by Rue Volley
“I love messy. The messier, the better.” She spoke with such a dreamy fervor.
I moaned. “Again, gross.”
“The veil.” She ran her pale fingers across the map.
My eyes wandered toward the window. It was dense jungle as far as the eye could see.
“The veil is folklore, Midnight. It refers to the blue mist that collects in the ravines. Vampires don’t exist. They just don’t.”
“Stop being so negative.” She scoffed.
I spoke through laughter with a wave of my hand. “I’m not, and honestly, you’re the one who loves discovering things, things you can prove existed just like mom does. I don’t, so I find it hilarious that I’m the only level headed one in the room right now.”
She lowered the map and closed her eyes. “Just think about it, Echo. Living forever. So romantic.”
I leaned down into her face. “Tiresome.”
The tilt of her head was met with a childish grin. “We can’t be related.”
I tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “Except for the fact that we look exactly the same.”
“Minor details.” She added, and we both turned our attention to the door when the boy returned with a white box in hand. I could smell the pepperoni and melted cheese.
“Now you’re hot,” I said passionately.
“What?” he asked as I rushed to him and snatched the box out of his hand. I returned to the bed and opened it up. Midnight left me there as she stepped out into the hallway with her new friend.
“Hey!” I called out, and she leaned back in as her long black ponytail slid over her shoulder and dangled in midair.
I shook my folded slice of pizza at her. “Hungry?”
“Yes.” She said with a wink and disappeared from sight.
I grimaced. Honestly, I had no idea where her appetite for boys came from, but it seemed to get worse and worse with each passing day. I cocked my head and shrugged my shoulders. She could do whatever she wanted to; I was going to devour this pizza like it owed me money.
Two hours passed, and I flipped through the channels, finally landing on some random cooking show. The guy poured some liquor into the pan, and the fire shot up into the air almost catching his spiky white hair on fire. He flipped the food, and I eyed the small refrigerator. I had saved some pizza for Midnight, but she hadn’t returned yet. I sat up when the door opened, and she slipped inside. She turned and pressed her back against the door, looking all dreamy.
“There’s cold pizza in the fridge,” I spoke without keeping my eyes on her. I love my sister, but her newfound religion at the altar of temporary love was starting to annoy me.
“I ate.” She made her way over and sat down on the bed next to mine. Her hair was down, and her lips looked swollen. I knew what that meant. She had been making out with this guy. Yuck.
“Oh, yeah?” I have a tendency to be sarcastic when it comes to things like this.
She laughed, pulling her hair back and balling it up with a black hair tie.
“I had some traditional food.” The ball of hair tilted on the top of her head.
My eyebrow rose. “Oh, let me guess. Was it indigenous boy?”
She hit me with a pillow. “Cut it out, and no. We mostly talked.”
“Mostly,” I whispered as I leaned back and rested on the pillow I successfully stole from her.
“Seriously, he’s a guide. He knew a lot about the veil, and he told me about a spot we should check out.”
“So, he’s an expert on vampires; that’s handy, and no, I’m not stepping foot in that jungle.” I know I sounded jealous and maybe I was. I mean, there used to be a time when Midnight and I were inseparable. Now, not so much.
“Yes, he is, and you shouldn’t be so dismissive. It’s rude.”
“Rude? Oh, okay. Not believing in some made up stories about blood sucking creatures is rude?”
She looked over at me and grinned. “You need a boy and some adventure.”
“What’s his name?” I asked.
“What?”
I side eyed her. “His name, did you ask?”
She paused, and I laughed. I lifted the remote and haphazardly flipped through the channels like I could focus on them. “You need to shush.”
She laughed at me. “Oh, come on, Echo. Honestly, don’t you wonder about it?”
I lowered the remote in my hand. “About what, his name? Sure, but then again I would have asked before I allowed him to attack me like a face hugger from Alien.”
She hid her amusement. “Stop, no…how it feels?”
My eyes narrowed. “How what feels?”
“Kissing.” She had locked her eyes onto mine, so I was cornered.
I rubbed the side of my neck as my nerves kicked in. Of course, I wondered about it, but no one had made me want to make out with them as of yet. She continued with her harassment.
“You know, lips pressed together and your heartbeat racing in your chest.” She tapped her chest and added in sound effects. “Thump, thump, thump.”
“Stop it.”
She grinned. “Maybe someday you’ll find your vampire.”
I thought about the many paranormal novels I had devoured this past year. I shook off the thought of something so silly. “And maybe someday you’ll remember a name.”
She swatted at me, and I had to move out of her way. “Do you want that pizza or not?” I asked her when my stomach growled again.
She leaned back and crossed her arms over her chest. “No, you go ahead and eat your emotions.”
I left the bed and walked to the refrigerator, quickly pulling out the box and turning with it in my hands. I shook it. “He may be a caveman, but this pizza was the bomb.”
“That caveman can do things with his tongue that would make you…”
“Ah!” I held my hand up and then sang over her as she went on about the hugging and the kissing. She grabbed her pillow and hugged it, brushing her hand along the top of it.
I sat down and chewed with my mouth open. She grimaced and stopped. I pointed at the pillow in her hand. “I bet this one has a higher IQ.”
“I’ll smack you, Echo.”
I grinned while taking another bite of cold pizza. I waved at her pillow. “Oh, hi, Bob.” I winked at her. “His name is Bob, just in case you wondered.”
“I wouldn’t make out with a Bob. Maybe a Roberto.”
“Oh sure. Like you would know.” I continued to chew, foregoing any manners.
“Way to ruin the mood.” She huffed.
“Sorry.” I grinned as I swallowed. Finally, she joined me and took a slice, quickly nibbling on it.
I half laughed. “I thought love sustained you.”
She nudged me from the side. “Shut up you brat.”
She woke me up late that night, whispering in my ear.
“Echo…Echo. Wake up. I want to show you something.”
I swatted at her, and she giggled. She shook the canister next to my nose, and I could smell the coffee. I perked up.
“You suck,” I muttered while I took a sip of it. She nodded to me. “You won’t regret it, come on.”
“What time is it?”
She ignored my question and grabbed my hand, dragging me from the bed. Luckily I had fallen asleep in my clothing or she would have been pulling me along in my pajamas.
Soon I found myself standing in the dark jungle with strange sounds echoing in the distance and Midnight’s hand firmly gripping mine. She pulled me along, silently as my clumsy feet hit every protruding vine beneath us. Her pace quickened, her grip tightened. I dropped my coffee, and it annoyed me. I jerked on her hand, breaking her hold.
“Why? Why did you bring me here?” I muttered.
She just kept pushing forward.
“Midnight, wait,” I gru
mbled through blurred eyes.
“Come on, I want to show you something amazing, trust me.” I stared at the jungle floor trying to find my coffee. Finally, I did, and as I reached for it, I heard Midnight cry out to me. I stood up, squinting my eyes, trying to allow the full moon to give me some direction.
“Midnight!”
She didn’t respond. Again I yelled into the darkness. “Midnight?!”
I rushed forward, trying to stay upright and then I heard her call out to me.
“Echo! Over here!”
I gasped when I reached the edge of a large ravine. I stood next to her and stared into a blue mist that masked everything below us. The breeze would kick up, and the thick sheet of mist would rise a few feet and then drop back down like a living breathing thing.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
“I know, right? Isn’t it beautiful?” she asked me.
I shook my head. “It is, it really is.”
“If you close your eyes you can hear it.”
“What?” I asked.
“A heartbeat.”
I half laughed. “You cannot.”
“Echo, just try.” She said without laughing.
I glanced at her, and she already had her eyes closed. I decided to give it a try, but just as I relaxed and accepted the fact that I may hear something, the peaceful silence was broken by movement behind us. We both turned to see what it could be and she cried out as her foot slipped over the edge. I spun in horror just in time to see her disappear over the side. I rushed forward, and my eyes widened when I spotted her. She was hanging onto a thick root protruding from the side of the cliff. Instinct flared. I fell to my knees and then laid flat, extending my hand toward her. She looked down and then back up at me. Her eyes captured slivers of the moonlight.
Even then she didn’t look frightened.
Even then, she was brave.
“Take my hand, take it,” I yelled, half out of breath. Her free hand lifted and she clasped it in mine. I felt my heart flutter in my chest as I could hear the root giving way. It budged, spewing dirt and dust down onto her and jerked me forward. I dug my nails into the earth at my side while my grip tightened. Again the root shifted and pulled me further over the edge. Inch by inch, moment by moment, it was begging to claim us and drag us into the unknown.
I moaned as my body moved forward. I stared down at her in horror, sweat glistening on my face and neck. I could feel the strain in my arm, shoulder, and back. The tips of my shoes desperately dug into the ground but found nothing that could stabilize me.
Her expression was calm.
No fear, no regrets.
I didn’t know that she had made her choice without consulting me.
The root gave way, and I cried out as she dangled there from my hand. I felt her grip loosen and my heart sank. I was losing her.
I wasn’t strong enough.
I was never strong enough.
“No…no, help me, please, help me,” I cried out through gritted teeth. I inched forward while gravity played havoc with us. “No, no,” I repeated as if my words outweighed reality. The top half of my body was inching forward with each passing moment. I couldn’t find anything to grab onto so that she would have the opportunity to climb. I just didn’t have the strength to do it myself.
Her eyes softened, and she tilted her head. “Echo.”
I tried to focus on her through the sheer terror of the moment.
“Midnight, please…please help me.”
“Live.” She whispered and then she let go.
My hand extended toward her while her body disappeared into the mist, silent and peaceful.
No screams, no sound at all.
She was just gone, taking my heart with her.
Prologue
These carefully painted black fingernails white-knuckled the edge of the cover, wide-eyed, cautiously whispering, “It was always you,” through cherry-red lips. The sweet taste lingered on my tongue. I feel like I’ve been here so many times before, yet I know I haven’t. My heart beats harder in my chest. My pupils dilate. This love is my love. My love always. I’m caught at the ending, forever tumbling. I nearly forget to breathe. It should be second nature, but for me, it isn’t. Not when I’m reading.
Butterflies fluttered, filling my gut, then radiating outward. My expression went from blank to hard-focused. “You better not say something snarky and ruin this. I swear, if you do, I’ll crawl right inside this book!” I closed my eyes. The anticipation was terrible. I could barely stand it, so I opened one eye, then the other, and welcomed a huge sigh of relief.
Sort of.
That’s it. The story had ended, taking with it my heart.
Breathe, Harper. Just breathe.
This is the journey you wanted to take.
The story you love.
The characters who became family.
I flipped the page back and forth to make sure that I had read every precious word. My shoulders slumped. A strange emptiness began to spread through my stomach, snuffing out the swirling butterflies, suffocating them without warning. One lit by me, beckoning me to follow. I nearly reached out for it, but I refrained. I didn’t want to damage it. It seemed so delicate. I couldn’t bear bringing it harm, but I wanted to hold it in my hand. To feel it move—to feel life.
Sometimes I don’t feel like I’m really living at all—just going through the motions, every day moving into the next like one endless loop. But today is different. I can feel it in every fiber of my being.
My bright green eyes locked on it as the sunlight penetrated the wings, brightening the colors: blue, purple, with hints of green—nearly blinding me. Tears moistened my eyes, blurring my vision. My skin tingled, and the hairs rose on the back of my neck. It felt like a rebirth. Today would be different from the rest. The old replaced by new. I was forever changed; so much so, that I wondered if my reflection would look oddly unfamiliar.
I drew the book in, cradling it against my chest. I didn’t want it to be over. It couldn’t be over, but it was. I was plagued by temptation, so I feverishly re-read the last page again. It fixed nothing. The emptiness remained. It’s a feeling that only a vetted member of a dedicated book tribe can understand. I love these characters. I love this world. But mostly, I love him.
I’m smitten by a boy—a dead one.
Dead boy, as in immortal book boyfriend of the supernatural kind.
I had met him in book two of this series when I was eleven, fallen for him when I was twelve, became obsessed when I was thirteen, then ultimately decided he was the one when I was fourteen. Now, here I am at fifteen, and that was the last words, last line—last book?
I insist that the author gives us more.
My heartbeat sped up. I bit my lip, tasting cherry lip gloss. I’m on the verge of a complete meltdown. I swallowed hard, trying to bury my emotions, but the tide is rising.
Ah, yep. I’m going to cry. I sniffled. The first cold tear ran down my cheek. I hate showing emotions, but I guess I’m about as alone as I can be, so why not get it all out while I can? At least here amongst the dead, I won’t be judged. Or maybe I am, but I don’t know it, and that’s fine. I whimpered, then more tears followed.
Wrecked is what I am. Utterly wrecked.
I closed my eyes and could see him with that messy hair and brooding eyes nestled in thick dark lashes. He has perfect lips, pouty, crimson red, of course. He’s perfectly imperfect. Intolerable, charming, sarcastic—irresistible.
But most of all, he’s immortal—sigh.
Admittingly, these are words borrowed from the author, but I feel every single one of them. She made sure of that. Her obsession with him became mine. I wanted more—always more.
Thoughts paused with the rustling of leaves. A small multi-colored patch swirled in the wind. I studied it with a wary eye. The
season had changed, bringing chilled bursts of wind and darkening clouds. A million leaves had fallen, and yet the trees still held onto more than you would think possible. It was always this way, for as long as I could remember.
Always October. My favorite month. I ignore the rest.
I drifted for a second as the words echoed in my mind, then cautiously regained my composure, while clearing my throat to the side of my hand. It hurt to swallow, and I felt tired. It’s so annoying. I never feel that great, so reading is a perfect distraction. I have allergies, exacerbated by my surroundings. We live like hermits, or as close to as possible. Our town was built in a thick, dense forest. We have trees on every street, every corner—everywhere.
Old wise trees with thick trunks and gnarly branches. A perfect backdrop for anything Victorian in nature.
I don’t hate them, but they sort of hate me—or my sinuses, that is. Come to think of it, everyone sneezes or coughs here. It’s so common that it’s ignored.
The dancing leaves stopped, and it allowed me to think about my book again, so I settled back into deep thought as my thumb caressed the cover. It has a matte finish. Smooth to the touch. Soothing. I find books to be more reliable than people and much more enjoyable. They don’t ask for anything, really—just attention, and I’m happy to oblige.
I turned the book over and stared at the picture of the author. She looks so—normal, for lack of a better word, with her short black bangs and thick-rimmed glasses that appear to be clinging to her button nose. I guess I expected her to look more witchy or something.
Maybe more like me since I seem to relate to her on a level that’s nearly unexplainable.
I mean, she had created the most incredible landscape speckled with Victorian houses, cobbled streets, iron gates, and supernatural creatures that I had ever known. A beautiful fantasy of which I had become immersed.
Willfully, sort of. I mean, she’s also to blame for my current corrupted state.
She spent years making me love him. This beautiful dead boy in her books had enticed me to hang on his every word. She allowed him to come and go, angering me, then forced a gasp to escape my lips with his triumphant return. But there was always a twist of events, which both infuriated and delighted me.
