In fact, not expecting me, he hurried past and then whipped around, like he might’ve imagined me. I managed a weak smile. “Hey, way.”
“Are you waiting for me?” he asked, butterfly-tentative.
“Nope.”
“Then what are you doing?”
“Sitting.” I sounded giddy, goofy, even, I couldn’t stop giggling. “Hitting.”
“Edie?” He crossed to me in a few steps, leaned in with a look of dismay gradually dawning. “Jesus Christ. I smell him on you.”
“True blue. I’ve been dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight, didn’t go down without a fight.”
His voice trembled. “Did it touch you?”
“Don’t fear the worst, I got him first. I can’t fight monsters with guns or knives, but it seems I can with my mind.” With trembling hands, I made dual finger-guns and fired. “I fought the law and I won. See, this is my wheelhouse, son.”
Why the hell am I rhyming all the things? That’s probably not a good sign.
“You can’t survive touching the thin man.” Kian seemed frozen with horror. “At least, not with your mind intact.”
I smiled up at him, though my face felt stiff and strange. After a few seconds, I shook off the Cockney rhyming daze, keeping my reply simple as weary pride bloomed.
“But I did.”
THE PAWN IN PLAY
It was nearly a week before my brain recovered fully from my encounter with the thin man. In the meantime, I flunked my first test ever. Ironically, it was in Intro to Japanese. Ryu laughed when I told him, while Vi was quietly concerned. I pretended to be nonchalant while panicking in secret. The truth was, I’d tried studying, but my mind was like a saturated sponge, incapable of absorbing any new information.
Slowly, however, the side effects wore off and my head returned to normal. Rather than have my parents find out, I begged my teacher to let me take a makeup test or do extra credit. She wasn’t on board with grading extra projects, but given the problems at Blackbriar recently, she cut me some slack because she’d seen me with Brittany and Russ. Now with Jen gone and Cameron MIA, she saw the writing on the wall. The second time I took the exam, I got a B. Not my usual A+, but I kept that score. Under the circumstances, I had to perform some triage, cut myself some slack for not pulling A + s when my life was imploding.
When word circulated that Cameron had taken off, I wanted to tell someone what I knew, but I had no idea what to say. The truth would get me locked up, and admitting I was with him when it happened might turn me into a murder suspect, though they couldn’t convict me without a body. The dog-girl video gave me clear motive, and gossip could be vicious. So I choked down my desire to confess and kept quiet.
Two weeks into November, things went from bad to worse at school. It started in first period; Nicole was sitting at her desk as usual. No matter how early I arrived, she was always there, and I was starting to wonder if she slept in Mr. Love’s room. He was talking to a couple of other students, but I sensed that he was aware of her … and darkly amused. Allison strolled in—why, I had no idea since she didn’t even have Lit—and propped a hip against his desk. In comparison, she was a tropical flower whereas Nicole had become a sepia photo.
Allison said something to Mr. Love, pitched too low for the rest of us to catch, but he laughed quietly. Nic’s head came up, and her eyes narrowed. She stormed from her desk to his, scowling at Allison, who threw her a mocking look. Then, deliberately, Allison touched Mr. Love on the arm to catch his attention.
Nicole snapped. With a snarl, she whipped a switchblade out of her pocket and slashed. Allison skittered back but not in time; red bloomed through the sleeve of her blazer. Another girl screamed while someone else ran for the headmaster. Allison wrapped a hand around the wound and I shrugged off my jacket, offering to her as Mr. Love grabbed Nicole’s arms. Too slow, asshole. You wanted this.
Nic screamed the minute he touched her, the raw, wordless cry of an animal in pain. At first she struggled and fought like a crazy thing, but by the time the headmaster arrived, she was sobbing with snot streaming down her chin. In the chaos of so many people talking at once, trying to explain what happened, I escorted Allison to the nurse. But we were only halfway there when she unwrapped my blazer from her wounded arm and gave it back.
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a scratch.”
The blood that gushed from that slice said otherwise. “I’m pretty sure you need to go to the hospital for some stitches.”
Her green eyes held a mocking light. “Do I?”
Then she showed me the blood-smeared skin. Sure, it was stained red, but there was no wound. “That’s impossible.”
“Not so much, human girl. They seem completely human, but tragedy, discord, and despair follow in their wake. You will know these demons because they are not born of woman and have no navel.” With a faintly feline smile, she tugged up her school shirt to show me smooth skin.
Jen saw you looking up psychic vampires. And it was Jen who brought you into the group. Is she … did she…? I had no proof that she was actually in Thailand, and I hated the fear and doubt that swamped me.
“It’s tough not knowing who your true friends are,” Allison said sweetly.
“You? I was so sure it was him,” I blurted.
Her lazy smile didn’t shift. “He’s a monster but not one of ours.”
I glanced at her wrists, but they were unmarked.
“What faction are you?” I demanded.
She smirked. “Don’t you get it? Every game needs spectators.”
“But … my ears don’t ring around you.” To my surprise, she didn’t seem confused.
“Some of us are … natural to the world, not dreamed up by humans. And we don’t set off alarm bells in those predisposed to sensitivity.”
“Ah.” That made sense. “But … Russ, before he died—”
“Humans who are feeding a nightmare become attuned to the predator.”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know how a chameleon changes colors?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s like that, only in a parasitic exchange the human gives off a … false positive. To someone like you.”
Allison fixed her blouse and sauntered toward the main office. “I’m done tutoring you now. Thanks for the help.” Such pleasure in the last two words.
How does—whatever she is—reproduce? No belly button. Quickly I ran through what I knew, biologically speaking. Parthenogenesis, asexual, gemmules, sporulation—that one gave me a shivery twinge—budding, regeneration. Dammit. It’s not like I can figure this out now. I had so many questions, though she’d answered a few.
Obviously I had miscalculated, so I raced back to Lit class, where things had calmed down a little, but no learning took place that morning. Since one student had attacked another, the police questioned everyone and they took a dim view of why there were no security screenings like in public schools; they didn’t seem persuaded that affluent students were less prone to hurting each other, given today’s events. The headmaster wore a hunted look as he foresaw his prestigious school reputation swirling down the drain. In the end, he dismissed us early, probably so he could consult his attorneys, find out about liability, and decide the best spin on this mess when he talked to the board.
Instead of rushing out along with everyone else, I headed for Lit. Part of me suspected the instigator would’ve already run off, but I found him packing his briefcase like nothing had happened. When he saw me in the doorway, he smiled.