He stops his make-out session abruptly. “What?”
“I didn't say anything, baby,” Jill answers. She goes right back to kissing his face, his neck, his collarbone.
I look him right in the eyes, trying with all my heart to make him understand. “If you feel anything for me—anything at all, you'll leave with me now. Please.”
He searches my face, and then his eyes close for a moment, as though in pain. He gently pushes Jill away.
She sits up with a confused expression. “What's wrong?”
He gazes at her, a frown forming as he studies her at arm's length. “Jill, Your aura. It's... muddy.”
“My aura?” she repeats. “So what?”
“It's just that it's... a brown color.” He pushes her back further to scrutinize her face.
“What's that supposed to mean?” she says with a glare, her jaw clenching.
He squints as though trying to get a better look, as though trying to clear up a puzzle. “I've never seen it like this before.”
She shakes her head. “Don't start with that crap again, Brecken. You know I don't believe in it.”
“We've talked about this before, Jill. It's not like you don't know I see it,” he says. “It helps me know what people are feeling, what you're feeling.”
Anger radiates from her. She's ready to explode, but instead of screaming, she smiles. “You're right, Brecken. You're always right. You're obviously not ready to embrace this, so we'll do something different instead. Okay?”
Brecken releases a breath and nods. “Sure. But I really should get going. I don't like leaving Heidi and Sophie for so long.”
“Yeah, I know,” she says. “Will you do me just one favor before you go? Close your eyes for one second.”
With a reluctant sigh, he says, “All right, but this has to be quick.”
“Oh, it will be.”
Jill takes her fangs and dips them into a shallow bowl of liquid that sits on the table. She blows them dry, and before I can blink, she places them in her mouth, bends forward, and sinks the needle-like fangs deep into Brecken's bicep.
His eyes fly open and he shoves her away. “Ow! Damn it, Jill!” He stares at the puncture which blossoms red on his arm. His eyes flick to mine in confusion.
Jill steps away.
After a few seconds, Brecken falls forward, one hand reaching out for balance, his other hand rubbing his glazed, sleepy eyes. With a moan, he lets himself fall all the way to the floor, his head bumping against the carpet-covered cement.
Jill is motionless, staring at Brecken's prone figure, a serious expression on her usually dim-witted face. She says nothing.
Kneeling at Brecken's side, my hands flutter desperately as my mind whirls, searching for a solution. I come up with nothing. I'm horrified that Jill would hurt someone she supposedly loves. What kind of a person can react so coldly, with such calculation?
After a moment, she wraps her long, white fingers around his wrist, checking his pulse. She shows no sign of worry. Only the frigid expression of an ice-queen. She lays Brecken out flat and adjusts his arms. Then, instead of bandaging his seeping bicep, she pulls his arm out to the side and lays her head on his chest. She wraps his arm around her, and places her lips on the delicate skin around the wound.
And sucks.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
~Her Darkness Revealed~
Alisa
There is no way I can sit back and watch Jill drink Brecken's blood. And even though I've never tried to force my will on anyone, I know my mind has more power in one square centimeter than she has in her whole body. At least, that's what was told in Idir Shaol. I can supposedly make things happen by sheer force of will, but I've never tried it. I've never felt a need to.
With my hands fisted, every bit of fine matter in my spirit is focused on Jill. Narrowing my eyes so I can see only her, I picture a white-hot dart of fury, flying like a bullet from my mind into hers, exploding in the soft recesses of her buttery brain.
Nothing happens.
She continues to suck, a serene expression gracing her blissfully oblivious face. I can't even describe how she sickens me. I close my eyes, forcing a calm to come over me, forcing my mind to slow down—this time without the interference of frustration or anger—and send a silent message into her mind.
“Stop.”
A strange expression comes over Jill's face, and her sucking slows. Her brows knit together in question, she sits up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. The sudden burst of energy I'd used is gone, and I fall forward onto my hands, fatigued, limp, and mentally exhausted. I can hardly move as I watch the scene unfold in slow motion. Jill grabs a Band-Aid and unceremoniously rips it open, slapping it down on the white skin of Brecken's inner arm. She lies down next to him, snuggling close to his side while the candles burn, flickering lower and lower, their melted wax making a thick puddle on the table.
Dark shadows dance on the heavy quilts, and no sounds filter down from upstairs. Where are her parents? Doesn't anyone care where she is or what she does? When I was alive, my mother knew everything that went on in her house, where each of us was, and what we were doing. I swear she was psychic. I figured all moms had that gift.
After a moment, Jill falls asleep on the hard ground, a blanket spread over them. I kneel before Brecken and smooth my ghost-like fingers down his cheek. He looks so peaceful, like an innocent little boy, like he must have looked as a child. Then I remember his sisters. He needs to wake up! He needs to get out of here. “Brecken! Wake up!”
He doesn't respond. He breathes in and out, his chest rising and falling, his lashes fluttering against his pale cheek. I'll have to wait for him to wake up on his own. Time slides by at a snail's pace. The one lone window across the room is small, and creates shadows that pass over us with the setting of the sun. Still, there's no movement or sound from upstairs.
Finally, Brecken begins to stir. His eyes flicker, an agonized groan escapes his lips, and he turns on his side, waking up Jill. He blinks repeatedly, his hand raised to his forehead.
Jill sits up in a hurry, fully cognizant. “Brecken? Are you okay?” She's full of concern as she brushes his hair from his forehead.
Oh, to stomp on her, to rip her hair out. To bite her arm!
“Baby. I was so worried!” She leans forward and kisses his lips tenderly, then traces them with her long, white fingers.
Seeing her touch him, lie to him, does something to me, and I snap. An uncontrollable righteous fury rises up inside me, and the only thing I see is her neck squeezed by my unrelenting fingers. I spring for her, determined to take her down, to pound her face into the cement floor.
But in spite of my indignation, I fly right through her and the quilt that hangs as a makeshift wall. I roll to a stop next to the wine bottles that line the basement shelves.
Rising, I stare at the blanket I barreled through. It sways back and forth. For a moment I'm mesmerized, watching the to and fro vacillation of the quilt. I made it move. I affected something in the physical world. Feeling stronger and even more determined than I had a moment ago, I stomp back inside the comfortable, candlelit room to witness Jill helping Brecken to a seated position. With her arm around him, she whispers words I can't hear.
I don't have time to figure it out. Brecken needs to wake up and get out of here before Jill decides she's hungry again. I kneel before Brecken, placing my hands over his, staring straight into his eyes. “Brecken, can you hear me? Can you see me?”
“Huh?” His head lolls with dizziness. “What happened?”
“You tripped on the rug and fell.” Jill's explanation is ridiculous. He'll never believe it. He's not an idiot. “You hit your head pretty hard.”
“I did?”
“Yeah, hun, you did, and if I hadn't been so worried, I would have laughed. You looked so funny at first, but you were only out for a minute. Everything's all right now. Can you get up?”
“Yeah. Sure.” He shakes his head and tries to stand but loses his b
alance and stumbles forward, his hand catching on the low table. The candles sway, spilling their melted wax. Jill is quick to slip under his arm, taking his weight.
“Ow,” he groans, noticing his bandaged arm for the first time.
“You cut yourself,” she said. “You don't remember? Wow, baby, you must have hit your head hard.”
That lying, sneaky, little... I bite my tongue and my chest heaves. Can't he see through her? Boys are beyond stupid. Dead or alive. My temper boils and there's nothing more frustrating than being helpless.
“Brecken, can you hear me?” I ask again.
He takes a step up the stairs. “Yeah.” He answers with slurred detachment. His hands slide along the walls, grasping at the loose railing that rocks under his weight.
“You need to get home as soon as possible. Your sisters need you.” He's not really clear minded enough to listen, but maybe thinking of his sisters will get him to move faster. He has such a soft spot for them. “You're dad's working late and they're getting scared. We have to hurry!”
“Yeah, okay. Hurry,” he says, stumbling on the top stair.
“What?” Jilly turns to glance into his eyes.
“I need to get home.”
She helps him to a chair at the kitchen table where he plops down, his elbows resting on the tabletop, holding his head. Rocking back and forth, he groans looking like he might pass out again.
“I'll make you some herbal tea before you go. How does that sound?” Jill says.
“My head is killing me.”
“I'm not surprised with the thumping you gave it.” She smiles at him, then takes a cup from the cupboard and drops a dry teabag in. She fills it with water and places it in the microwave. “This will be done in one minute.” Taking down a bottle of Ibuprofen, she shakes out two white tablets. “Here. These should help.” She sets a cold glass of water before him.
Brecken takes the pills without question.
What an idiot.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
~Stupid Boy~
Alisa
The pills don't kill Brecken so they really must have been ibuprofen, but I'll never trust Jill again. She's not who she appears to be, her pretty face and perfect body covering up a dark and putrid heart. I know what her future holds if she doesn't do some drastic changing. She'll get a condo complete with a lava-filled hot tub right next to Mr. Roland.
After Brecken finishes his peppermint tea, she drives us home. I sit in the backseat and fume. Brecken's eyes are still slightly glazed even after she dumps him onto his living room couch. He lies there exhausted while she kisses his forehead.
“See you later, Breck. Hope you feel better.”
“Yeah,” I murmur as she closes his front door. “Later.”
The dark circles beneath Brecken's eyes give him a hollow, ethereal look in the dim light of evening, and he probably won't remember any sort of conversation, but I can't wait any longer. “Brecken. We need to talk.”
“Huh? Where are you?” He lifts his head and searches the living room. His sisters are nowhere around.
“I'm sitting in the tan La-Z-Boy.” I move closer to sit right in front of him on the coffee table. “Can you see me now?”
“Uh... yeah. Kinda.” His head falls back to the couch cushion. “Man, my head is killin' me.”
“That's because she drugged you.”
He squints and turns to his side, his cheek resting on his hand. “What?”
With a loud sigh and rolling eyes, I try to control my irritation. All sorts of sharp remarks are on the tip of my tongue, ready to spill over in a polluted downpour. I should wait to have this conversation, but I don't want to. He needs to know who Jill really is. “Jill told you that you pricked yourself with those stupid teeth things. Remember?”
“Yeah, and that I tripped on the carpet.”
“Well, you didn't. She drugged you, and bit your arm, then sucked your blood like a freakin' vampire. I watched the whole thing.”
He says nothing for a moment. “That's... stupid.”
“No kidding.”
“Jilly would never do that.”
I scowl at his stupidity. Never have I met anyone so blind or dense. “Why would I lie? I'm here to protect you.”
He starts to nod, and then a sly grin spreads across his face. He wags his finger in my face. “You're jealous, aren't you? You're trying to make her look bad so I won't like her anymore.”
Oh. My. Word. “You're an idiot.”
“You think I'm se-xy. You want to kii-iiss me,” he sings, the asinine grin still on his face. He falls back to a velvety pillow and chuckles.
My mouth opens and closes. Nothing witty springs to my mind. How dare he accuse me of... of... liking him!
“I knew it,” he says. “It's cool. I get it. Lots of girls like me.” He smiles stupidly, and his eyes close like he might fall asleep.
Fury burns in my chest and I let the flood spill forth without censor. “You really are dumb, aren't you? And just so we're clear, I don't want to kiss you, I don't think you're sexy, and I don't like you. Do you know why?”
“Why?”
I lean forward so he can see me clearly, our faces only inches apart. “Because... you're an idiot!”
***
I leave Brecken on the couch and reappear at the hospital next to my mother's bed. I have to get away from him, from his crooked smile and condemning words.
My mom sits alone, staring out the window. The TV is on, but she's not paying attention to it. Neither my brothers nor my dad are here to keep her company. I take her hand and brush it with my cheek. “You look better, Mom.” She can't hear me, but maybe she can sense me like she did at my funeral. “You gave us quite a scare,” I whisper.
She turns, a thoughtful expression on her face.
“Yeah, I'm here. Don't ever take those pills again.”
She takes a deep breath, and tears fill her eyes.
“Oh, Mom. It's okay.” The sting of invisible tears burn my own eyes as I climb onto the bed next to her. I lay my head on her chest with my arm around her waist like I used to when I was little. Memories rush to the forefront of my mind, memories that carry scents of cookies, Christmas, and bedtime stories. I close my eyes and breathe her in, hoping never to forget this feeling... just in case I never get the chance to be with her like this again.
I used to come home from school or a night out with Natty, and get in Mom's bed to tell her all about my day. She'd stroke my hair, nodding and commenting. That's how it feels now. Like she'll place her hand on my head any minute and wrap my hair around her fingers... like she used to.
She begins to speak, as though she knows I'm there, and her voice grows in strength. “Oh, Alisa. Where are you?”
Her question fills the silence and then she says, “You were so beautiful. I miss your smile, your beautiful brown eyes.” She sighs, and a pregnant tear drips down her pale cheek. “I'm so sad all the time,” she whispers to the wall.
“It's not your fault, Mom. It's no one's fault.” My words sound empty. Even to me.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
~The Oldest Emotion~
Brecken
It takes a while for Brecken's head to clear, and the headache that pounds inside his brain keeps sledging away. He reclines on the couch with a package of frozen peas pressed to his forehead and tries to remember his conversation with Alisa.
He vaguely remembers arguing with her, but that is nothing new. He remembers her accusing Jill of drugging him, but he can't quite get it straight, because Jill wouldn't do that. She loves him. In fact, she has loved him for a long time, and he loves her too. But since Alisa arrived, some of his feelings for Jill have changed. He still cares about her, but it isn't that powerful rush of passion like before. Jill is beautiful, a close friend, comfortable and easy to talk to. Someone he shares a past with.
He's not certain what Alisa's problem is, but he's pretty sure it revolves around jealousy, and that changes everything. At least for h
im. He's mad that she left again, and he'll give her the cold shoulder when she comes back, just to make her squirm, but then they'll get over it.
He has felt drawn to Alisa from the beginning. There has always been something different about her, something intriguing, and thinking that maybe she's jealous of his closeness to Jill...Well, that is just plain interesting.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
~First Touch~
Alisa
“You were gone a long time,” Brecken says as soon as I show up. He's on the couch watching TV, staring straight ahead so he doesn't have to look at me. From the tightness of his shoulders and the set of his jaw, I can tell he's upset.
Not wanting to argue, I plop down in the La-Z-Boy recliner with a heavy sigh. “So, how are things?”
“Don't you think it's kind of rude to just leave like that?” He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the TV.
“Umm, no. You were totally out of it.”
“No?” He sits up and peers around the room, his eyes finally finding me. “You say all those... things, then disappear, and you don't think it's rude?”
A prick of irritation stabs at me, but I rein it in, not wanting another uncomfortable confrontation. “If you want to talk about rude, how about we refresh your memory, Brecken.” I march over and stand before him with my hands on my hips. “If I recall correctly, you basically called me a liar.”
“I did not!”
“Yes, you did. You didn't believe one thing I said about Jill, and I wasn't lying.”
“Who are you talking to?” Sofia asks, sauntering into the room. She goes straight to the fridge and stares into its vast emptiness.
“No one,” Brecken answers, sullen.
“I heard you,” she says, going back to her room with a yogurt cup. “Are you sick again?”
With a tired sigh he tells her no, and then lies back down, turning toward me.
I feel sorry for him. It would be terrible having your family think you were psycho when you weren't. I sit on the coffee table before him. “Brecken?” I resist the urge to brush his hair from his forehead, not that I can, but I want to. He seems vulnerable, a little boy. His eyes search mine, their deep blue enhanced by the lamplight. His lips part like he's about to speak, but he doesn't. I find a yearning in his eyes I don't understand and can't explain. I want to pull away, to run like normal, but I force myself to stay seated on the table. “I'm sorry,” I say. “I didn't mean to hurt you.”
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