by Amy McNulty
“Hey, guys?” I said, taking the few steps up to Paisley’s patio. “Can we just—pause a minute? I have something to say.”
The group did give me their attention and I felt a hot flush creep up my neck at the sudden awareness that I was everyone’s focus. My eyes scanned the small group of baseball guys, and though not everyone was there—it wasn’t like I was super close to all of them, anyway, just always near them by proximity of Paisley—one guy was noticeably missing. “Has anyone heard from Devam?” I asked, my previous train of thought derailing.
Calder slipped in behind Ashton and Simpson—I forgot his first name, everyone always just called him that—and glanced this way and that over his shoulder, his hands in his new letterman jacket pockets, his shoulders hunched forward.
The clank of a ramp being lowered from the back of a truck drew my attention to the neighbors’ driveway. Over the fence, the newly-visible top of a white moving truck explained the sound.
“He’s been sick since Homecoming,” said Charlie, pounding his right fist into his catcher’s mitt on his left. He grinned. “I told him about the mess he missed. He wasn’t sorry he got food poisoning after all.”
Food poisoning. More like he was poisoned and became the food. I swallowed. But at least someone had been talking to him since then. And it hadn’t been that long. I couldn’t believe the dance from the fiery depths had been only a few days ago.
“Oh,” I said, and I flinched again with the sound of something large dropping on the other side of the fence. I cleared my throat, aware that I was losing everyone’s focus to the sounds of a neighbor packing house. “Well, someone will tell him, I hope. But, uh, so… Tomorrow I’m transferring to Central.”
Licking my lips, I took in the puzzled expressions—the similar looks on Lyric’s and Paisley’s faces punctuated by jaws agape. Lyric took a step back, suddenly unsteady on her feet. Paisley maneuvered herself out of Grey’s arms with some effort, pushing on his chest to get free, whirling on me.
“What did you just say?” she asked.
I tugged on my sleeves, shuffling my feet. “I’m transferring schools tomorrow.”
“Why?” demanded Paisley, grabbing me by the arms and shaking me. “We’ve gone to the same school since—forever!”
Lyric was still speechless and now she’d walked back into Charlie, and she didn’t even seem to notice.
Ashton looked over his shoulder at Calder. “Something to do with the new boyfriend?” he asked.
I exchanged a look with Paisley and she winced. So she’d told everyone. Ashton didn’t seem that bothered, though. So much for our little flirtation the previous year.
“It’s not just that,” I said, clearing my throat and weaving my hands together in front of me. Simpson and the rest of the guys who barely interacted with me were already talking amongst themselves, one tapping at his phone while the others glanced over his shoulder. “We’ve got a game against them in March,” said Simpson, like I cared.
I supposed it was their only way to relate to me.
“So you’re our rival now,” said Charlie. He grinned, but Lyric looked about ready to slap that grin off his face.
“This has to be a joke,” she said. She lifted her chin high and went unnaturally stiff, a slight swallow jiggling her throat. “Ha ha. Very funny.”
“It’s all being taken care of already,” I said. “Mom and Dad both agreed…”
“Why would your parents agree to this nonsense?” Lyric tossed her hair over her shoulder.
“Come on, Leer,” said Charlie, patting her shoulder with his mitt-less hand. “It’s not like you’ll never see her again.” He motioned to Ashton over his shoulder and pointed to the fence, then they were off, no doubt to collect the ball Lyric had flung over there.
Grey slipped an arm around Paisley’s waist and she flung it off like a child in no mood to be coddled. “You can’t just do that,” she said. She turned around and glared at Calder. “You can’t just decide to take her to your school,” she snapped. “She was our friend before she was your girlfriend.”
There really was no getting around everyone thinking that was why I was making the transfer, was there?
One of the guys let out a shout and the whole wave of them, minus Grey and Calder, moved back and looked to the sky, their hands or mitts extended, and I realized their ball was soaring toward them from over the fence.
Ashton took a little leap into the air and managed to catch it in his mitt, and the whole lot of them went wild.
Calder took a wary step back from the clump of jumping and hollering boys, his tanned skin suddenly sickly.
“Nice catch,” said a deep, hollow voice.
At the edge of the fence near the sidewalk strolled Dean in a dark gray vintage pinstripe suit, his sunglasses pointedly affixed in my direction. He tipped his hat slightly at me, then leaned a shoulder against the fence, crossing one foot in front of the other, his hands in his pockets.
I didn’t know why I’d never thought of it this way before, but he looked like an old-timey gangster.
Before I could even blink and realize what was happening, my brain registered the speeding blur retreating from the yard as Calder bolted for his truck.
Alone.
Chapter Six
I stood, slack-jawed, as Calder stared back at me right before climbing into his truck. Dean looked over his shoulder at him, too. Calder gestured for me to follow.
Did he honestly think the vampires were going to do anything to us here—in front of my friends? Orin had said neither side was to involve innocents.
Though Orin wasn’t here.
Still, I clenched my hand into a fist, feeling the cold sizzle in the air against an already-chilly breeze. I shook my head.
Then Calder shook his and started his vehicle up, pulling away from the curb and down the street.
He left me.
He actually left me.
I was so dazed that I didn’t notice the guys jogging over to Dean, the moment Dean had redirected his attention to charming the small crowd in front of him.
“Uh, wasn’t he your ride?” asked Lyric.
Stretching out my fingers, I anchored myself back in the moment, letting the tension roll off my muscles. A chicken Calder wasn’t anything new. I’d just thought now that we were a team…
“He, uh, had something to do,” I said, though my friends would have witnessed the whole thing, how he’d just turned on his heel and run without a word. “He’ll be back later.” Or he can kiss his champion’s support goodbye.
I scanned the area, looking for anything else I’d missed. Taking a backward step up Paisley’s patio, I got a better look at the top of the moving truck: Horne Moving Co. Stupid, I told myself. You knew to watch out for that.
But honestly, I had no idea what they were doing here, next to Paisley’s house—how they’d known I’d be here.
“Funny coincidence,” said Dean loudly enough to get my attention. He gestured over his shoulder. “That we were hired to move your neighbors.” He pointed at Ashton and then Simpson and kept pointing at the people gathered one by one, as if waiting for the real Spartacus to speak up.
“Mine,” said Paisley, a slight tint of red to her cheeks as she wriggled her fingers at him. Grey slipped in on what looked like instinct, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend. She didn’t push him away this time, settling in back against his chest as he stood behind her.
Dean grinned and stuck his hands back in his pockets. I could have sworn his sunglasses-covered eyes fell on me. “Quite a coincidence.”
My sometimes-scaly mermaid butt.
I stared Dean down, waiting for him to say anything more, but he broke into quieter chatter with the bulk of the baseball team guys as a loud clang rang out again from the driveway behind him.
“You picked a really crappy time to transfer,” said Lyric, suddenly bringing me back to the crisis at hand. The normal teen crisis, the one that didn’t involve the paranormal.
“No one just transfers a month and a half into the school year,” snapped Lyric. “Not unless they were moving to another city or something—but you’re going to Central.”
“It’s just some… issues with my dad,” I said. “Sort of. Look. I just need some space.”
“But you’re still going to see your dad half the week anyway, right?” asked Paisley.
I didn’t really want to throw my dad under the bus when he hadn’t done anything wrong. “It’s not… It’s like… I’m just taking a short break,” I said. “From his… house.”
“Is it your step-mom?” asked Lyric in a hoarse whisper, finally taking her accusatory tone down a notch.
“Kind of.” I ran a finger over the zipper on my hoodie. I shivered at the feel of the cold metal.
“You never told us you were having problems—” started Paisley, but the guys letting out loud whoops and hollers drew all of our attention. A car had pulled up in front of Paisley’s, and Devam stepped out of the driver’s seat, sweeping his shaggy, black hair off his forehead before slapping hands with each member of the team, a move that led to a ritualized mutual exchange of pats on the back.
He seemed normal, but…
Around the other side of the car came Journey Slowe, a gigantic grin on her face, and behind her… Ember.
My hand went ice cold as I found my feet taking me back a step. Ember slid her arms around Dean and Dean leaned down to press his lips to hers.
“Guess Devam is over his food poisoning,” said Lyric and I noticed her watching me carefully, so I quickly looked away. But it was too late. “Do you have some sort of problem with your step-sister?” she asked. “That would better explain why you felt the need to change schools…”
“No,” I lied, finding myself swallowing down the word.
“Fine, keep your secrets,” spat Lyric. “Not like we’re not your best friends or anything.” Her shoulders stiffened. “You know, I just might have had enough from unreasonable people today—”
I grabbed her by the wrist before she could leave. “Please. It’s just… It’s really personal, okay? Don’t make a big deal of it. Just steer clear of Ember and Dean if you can, okay?”
Lyric and Paisley exchanged a quizzical look and then Lyric yanked her arm away, grabbing her purse off the porch and tossing her hair once again. “If you say so.” Her lips went thin. “But I’m still going home. Long day.” She cleared her throat. “So I guess I’ll see you… sometime.” She turned to Paisley and brightened a little. “See you at school.”
“See ya,” said Paisley, bouncing on her toes as Lyric went to her car. She had to ask the guys to back up and she gave Dean and Journey a little wave before getting into her vehicle and driving off unscathed, unbothered by any of the vampires moving house next door.
Ember’s eyes met mine as she ran a finger down the front of Dean’s tie. She looked like a genuine old-timey mobster moll. All she was missing was the vintage clothing. Instead, she had on a pair of skinny jeans and a baggy red sweater.
Drawing in a slow, steady breath, I picked up my feet and walked across the lawn to face my enemies head-on.
My phone buzzed from my tote bag as I hit the halfway mark and I realized at the sharp strike of pain in my jaw that I was grinding my teeth.
The thoughts That better be Calder and That better not be Calder both flew through my head. If it weren’t for the paranormal stuff coloring our every move, he’d be out the door as a boyfriend, just sprinting and leaving me all alone in my time of need like that.
If he’d insisted on running—which I didn’t agree with—he should have taken me with him from the start. And not left when I wouldn’t go.
“Ivy,” said Ember sweetly as I approached. Her dark red lips went wide, but there was no sign of the fangs I half-expected to find. Then again, I didn’t always have the mermaid tail, either.
Ignoring her, I squeezed in between Ashton and Charlie to get a good look at Devam just as Paisley stepped into the circle and found her place back at Grey’s side. Devam had his arm around Journey, and both of them looked dazzling—yet ill somehow. Their overt happiness reeked of being pasted on over their former selves.
“Are you feeling okay?” I asked, stopping Devam mid-sentence in some inconsequential back and forth with Charlie about which baseball team should have won the World Series.
“Yeah. Much better. No more raw cuts of meat for me.” Devam chuckled, his lips widening into a pearly-white smile that somehow sent shivers down my spine. “Just needed to rest it off—shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He exchanged a look with Journey, who turned to Dean and Ember as they shimmied their way into the impromptu friend circle. I wished I had my tail so I could flick them right out of it.
“I was fine. It was Ember who…” I felt suddenly hot, despite the crisp cold in the air. Ember twirled a lock of her hair around one red-tipped finger, her gaze locked over my head.
“To say Homecoming was a disaster all around would be an understatement.” Journey leaned her head against Devam’s shoulder. “Who knew I’d be getting off light with food poisoning?” There was a murky, pallid tone to her brown skin, and I just didn’t like that whatever had happened when she’d gone with Devam to the vampire stronghold, she had walked out in this sickening, strange state of bliss.
If I ever was surrounded by a family of bloodsuckers, I certainly wouldn’t be making jokes about consuming raw meat.
Unless I was totally cool with vampires, I supposed…
Another crash from the neighbors’ driveway had me gasping, and it certainly didn’t help that my phone had gone from buzzing to full-out ringing just then. Only my parents actually called me, but thanks to Orin’s help, I didn’t think either would be particularly worried about me right now.
“Hey, did you know Sheppard is transferring to Central?” asked Ashton, nudging me with his shoulder as he faced Devam. Everyone laughed as I practically jumped out of my skin, turning toward the source of the touch with my fists up and my legs spread wide, like I was some boxer.
“Down, tiger,” said Ashton, running a hand over the back of his close-cropped hair. But he did take a step back.
“You’re leaving Union?” asked Ember, unfazed by me going all pseudo martial artist on my friend. Clearing my throat, I adjusted my tote bag’s straps up my arm and stood straight, thrusting my arms tightly across my chest. “Yup.”
“How did our parents take that?” Our, she’d said. Like we were normal step-sisters, nothing more to see here.
Shrugging, I bit down on my lip. Hard.
“Hey!” called Paisley, bringing me back to the moment. She was focused on the street, where three boys about eleven or twelve were tossing a football between them. “Alan, what did Mom tell you? Stay out of the street!” Her little brother was one of them.
“No one’s coming!” the dark-haired boy with dirt on his jeans and an uneven hoodie drawstring dangling over his chest screamed back. He ran backward, practically tumbling over his untied sneaker lace, and caught a spinning pass, screaming and stomping his feet in delight.
“Your phone’s ringing,” said Ashton beside me, pointing to my tote bag. So it was. Again. Ashton’s pasted-on smile as he took another awkward step back told me he was pretty sure if he got too close, I’d try some self-defense moves on him. Considering the tension in the air, he wasn’t wrong.
“Thanks,” I grumbled, digging through the bag, trying to somehow feel for it amidst my things while keeping my eyes on the vampire in front of me.
It was Calder, and I had a number of missed calls. I dismissed the notifications to see his earlier texts pop up ins
tead.
Get out of there. We’re not ready.
Well, gee, thanks, I thought, no time to text him back. Maybe if you’d grabbed me before bolting out of here…
“Alan, do you want me to tell Mom and Dad?” Paisley’s voice was loud now, commanding, as she broke away from her boyfriend and strode out toward the sidewalk and the street. Alan was surrounded by his two other friends now, who were jumping in place in the middle of the cracked and fading pavement.
Paisley thought to check left and right as she stood on the curb, bending her legs and practically ready to reach out and snatch the kid. She took on a tougher persona wherever he was concerned, even though the little beanpole was well on his way to towering over her.
Alan thought it a game, running out of her reach and sticking to the street, laughing and clutching the ball under his arm.
“Stop being a brat!” shouted Paisley, and the guys around me oohed and laughed, like they were enjoying this little kid being a royal pain.
My phone rang again—Calder, no surprise—and I answered it, staring as Alan pointed for his friends to go long and they vanished from view around the side of the fence.
“What?” I snapped.
“Finally!” said Calder on the other side of the line. “Tell me you’ve gotten out of there.”
“No,” I said, my eyes snapping back to Dean. He merely inclined his head toward me, a knowing smirk on his lips, like he could hear my entire conversation. Maybe supersonic hearing ranked among the vampire powers I didn’t know about. Or maybe he just had the keen insight of putting running-boyfriend plus we’re-at-war together.
“I went to get help,” said Calder, and my roiling surge of anger calmed down just a notch. So he wasn’t just running off with his tail between his legs, to hide again like usual?
“You left,” I said quietly, both words a struggle to get out with so many people nearby. Even if most were distracted by Paisley screeching at her brother to get his butt out of the road.
“I’m sorry,” said Calder. “I just…”
