by Ann Aguirre
“Dad!” I yelled.
“Hm?”
“Can I borrow one of your old lab coats?”
“Anything you find in my closet, you can have, if you don’t bother me for an hour.” Dad sounded vaguely impatient.
He and Mom had agreed they needed to be home more, or I might repeat my trip to New Hampshire. I didn’t mind the attention, but it made my dad cranky, especially when it was his turn to play warden. However, since I’d been letting myself in for five years, it made for a nice change to have someone in the house when I got home from school.
“Anything, huh?”
From various boxes, I dug out a white lab coat, left from my dad’s grad student days. He worked out when he remembered but even so, he wasn’t nearly as thin as he had been then; my mom called it science-geek svelte. That went into my pile of costume components, along with protective goggles and a plaid bow tie. I had some black pants and if I added those to this stuff, plus my school shirt, I could mess up my hair and go as a mad scientist. It wasn’t sexy or even cute, but it suited my personality more than devil’s horns and a red leotard. All things considered, that also seemed a little on the nose.
Three hours later, a Skype request popped up from Ryu. I checked the time—early in Japan, so it was probably before school on his end. I accepted, smiling when he appeared on my laptop. His room was messy in the background, but his expression demanded my attention; he looked serious, nervous, even.
“What’s wrong?”
“Tell your friend to be careful. She’s mixed up in some scary shit.”
“Huh?” Oh, right. I told him the picture I sent was a friend’s tattoo. Worry surged through me, mingling with anger that I had been rattled enough by the mirror girl to ask him about the mark.
Fortunately, he took that as a request for clarification. “It took me this long, but I was curious, so I didn’t stop digging.”
“Dammit, Ryu. I told you not to bother.” Now you might be on their radar if you weren’t already.
He made a rude gesture at his screen. “You’re welcome. Anyway, do you want to hear what I found or not?”
“I guess.”
“Good. I don’t have much time before I have to catch my train. It’s not a kanji per se, but a gang symbol, and it seems to be favored by men with ties to the Yakuza.”
That tracked with what I knew about the immortals and their game. They chose individuals with great destinies, and from what I understood of the strategies, the Yakuza often made connections with powerful people in order to smooth the path for their operations. But I couldn’t tell Ryu that. Best to pretend I didn’t know anything about it.
“Wow, really? I wonder if she knew that when she picked it out?”
“Probably not. These things end up listed wrong, so some hipster wants the Chinese symbol for peace, and he gets the one for soup. Then Chinese people laugh at him.”
Despite growing unease, I snickered. “That would be my luck.”
“If you decide to get some ink, do your own research.”
“I’ll bear that in mind.”
“One last thing,” he said, as I reached to click off the call.
“What’s that?”
“The mark has a fairly sinister meaning. The guy I talked to down in the market said it literally reads as ‘Property of the Game,’ and if I ever meet anyone who’s marked with it, I should run like hell. Edie, is your friend in trouble?”
I closed my eyes briefly. “Maybe.”
“Well, try not to get pulled into her drama.” A woman called to him, likely his mom, and he yelled a reply. Then he leaned forward. “Talk to you later.”
My screen went blank.
I stared at my left wrist, assessing the statement of ownership. Kian had warned me the marks couldn’t be removed, and the infinity symbol hurt when I left Boston with Davina. Therefore, whatever I was supposed to do, it happened here. So if I try to move—or go to school elsewhere, will it burn that bad, trying to keep me on track? Obviously that must be a built-in guidance system, courtesy of Wedderburn.
With a muttered curse, I took a shower as if I could wash away my problems. That night, I chatted with Vi, and then I slept in on Saturday, nearly until noon. My mom woke me up to head to the gym. It was cool seeing how people reacted to her new look. Mom was rocking an asymmetrical bob and she’d started using both bronzer and lipstick in the mornings. A couple of professors totally checked her out as we rolled into the fitness center.
“Mr. Goatee has a thing for you,” I said.
“Edith.” She spoke in a chiding tone, but a smirk curved her mouth as she glanced over at the balding, forty-ish guy working on the elliptical across the way.
“Hey, I didn’t say you were interested in him.”
“These past weeks have been really fun,” she said.
“Agreed. I’m glad you took the first step.” There had been a lot more hugs in the past three weeks than in my whole life combined; I was looking forward to a bunch more.
“Me too.”
After we sweated and showered, we took the T east. Fifteen minutes of walking and we splurged on lobster rolls and clam chowder, well worth the trip to James Hook & Co. The trailer made the setup look sketchy, but it was a pretty day, sunny enough to make it hard for me believe some of the shit that had happened recently. Outdoor tables turned the meal into a bistro experience, and it was awesome watching people go by, even if the ambiance was a little … industrial. The Old Northern Avenue Bridge reinforced that impression.
Mom raised her drink. “It feels like we should celebrate. To new beginnings.”
I smiled and tapped my soda can against hers, then dug into the delicious food. Halfway through my roll, I decided it was well worth fifteen bucks or whatever she paid. We took a walk before heading home in time for me to get ready for the party. Since my costume was simple, that was easy.
When I came into the living room, my dad made me pose for a picture. Both he and my mom laughed at my take on the mad scientist since my hair was more punk rock than eccentric genius. Still, it was better than showing up in my uniform and saying I was a schoolgirl. Davina arrived five minutes late and her mom came up with her, which delayed our departure another ten minutes.
“I’m Mrs. Knightly.” She shook hands with my parents. She was a pretty African-American woman in her forties, well-dressed in a suit that said she hadn’t changed out of work clothes yet.
They made small talk for a few minutes, and finally, Davina lost her patience, dragging her mother toward the door. Mrs. Knightly lectured us on the way to Cameron’s house about the importance of making good choices.
“I won’t pretend I don’t know there’s going to be alcohol there, just don’t come out so drunk that you puke in my car. Also? Don’t leave your friend’s place, and don’t drink anything you didn’t pour yourself.”
“Got it,” Davina said.
The drive took forty-five minutes, and the sky darkened as we crossed the city. Now and then, I caught sight of kids with their parents going door to door. This one night of the year, adults got away with marching around in vampire regalia. They’re probably on their way to costume parties, too. Bizarre, this was the one night of the year when the monsters could mix freely with humans and not draw a second look. Inexplicably, I shivered.
In the posh suburbs, Mrs. Knightly parked in front of a house fronted by a stone wall and a looming gate. “What time is curfew?” She sounded like this was a trick question.
“Midnight,” Davina replied.
Her tone softened. “You two try to have fun, okay? I know it’s been a tough year, but you have to put it behind you.”
Easier said than done.
For Davina’s sake, I’d try not to spoil the night. She was dressed as a leprechaun in a short green skirt, ankle boots, black tights, leotard, glittery makeup, and a tiny green bowler. Before I could say she looked good, she dragged me out of the car with a promise to be waiting here at precisely twelve.
> The drive was asphalt, leading up to a classic new-money house, all modern convenience and no elegance, less charm. “Wow. That’s … big.”
“Right? I think I hear music. Come on.” Davina led me around back, where there were lights strung up. The patio doors stood open and the interior flashed with black lights, casting weird, zombie-ish shadows over all the faces. Right now, the crowd was light, but we’d arrived early on purpose.
“Where’s the booze?” she asked a random guy in a hockey mask.
The mass murderer pointed at a tin tub full of some murky mixture that looked too much like real blood for my comfort. “Seriously?”
He shrugged. “It’s vodka and Kool-Aid, relax.”
There was no way I was drinking that, but I took a cup so Davina wouldn’t think I was a pain in the ass with a mental age of forty. “Is that a DJ over there?”
“Yep. No expense spared. Later, monsters will jump out at us and everyone runs around screaming. The party doesn’t end until somebody calls the cops.”
“But is there cake?” I was trying to be funny with the whole cake-is-a-lie meme.
“That’s only propaganda. The dark side does not have cookies. Come on, let’s rock.”
FOR EVERY ACTION, THERE IS A PUNCH IN THE FACE
The Halloween bash got wild pretty fast. Nobody seemed impressed by my mad scientist gear, but plenty of guys tried to hook up with Davina. She blew them off to stick with me, which I appreciated since I didn’t really know anyone else. By ten, people were hammered, taking off their clothes, making out with questionable partners and barfing in the bushes, usually not all at the same time. Awkward was my middle name as I skulked around the fringes; I had rarely felt more out of place.
I’d thought she was kidding, but a mob in monster masks poured out of the house at eleven. Drunk girls screamed and ran, turning the backyard into pure chaos. Between the shouting and music, I couldn’t think. Davina was dancing on the patio, so I waved to her and gestured that I was going to the bathroom, but from what I’d seen, it was worse indoors. Every available surface was covered in people grinding. Given the other costumes, I could live without seeing more side boob tonight.
Should’ve gone out with Kian.
The thought didn’t cheer me up as I rounded the corner of the house, looking for half an hour of solitude before I dragged Davina out front to wait for her mom. I found a gazebo nestled at the back of the property, where it was dark and quiet. The monsters playing tag on the lawn hadn’t discovered it yet. With a sigh, I sat down on a padded chair before I realized I wasn’t alone.
“Not enjoying the festivities?” From the smell, Cameron had been drinking long before his guests arrived.
“It’s not really my thing.”
“Mine either. Not anymore.” With the careful movements of the totally shitfaced, he set his plastic cup on the floor. “Want to go for a walk?”
With you? Hardly trembled on the tip of my tongue, but his face was so ravaged, I couldn’t kick him when he was already on the ground. “You obviously want to be alone, so let me find somewhere else to hide.”
But he wasn’t listening to me. “I don’t understand how everything went to shit so fast. Last year I had everything. Last year—”
“You hurt me because you could.”
He recoiled like I had punched him in the face. Part of me considered it; no matter how much I wanted to move on, I couldn’t forgive him. Cameron stumbled to his feet, and I jumped up, putting some distance between us. On seeing my reaction, he stopped short, his hands up in some clumsy gesture I couldn’t interpret. Out here, the shadows were too deep for me to read his face.
“Edie—”
When the howl rang out, at first I thought it was more special effects for the party, but Cam looked blank, and two red eyes opened in the darkness behind him. I raised a shaking hand to warn him, and he stumbled. A growl rumbled from the shadows.
“Wild dog?”
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“If you run, I’ll distract it.” He turned slowly.
“That’s a terrible plan. You can’t even walk straight.”
But it happened too fast for me to make it more than two steps. Smoke dogs swirled around Cam’s ankles, real and not-real, hounds born of night with fangs like obsidian and eyes likes windows into hell. With each snap of their teeth, he faded a little more, not blood but shadow, until he was only an outline with a hand thrown out toward me.
“I’m sorry,” the wind whispered. And then it fell silent, too.
A single black dog stepped out of the smoke; this one had full shape and definition, probably gained from the life it stole from Cameron. It studied me with ember eyes, sniffed once, and then trotted away. Teeth chattering, I ran forward, patting the chair where Cam had been sitting, the floor where he’d set his drink, but … he was just … gone. My teeth chattered as I whirled and fled, back toward shrieking monsters and giggling girls.
What the hell just happened? Who can I tell? There was no body, no blood. Halfway there, I had to sit down with my head between my knees. That was where Davina found me, half an hour later. Probably thinking I was drunk, she hauled me to my feet, but when she didn’t smell booze, she tapped my forehead.
“You high?”
“No. I’m freaking out.”
“I can see that. Let’s get you home, little hermit crab.”
Maybe I should’ve corrected her and explained that it wasn’t the party that turned me into a trembling puddle of goo, but I couldn’t find the words. So I sat in the back of her mom’s car and shook, right up until they dropped me off. My thoughts ran in an endless, panicked, disjointed loop. Cameron is gone. Cameron is never coming back. And I was the only one who could give his parents peace of mind, but they wouldn’t believe me.
I saw it, and I wouldn’t either.
I mumbled my way through the parental inquiry, but my dad seemed reassured that I was sober and still wearing a bow tie. Hat tip for his savvy, it was hard to imagine hooking up without taking it off. Five minutes later, I escaped to my room while this fact battered against my brain: You had just thought that you couldn’t forgive him … when the hellhounds appeared. You’re doing this. Somehow.
Because I didn’t know what else to do, I typed “hellhound” and then “black dog” into the search bar; it told me a bunch of legends and lore, including the fact that these dogs were nearly always a portent of death. Since it killed Cameron, that seemed logical. But I never heard any of that before just now, so why would my angry thoughts summon them? Pacing, I raked my hands through my hair. Now that’s the real mad scientist do.
I need to do something. This can’t continue.
Briefly, I considered the solution I’d chosen before, but I couldn’t even complete the thought. I want to live. Maybe it’s wrong, but I just can’t. Not now. A true heroine wouldn’t hesitate to give her life for someone else, but I wasn’t painted with that stripe. Just as I’d come to that place out of weakness, now that my life was good, I couldn’t throw it away, even to save people.
My knees gave out after a while, and I huddled in front of my bed. Around one, I came up with the half-baked idea of going to see Kian since he was only a few blocks away, but reason poked me. Not only would that be stupid and dangerous, I could tell him what happened without leaving the apartment.
So I got my phone and typed, You there?
Yep. How was the party?
Can you come over? By the time I locked the door, he was in my room.
“That’s handy.” Odd. My voice didn’t sound shaky at all.
“You don’t ask me over for ninja visits unless something’s wrong.” He replaced the distance with concern. Five seconds later, I was in his arms. While I recounted Cameron’s last moments, he stroked my back. I finished by asking, “What did I see? Is he dead?”
He hesitated. “I’ve never witnessed anything like that. But if the dogs took him, I suspect the answer is yes.”
“What
am I supposed to do with that?” I demanded. “What about his parents?”
“I have no idea. I wish I did.”
A whimper escaped me. “It’s … I think I’m doing this.” Before he could interrupt with hollow reassurances, I repeated what I had been thinking the instant before. Cameron disappeared—how I couldn’t forgive him. Then it was like my dark reflections translated to instant judgment. “Now tell me that’s a coincidence.”
“It seems unlikely.”
“I can’t deal,” I whispered. “I’m so scared right now.”
Kian murmured something into my hair and tugged me toward the bed. I knew better than to imagine he’d picked this as the perfect time to make his move, so I followed, and he cuddled me against his chest. No telling how long it would take for the party to wind down and for anyone to realize Cameron had vanished. But unlike Russ, there was no body for anyone to find.
If anyone looks.
“I’d do anything to get you out of all this,” he said softly.
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I was just upset enough to tackle the way he had been acting. Again. “What’re you hiding from me?”
“How long have you known?” At least he didn’t try to deny it.
I thought back. “Since just after we went to your new place.”
“I need to give back that trophy for best actor.” He attempted a smile, but too much pain dragged down the corners of his mouth, resulting in more of a grimace.
“Please don’t do anything stupid.”
“Good advice, if it wasn’t already too late.”
“Kian, tell me.”
“I made a deal for your protection,” he blurted.
A spate of words I didn’t even realize I knew—in all-new combinations—tumbled out. “With who?”
“He’s not in the game, but he has leverage. He’s not interested in competing with other immortals. His interests are more … varied.” That wasn’t an answer, and he knew it.
