of the Circle. Or at least we pretended to be willing. I'll leave you alone for now, but know that I may be a jerk, but I am sorry for what I did."

  He appeared before my eyes, and it didn’t even phase me as I slid down onto my pillows, not knowing what to make of it.

  Had Michael even felt anything for me at all, or was I just a pawn? I would have to go see him to find out, but first, I needed to put on a good face for my family because Christmas was coming.

  ***

  There had never been such a heavy quiet hovering over the Perez dinner table. We were supposed to be having a family Christmas dinner which was always lively and fun. I could feel the tension rolling off my mother in waves, especially once my father began asking about school.

  "So, how have your grades been? Has it been hard to catch up with the other students?"

  I looked at my mother for any clue that he knew what I was, but she kept her head down on the food she had hardly touched. "Yes, it’s a little hard. Some students have been there for years, but I study hard and have made a couple of friends." I hate telling half-truths, especially after he was the one who promoted me to share my life and not keep secrets.

  "A small, tight knot group of frien
ds is better than so many, I think. Much like a family." His smile was so warm and inviting, I wanted so badly just to tell him. Where telling my mother gave me anxiety because of how she would react, not telling my father gave me a pile of guilt. And I was so sick of guilt I could scream.

  "Yes, I agree. Also, I am sorry you didn’t come with Mama to see the school. It would have been nice to show you around." My mother loudly dropped her fork, causing us to turn our eyes in her direction. The loom she gave me let me know she was beyond upset I had even brought it up.

  "Oh, I am sorry too, but you know how work is. I was lucky to have the holiday with you, but I put my foot down for you, Mija. Your mother told me the place was just as beautiful as I remember, though a little on the side of extravagant for my tastes. Oh, and she said she met Ms. Aberdeen, a very nice woman who sings your praises, I hear." He winked at me, and I knew I could no longer keep my food down while playing at this charade.

  "Mama?" I asked her, and she still wouldn’t look at me. "Why didn't - "

  "I think it’s time for desert!" she hollered and stood up, the chair grinding against the floor with a scrape that echoed throughout the house that steadily didn’t feel like a home anymore.

  I followed after her, not caring what my father would think. "Are you kidding me? You didn’t tell him!" I whisper-screamed at her as she busied herself with pulling out the cookies that were still awaiting their red and green frosting. "Why didn’t you tell him? I can’t lie to him like this."

  "You can, and you will, Ana. This is not the kind of stress he needs on top of an uncooperative work schedule. He wouldn’t be able to handle it, that his little girl was some ... some ... otherworldly thing that we couldn’t possibly understand."

  "You think I am a freak, don’t you?” Tears came to my eyes and spilled over, dripping down my nose and then off into the floor in a tiny puddle.

  "I didn’t use that word."

  "You didn’t have to, Mama, I know just what you mean."

  "What’s going on here?" We turned our heads to see that Papa had come into the room to hear the last part of the fight. "Papa, I have something to tell you. Can you promise not to get scared or angry?" I asked him.

  "I don’t know if I can promise those things, but I can promise to be calm if I feel those things. What is it, Mija?" He looked back and forth between my mother and I, wondering who to pin the blame on. I wasn’t going to out her for what she knew and didn’t tell, but I wasn't going to be keeping a secret from him either.

  "Okay, you might want to sit down," I warned him before I willed myself to rise in the air, as far as the ceiling, and even bumped my head on it. "Ouch!" I cried out and then looked down at my father who looked both amazed and confused.

  25

  Michael

  "Mija! What have you done? What have you gotten yourself into?" Papa cried out as my mother stood back from it all as if she wanted nothing to do with it.

  "I don’t want to hide this from you, Papa. You told me I could share who I was with you, and this is who I am now. I know what it must look like to you. I thought it was crazy too, even after I felt it for myself, but something happened to me the day of the accident. You have to believe me." I held his hands and looked into his eyes, willing him to understand me, to listen to his daughter. His family had been raised Catholic for generations and generations, and I was raised the same. I knew what he was thinking - that something evil had gripped me. "Please, I am still your daughter."

  "I know you are, but I am scared for you. Things like this are dangerous. Tell me why, Mija?" he said with tears in his eyes.

  "I died. The day of the accident, I was dead. I watched the paramedics work on me, and I was out of my body. When I got jolted back, I started to see and hear colors and then an old man in my hospital room. I thought it was the pain meds or something to do with my injuries, but it turns out, that is what Blackwell Academy is. It is a school for those of us who have gifts beyond comprehension. Those of us that die and come back are given these talents. I don’t know why, but that is what I have learned. I am there to learn to do good with these gifts and not hurt anyone, and I can’t hide this from either of you anymore. I can’t be this alone!" My emotions were overflowing right now as I begged my father to see me and help me through this. I needed to know that I was still the same person he had raised and taught right from wrong.

  "This still scares me, Mija. I don’t know what to make of it, but I would never look at you any differently. I want to spend the day with you tomorrow, just you and me. I can get to know the new you," he offered, and I was flooded with pure relief. This was not at all how Mama had reacted. Not that I could fault her, but Papa didn’t make me feel like a freak. Like I needed to be locked away somewhere.

  "Thank you, Papa."

  The next day reminded me of when I was younger. Being the day after Christmas, most things were shut down, though, there were a few trusty places we could still count on to be open. We started with an early movie and then went to the park to have ice cream. There was a chill in the air, but it wasn't cold enough to justify turning down a perfect vanilla cone.

  "I wanted to say I am sorry for the way your mother and I have reacted to what you have told us, but it is a lot to process. The problem is, I cannot imagine what it must have been like for you trying to figure out on your own what was happening. I would scold you again for keeping secrets, but I can't say I wouldn’t have done the same thing," my father spoke as I licked away at my cone, not caring if I got a brain freeze.

  "I didn’t been believe it after I saw for myself and the dean told me what was happening. They say I could get even more powers as I learn, so I am still just playing it by ear and often scared by my own abilities," I admitted, my mind drifting to the rest of the truth, the hardest part of it. But if I was going to do this, it would be all the way. "There is something else you should know as well. A letter came home, which is what sent Mama my way. Three students have died now on campus, and it was made to look like I did it. I don’t know why, but I know that it has to do with Michael. I don’t think he actually liked me now. I think he was told to take me in the car." I couldn’t look my father in the eyes when I said it because it hurt so bad. It made me feel unwanted and weak for believing so easily someone could have feelings for me.

  Wasn’t I doing the same thing with Desmond, though?

  No, he had made it all too clear there as something between us. That kiss had been too raw, and I couldn’t believe I had fallen for Michael's charm now that I had felt something real. And I was going to be as cautious as I could with Desmond after what Brady had aid. Even if he was a bad guy, I had to at least think about what he had said. That didn’t mean I couldn’t give my all to what we had together at the same time. It just meant being prepared and watching for the signs something was off.

  "Are you sure you want to go back?" he asked me, and I was glad he was giving me a choice.

  "I am. I have to. I need to learn more about myself and what I can do, but I also think that whatever is happening could easily follow me here if it isn’t handled. There are people at school to protect me, and I might even learn to protect myself."

  "What can I do to help you?" he asked, his eyes looking at me in a new way, but not in a way that felt negative.

  "There is one thing ... can you take me to see Michael? We have some things to clear up."

  "Yes, but I am not leaving you alone with him after what you told me about him."

  "Fair enough." I stood up from the bench we were on and dusted myself off before following Papa back to the car. It was a few hours to the hospital where Michael was still staying. He had been able to come off some of the machines but was still recovering, having been put into a temporary coma by the doctors twice because he had seized upon waking. He had suffered a minor brain injury, and the doctors had said coming out of it, things like that were common nd didn’t mean there would be permanent damage.

  Even though he had hurt me, almost killed me
if Brady was right, I still wanted him to wake up. Maybe he could choose a different life now.

  It was strange being back in the hospital where I was fighting for my life and for the ability to walk again. The whole place felt cold, not like the comfort it had been during recovery. I saw some nurses I recognized as we were led to Michael’s room. He had been moved since we left, probably for long term care.

  As we approached, I could see that someone had been bathing him and taking care of his hair, though it had grown long with him lying there. The sun kissed locks and his pink lips used to drive me wild, but now the spell was broken He was an ordinary boy who I barely knew, if I was being honest. I had spent less time with Desmond and knew more about him. And what did Michael know about me for that matter? Not much unless he had stalked me before getting me in that car.

  "can you talk to him like this?" Papa asked, and I jumped, almost having forgotten he was in the room.

  "I think so. I saw him once before and just didn't realize what was happening. I think because he died too he is somewhere in between here and whatever is beyond." I didn’t know what else to call it, but that was a problem for another day.

  "Michael, we need to talk. I saw your cousin, Brady. He's dead."

  That got his attention as he materialized in the corner of the room, not making a move toward me.

  "Anastasia, you should stay away from me. You should get away before they get what they want from you."

  "You mean the Circle?" I asked, and his eyes went wide.

  "You shouldn’t even know about them."

 

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