Emma gathered up the bag of scones in her arms. “Have fun on your date.”
She darted out the door before her mom had time to say anything else, and headed across the green stretch of lawn between her house and Cash’s studio, a little steel building next to his much-larger house. A steady stream of some kind of rock music that made my eyes twitch and my head hurt vibrated the metal walls. The door was propped open, and paint fumes drifted out into the open air.
She shook her head and set the small paper sack of the pumpkin scones inside, then left without a word. He didn’t notice her. He usually didn’t when he was practically making love to one of canvases with a paintbrush.
“This…” Easton appeared beside me cocooned in a cloud of smoke. “This might be the most boring thing I’ve ever experienced.”
I sighed.
“You seriously do this every day?” he asked. “Follow her around like this?”
“Yes.” I climbed into Emma’s worn-out Jeep Wrangler and settled into the tiny bench seat behind her.
He sank down beside me and grinned. “At least tell me you get to watch her shower?”
“I thought I asked you to stop following me around.” Emma twisted the radio louder so I raised my voice. “Surely someone out there is in need of a lift to Hell.”
“Nope.” Easton propped his feet up on the empty passenger seat in front of him. “I’m on a break.”
“Lucky me.” I rolled my eyes. “How long are you going to do this?”
He shrugged and studied the gray felt ceiling. “I’ve been at it for two years, so yeah. As long as it takes for you to see reason.”
“Great.” I stared out the window at the cars passing by, the pine trees behind them melting into a bright green blur. A big truck with a Summerfield Peach Farm logo idled to a rumbling stop beside us at a traffic light, then surged forward again, taking part of me with it. I could almost feel the shuddering of the tractor beneath my thighs. Smell the bittersweet fragrance that a batch of ripe peaches lent to the breeze. When I closed my eyes, I could even see Pop. A crisp flannel shirt on Sunday morning. The white, crinkled laugh lines at the edges of his eyes. Proof that he did indeed smile. He always hated that the sun gave him away like that, like it made him look too soft.
“Hellooooo. Earth to Finn!” Easton snapped his fingers in front of my face.
I blinked away the memory then stuffed it back in its box, wondering how in the hell it had gotten out in the first place.
Easton nodded to the empty front seat, then to Emma trudging across the parking lot littered with kids. A light spattering of rain was dusting the windows, making it hard to see her as she disappeared like a needle in a haystack of high school students. “I don’t want to worry you, but…” He hesitated. “I saw a redhead in the crowd with the kids. I know it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Maeve—” I hopped up and slid through the closed door, Easton right behind me. Cold metal sizzled through me, leaving a metallic-tasting tang on my tongue. As soon as the air hit me I felt it. Felt her.
No way in hell was I letting Maeve get past me again. Not after how close she’d gotten this morning.
“It might not have been her, Finn,” Easton continued. “It was probably just a kid with red hair.
What do I know?”
My skin prickled. My insides burned. “It’s her.”
A clap of thunder pulsed through the sky. Before the mirror incident this morning, it had been a couple of weeks since Maeve last came sniffing around Emma, but I never let my guard down. This was no exception. I pressed into the crush of students just as my scythe began to burn cold at my hip.
The pull blasted through me like ice. I doubled over and clutched my side.
“Stop fighting it,” Easton called out behind me. “I can watch her if you want.”
“I can’t,” I gritted out, feeling bits and pieces of myself slip away like dust siphoned away by a gust of wind. I vaguely heard the school bell ring. Good. Even though it meant the shadows would get to the other soul before I would, I couldn’t leave Emma now. I had to see her go inside before I took this reap.
I spotted Emma on the steps. Just a few more feet and she’d be through that door and safe. Well, safer than she’d be out here in the open. Maeve wouldn’t risk messing with her in a room full of people.
But she wasn’t taking those vital steps. The crowded courtyard had already mostly cleared. Emma stalled, one hand on the door, lost in conversation with another girl.
A giggle like glass echoed down from the rooftop.
Easton cursed.
High above where Emma stood, Maeve tiptoed along the gutter, balancing like a tightrope walker in a circus. She winked at me, then hopped on top of the giant metal bobcat sign that hung above the school entrance. I’m sure when they placed it there, they were thinking of team spirit and student morale. All I saw was a weapon with Maeve’s finger on the trigger.
“Hey Finn!” Maeve hollered. Her bright red hair ruffled in the breeze, the sun glinting from the strands that had been blanched to a dull silver color. Her green cotton dress clung to her pale knees.
Even from here, I could see the dark, hollow look settling into her eyes. The ashy color of her skin.
The beginning of her transition into a shadow. “You think she’ll go splat? I want to find out.”
Maeve reached down and pulled at one of the cables. Pop. The big bobcat groaned as it tilted off-balance. Like a ballet dancer, she leaped and twirled, then reached down again. Pop. Souls only got stronger with age. And it seemed Maeve was intent on showing me just how strong she’d gotten.
“I’ve got to get Emma out of there.”
Easton stilled. The grip that I hadn’t even realized he had on my arm tightened. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”
The brunette girl talking to Emma waved and slipped through the glass doors. The last of the students vanished into the hallway.
A loud snap cracked through the air and my heart lurched. The big metal mascot banner tumbled loose from the brick wall and I ripped my arm from Easton’s grasp.
Maeve wasn’t just going to hurt Emma, she was going to kill her.
All I could see, think, or feel was Emma. Sprinting up the steps, I sucked in a deep breath and filled my hollow lungs with air, forced the walls in my chest to hold it there. I willed my skin into existence without thought, only need. Emma looked up, horror registering on her face. I squeezed my eyes shut and barreled into her, knocking her over the railing, where we toppled onto a blanket of grass.
With a deafening crash, the sign behind us skidded across the concrete steps, splintering into sparks and blades. I lay there for a few seconds, stunned by the feel of Emma’s solid warmth beneath me, the hectic swell of her lungs pumping against my chest. I was…touching her. Her sapphire-blue eyes stared back into mine. Our noses nearly touched. Her peppermint breath clung to my lips.
“You can see me,” I said, breathless.
“Of course I can see you.” Emma glanced over my shoulder, but she didn’t make a move. “Your face is practically touching my face. It would be kind of hard not to see you.”
I could barely answer. The impossibility of what was happening drowned me. Did she remember me? God, please let her remember me. I dug my fingers into the grass on either side of her face. “The sign…it fell.”
“Yeah.” Emma gulped and wriggled beneath me. “I can see that.”
She didn’t remember. I rolled off her, trying not to feel disappointed, just as Easton plowed through the bushes beside us like smoke. “Finn. I’m sorry man—” He looked back and forth between Emma and me and took a step back. “What did you do?”