Authors: V.B. Marlowe

A Girl Called Dust (29 page)

BOOK: A Girl Called Dust

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She nodded toward the farmhouse. “If you
want them to live, Fletcher included, you’ll come with me. I can help you,
Arden. I can teach you how to kill. I’m good at it.”

Bailey raised the needle and stepped
toward me. If I ran toward the farmhouse, I would put everyone else in danger.
If I ran into the woods, at least there would be places to hide. The
possibility of getting away. I shoved her and ran into the trees, dodging roots
and low-hanging branches as I moved.

“Arden!” she screeched, but I didn’t stop.

I couldn’t see in the darkness, so I used
my hands to feel around me, which slowed me down.

“You can’t outrun me,” Bailey called. She
sounded way too close.

We moved deeper and deeper into the woods.
As my feet pounded against the cold, hard ground, I felt as if I was running
faster than I ever had. I glanced over my shoulder to see how much distance was
between Bailey and me, but that was a big mistake. I tripped over a fallen log
stretched out in front of me. I landed on my hands and knees, and they scraped
against rocks and sharp twigs.

Bailey used my fall to her advantage,
leaping over the log and straddling me. She was so much stronger than me as she
pinned me down with one hand and held the needle above me with the other.

“Bailey, no!”

“It’ll just put you out so I can take care
of business at the farmhouse. It won’t hurt.”

She was going to kill everyone no matter
what.

I went over my limited options. If I let
her stick me with that needle, she would kill everyone in the farmhouse. My
only other choice was to stop her permanently.

Around us, branches shook. Howling came
from somewhere in the distance. I used both hands to keep Bailey’s hand with
the needle away from my throat. Grunting and pushing, I didn’t know how long I
could keep her off.

A light shone from behind Bailey’s head.
She paused, looking over her shoulder, but she didn’t lighten the force she
used on me.

“Hey, what are you guys doing out here?” a
voice called.

Bruce Wiley had the worst timing ever.

His voice sounded closer. “You guys have
been out here for a while. I know what that means. If you got some grass, you
need to share.”

Wiley shone the flashlight from his phone
on us. “Oh, shit,” he said. “Are you guys fighting or . . . what’s happening?” He
looked as if he’d done enough smoking for the night.

“Go away, Wiley,” I told him, straining,
but he stood there watching us.

Ignoring Wiley, Bailey brought her face
closer to mine. “It’s nice not to have to keep secrets from each other anymore,
isn’t it? You’ve always been my best friend, Arden. Always. I promise, I’ll
take very good care of you. We’ll take care of each other.”

Bailey raised the needle again, but
something stirred within me. My stomach pulsed as if something were trying to
break out of it. Saliva filled my mouth, and my skin tingled. A fragrance
filled my nostrils—meat, enticing and savory. My muscles were so tense that
they hurt. It became easier to hold Bailey off me. My grunting turned into a
low animalistic growl, surprising Bailey, Wiley, and myself.

Wiley backed away, holding his phone in
front of him. I was ninety-nine percent sure he was recording all of it. “What
the hell?” he muttered.

With everything I had, I shoved Bailey off
me. She landed on her back beside me, groaning. I pounced on her, pinning her
shoulders to the ground. She stared back at me wide eyed for a second, then the
brief fear she had turned to anger. “Get off of me!”

“Arden, maybe you should . . .” Wiley
began, but barking cut him off.

Fletcher was on the way. I had to do what
I had to do before he reached me. He might try to stop me or take matters into
his own hands. I wasn’t going to let that happen. I couldn’t let him be hurt
again. I had to solve this problem myself. Getting rid of Bailey right then and
there would keep others from dying. Getting rid of her would keep me from being
destroyed.

Bailey tried to speak, but she couldn’t. I
only realized then that I was choking her. Fletcher was getting too close. I
didn’t have time to waste. There was no time for guilt or second guesses.

I held up one hand and looked at it. My
fingers were red and tender, my nails hardened and sharp. I loosened my grip on
Bailey’s throat to hear her last words.

“Arden, please don’t,” she begged. “I’m
your friend. Please don’t.”

For a split second, I almost felt sorry
for her. I thought about our slumber parties, secrets we shared, and the plans
we’d made for the future to be besties forever. I remembered how we had
promised to be roommates in college, then I brought my nails across her throat.
Three wide lines formed and blood poured out of them. I’d expected scratches,
not deep gashes. I blocked out Wiley’s screaming, wondering why he was still
there watching. If I were him, I would have been long gone. The color drained
from Bailey along with her blood. She gasped for breath, reaching toward me as
I slashed her again and again, my nails performing like tiny blades.

My stomach rumbled with emptiness, begging
me to eat. Bailey smelled of the exact thing I needed to quench my sudden
appetite. I threw my head back, preparing to take a chunk out of her, preparing
to find out what Bailey tasted like, but Fletcher found me and yanked me up.

“You can’t bite her. Once you taste flesh,
there will be no turning back for you.” He pulled me away from bleeding, dying
Bailey. “That’s enough. She’s done.”

He led me past Wiley, who stood frozen,
staring at Bailey’s remains. We ran toward his dad’s car, where I sank into the
front passenger’s seat, breathing heavily. Inside, the party carried on. I’d
saved their lives and they didn’t even know it. Fletcher locked me in the car
and then stopped Wiley, who was scrambling to get in his truck.

Wiley wouldn’t take his eyes off me as
Fletcher spoke. I couldn’t blame him. Fletcher patted him on his shoulder
before Wiley hopped in his truck and sped out of the field.

“You okay?” Fletcher asked as he climbed
in.

I nodded even though I wasn’t. The reality
of it all hadn’t hit me yet. Bailey was gone, and she had never been who I
thought she was.

“What did you say to Wiley?” I asked as
Fletcher drove across the uneven field to the road.

“I made him promise not to show the
recording to anyone. He said he wouldn’t.”

“And you believed him?” Wiley was probably
uploading the video to YouTube as we spoke.

“He won’t show it,” Fletcher declared.

“How do you know?”

Fletcher’s jaw twitched. “Because he saw
what you did to Bailey.”

I gulped. That was the last thing I
wanted. To be feared like some monster. For Wiley or anyone to look at me the
way he had that night.

Fletcher dropped me off. I climbed up the
rose trellis, over the balcony, and back into the safety of my room. I hid my
bloody dress at the back of my closet until I could get rid of it. Bailey’s
blood had ruined two dresses, but she had also ruined so many lives. The town
would be safe again, but I was officially a murderer. I knew what it felt like
to be one of them now. I was a Taker.

With Bailey gone, the killings
stopped.
The gossip around town was that the Benson family had
just up and left, leaving all their possessions behind. Some thought they
needed a new start after Bailey’s attack. Some suspected foul play, but there
was no evidence to back it up.

School was school, with the exception of a
few things. Whenever I passed Wiley’s truck, he would quickly roll up the
windows. I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t even want to know what he thought of
me.

Lacey kept her distance from me. Even
though Wes had cleared her memory of what had happened in the lair, she gave me
the side-eye every time we passed. Maybe she sensed that something about me was
off.

The day before Valentine’s Day, I sat in
Mrs. Martin’s classroom after school, serving detention. I’d had another
outburst in her class, and she was sick of it. She left the room, warning me
that she’d be back in five minutes. I stared at the desk, trying not to fall
asleep.

“Have you heard?”

I jumped at the voice. I turned to see
Violet standing there at the back of the classroom in front of Mrs. Martin’s
desk. I looked around. How would I explain this if Mrs. Martin came back?

“Violet? How did you get here?”

She pointed to the vent grate lying on the
ground that had obviously been removed from the wall. “We’re not supposed to do
that—come into the school—but since you can’t come to the lair, I had to. I
don’t know if you know, but the Gemini Curse is in effect. It’s official. That
means right now someone is out there looking for you to kill you. Watch your
back.”

I nodded. “Noted.” Strangely, I wasn’t
afraid of Rose. After what I’d done to Bailey, I was sure I could take on an
Angel.

“So did you do it?” Violet asked, wide
eyed.

I imagined her crawling through the ducts,
watching me and following me around the school. “Did I do what?”

“You know, tell the others to stop calling
you Dust.”

I’d been thinking about that. “You know
what? I haven’t, Violet.”

Her face fell. “But you said you would.
You said you would try.”

“Have you told them not to call you Cuddle
Bug?”

She shook her head. “I’ve been afraid to.
I was hoping you had, and that might help me be braver. Were you scared too?”

“No. I’m not scared. Not anymore.”

Violet sat on a desk and folded her legs
underneath herself. “Then why?”

“You know what, Violet? I kind of like
Dust.”

End of Book One