Public Enemies (10 page)

I was a good enough student that I daydreamed through most of my classes, though I had to focus enough not to get killed during PE. Afterward, I lingered in the shower, longer than I should have; I realized my mistake too late.

 

MESSAGES FROM BEYOND

Mist whorled in the bathroom, spiraling beneath the hypnotic flicker of a struggling fluorescent bulb. I tightened the towel around me, conscious of how alone I was. The other girls had finished up and headed off to their next classes, leaving me in the locker room. Once, under these exact circumstances, I could've expected a truly heinous prank. Inside me there was still a frightened kid waiting for the torture to resume.

But my problems were broader and deeper now. My skin crawled with the unmistakable certainty that I was no longer alone. I rushed to my locker, half expecting to find my uniform missing or damaged in some ways, but most of the people responsible for that were dead. A chill went down my spine as I struggled into my underwear. Not drying off made it difficult, as did the steam all around me. Visibility was low, and the rows of lockers obscured my vision even more. Still, I got dressed in record time and was shouldering my backpack when the fog parted.

That was the right word too, as it blew to either side, as if driven by a strong wind. Seconds later, I felt that icy touch on my skin; the goose pimples popped up instantly. The mirror was smoky with heat and condensation, so I could just make out the shadowy hint of my own reflection.
God, I
hope
that's me.
The cold enveloped me on all sides, confirming my suspicion that this wasn't a routine let's-screw-with-Edie scenario. Nothing human could make me react like this. Since I couldn't fight a feeling, I took a step toward the doors, or at least where I thought they were.

A few seconds later, the first letter appeared in a jerky streak on the foggy glass.
I
. The bottom bled away in tearful drops as my breath came in quiet gasps. Unable to look away, I watched as the rest of the message appeared.
AM ALWAYS WITH YOU
. My heart was beating so hard it hurt, hammering in my ears. This could be only one person.

“Cameron?” I whispered.

In answer, a chill touch swept over my bare arms. Shivering, I shrugged into my blazer and ran out of the locker room. I had no idea what he meant by that, if it was a threat or reassurance, but I wasn't sticking around to find out. If I had anywhere to hide, I'd probably cower there but home wasn't any safer than school.
It didn't protect my mom.
So while I was pale and shaken, I went to class and pretended I was feeling crappy.

Not much of a stretch, actually.

Later, at lunch, Jen peered at me worriedly as we went through the line in the dining hall. “You look worse than you did this morning.”

“That's awesome for my ego,” I mumbled.

“Not what I mean.”

Davina cut in behind us, earning a couple of dirty looks. She replied with a smile so sweet that the underclassmen probably thought they asked her to do that. “Thanks, guys. I really appreciate you letting me catch up with my friends.”

“No problem,” a short kid said.

I waited until we'd gotten some food and headed off to a new table. The one the Teflon crew had claimed and graffitied sat empty, and I noticed students giving it a wide berth like it was haunted. Allison headed up a new popular table along with some of Russ's lacrosse buddies and the rest of the cheerleaders; Davina showed no interest in joining them. Apparently she'd only cared about fitting in with that crowd because of Russ.

Who's dead because of me.

My stomach hurt, making it impossible for me to eat the salad and sandwich I'd put on my tray. Quietly I picked at the food, hoping the other two wouldn't notice.

No such luck.

“What happened?” Davina demanded.

Maybe I shouldn't tell them … but they already knew most of it anyway. I just hadn't mentioned the immortal game, and guilt flickered through me that I was being more honest with Jen and Davina than Vi. There were justifiable reasons, however, as they were at greater risk due to our proximity, and it wasn't like I could protect them as I had Vi.

With a faint sigh, I summed up Cameron's creepy locker-room visit. By the time I finished, they'd both stopped eating, gazing at me with mute horror.
Yeah, pretty much.

Davina wrapped both arms around herself and made a face. “Is he with us now?”

“Probably.” I couldn't sense him, but that wasn't a foolproof indicator. If science applied to this batshit business, then there had to be an energy cost when he manifested.

“What a perv,” Jen said. “That guy doesn't change, even when he's ghosting up the place.”

“Huh?” I blinked at her.

“Seriously, Cam chooses to write you a message when you're naked after a PE shower?” She flattened her mouth while lifting her eyes to the ceiling.

For some reason, that made me laugh. “I doubt that's why.”

“If you say so. But I have to ask, do you have any sudden urges to make pottery?” She was smirking, so casual that it helped me settle down a little.

“Shut up.” Why
is she so cool about all of this?
The question jangled in my head like an unanswered phone. I tried not to show my sudden suspicion.
Dude, you're losing it. Jen's a good friend. You can't let Allison succeed in driving a wedge.

“If he's … gone,” Davina whispered, “why is he hanging around?”

“No idea.” If I did, I'd release or exorcise him, whatever applied to trapped spirits.

“My grandmother would say it's unfinished business,” Jen offered.

“He should've written what the hell he wants, then.”

Davina nodded. “Would it kill him to be specific? Wait.” She bit her lip as the shitty turn of phrase dawned on her. “Okay, I didn't mean it like that. Sorry, bro.” With wide eyes, she glanced around like he might be sitting here with us.

After talking with these two, I felt better, and the rest of the day was less traumatic.

When school let out, Kian was waiting for me past the gates, propped against the stone wall. Today, he had on gray pants and a tailored charcoal wool coat. The wind ruffled his dark hair, and even from this distance, it had a satiny sheen. His beauty was so remarkable that I had to search for flaws every time I saw him. But from the sharp line of his jaw to his kissable mouth, there were none. His skin was smooth and perfect, lightly tinged with gold, and his green eyes shone like gilded jade through a tangle of thick, inky lashes.

Two girls actually paused to snap a picture of him. He frowned, probably because they didn't ask permission. Then they ran off giggling like idiots. The surge of jealousy surprised me; it wasn't that I thought he was
interested
in them.
Kian loves me. Enough to die for me. And he cared,
before. But I was territorial about him, though that wasn't all of it. More that I wanted to protect him, keep idiots from treating him like he was … artwork in the public domain.

“That gets old,” I guessed.

“I'm sure you're getting the downside by now, too,” he said.

“Definitely. There was an asshole on the T this morning…” I trailed off as his eyes flashed. Yeah, Kian didn't like hearing about other guys trying their luck.

“I shouldn't let that piss me off.”

When he reached for me, I forgot that I was irked over the way he blew me off yesterday, along with everything I wanted to talk about. He drew me close by hooking his hand behind my head and I stretched up to put my arms around his neck. I raised my face for the kiss, prompting the sweetest smile I'd ever seen from him. He kissed me once, softly, so my eyes drifted closed, then his lips brushed my eyelids in turn with such tenderness that the barbs of sweetness pierced my heart.

This is the worst part of love,
I thought in silent desperation.
Because now I have so much to lose.

His mouth came back to mine, and I was starving for him. We kissed until someone cleared his or her throat loudly nearby. Dazed, I turned my head to find Allison standing there. “You think you're untouchable now?”

“What're you talking about?”

“The Harbinger might be looking out for you, but that doesn't mean I can't make your life miserable,” she said. “There are a lot of ways to hurt people that don't result in permanent physical harm.”

“Don't threaten her,” Kian said softly. “I'm not on anybody's leash now, and there's no limit to what I'll do if you mess with Edie again.”

“Sexy little guard dog,” she mocked, reaching out like she'd pat his cheek.

And he actually slapped her hand away, shocking both of us. Then he tightened his arm around me and steered us toward the car. His Mustang was parked behind all of the black SUVs and town cars, no sign of Aaron.
Does that mean he found his family?

“Where's the kid?” I asked, as we pulled away.

“My place.”

“No luck at the police station?” I expected to hear they still hadn't gone.

To my surprise, he shook his head. “There's nothing on file. Crazy, but he seems to be telling the truth about how there's nobody missing him.”

“That's so sad.”
Poor kid.

“Yeah. I feel like we're kind of responsible for him now, you know?”

“We took him away from the Harbinger,” I agreed. “And Aaron hasn't exactly astonished me with his street smarts.”

“He's got a bad case of Stockholm syndrome. His first day at my place, he asked permission for every damn thing and shadowed me like a puppy.”

“You always wanted a little brother, right?” I was trying to find the bright side.

Kian shot me a surprised look, along with a half smile. “Maybe. We won't have as much privacy at my place, though.”

“It's fine. I'm sure you can teach him to respect a tie on your bedroom door or whatever. Good practice for college.”

He hesitated. “I don't know if I should say this.”

“Go for it. You know you want to.”

“Will you look after him for me? You know. After.”

My faint happiness spun away like broken cobwebs. “This is such bullshit. How long do you plan to pretend everything is okay?”

Like always, my belligerence shut him down. Kian went quiet, focused on driving instead of arguing. But I couldn't let it go.

“Keep this up, we won't even have these last months together. I don't like being shut out.”

At that, his green gazed snapped right, practically sparking. “Are you threatening to break up with me because I won't fight with you?” Incredulous tone.

“Maybe.”

“How does that even make sense?”

“It makes as much as you promising to die for me and then refusing to talk about it!”

His jaw clenched. “It's done, Edie. Nothing we say can change it.”

The rest of the ride was silent to say the least. He dropped me off without another word and, yeah, he was pissed because I didn't even get a kiss on the cheek. I got out with a mumbled thanks and he roared off. I hated myself for bitching at him and issuing half an ultimatum and him for refusing to talk to me about
anything
. Sometimes I thought he still saw me as the dog girl, broken by that one moment and forever fragile, perched on a bridge.

As I turned to head into my apartment, I caught sight of something that chilled my blood. Across the street on the opposite corner, the old man stood with his empty sack, the two dead-eyed children beside him. Their clothes were no longer bloodstained but I knew they could show me whatever they wanted. Before I made a conscious decision, I was running on my bad ankle—into the street against the light. I ignored the shouting drivers and screeching brakes. Somehow I made it to the other side, breathing hard, but they were gone. Only the necrotic stink lingered.

The sun came out, nearly blinding me. I felt no trace of Wedderburn, who'd hired them to execute my mother. Did this mean Dwyer was paying them to torment me now?
Crazy. Sometimes a sunny day is just a sunny day.
Spinning slowly on the sidewalk, I whispered, “Which way, Cameron?”

It was a long shot, but if he didn't hate me—
if
he was an ally—then maybe he could help. I had some crazy idea of tracking down the monsters and getting back my mother's head. I wasn't religious but there were stories about how a butchered body could never rest in peace. If there was an afterlife, I wanted my mom to have the best one ever. Dumb as hell, probably, but this was all I could do after failing to protect her so spectacularly.

A cool breeze drifted along my right arm. “This way?”

No reply was forthcoming but I inhaled a hint of graveyard rot. Yeah, this was the right track. Desperate not to lose them, I pushed into a sprint despite the pain, drawing looks from other people on the sidewalk. I called an apology over my shoulder when I nearly bumped into an old woman. She shot me a glare and mumbled something incoherently cranky as I raced past. Another touch on my forearm, icy damp, and I turned that way. Two or three more jogs, more running, and soon I didn't recognize where I was anymore, and the buildings were looking sketchy, most of them boarded up or obviously abandoned.

“Shit,” I said aloud. “How stupid am I?”

I had no proof this was Cameron, and this spirit might be leading me into a trap. Whatever it was, the thing clearly knew I had no ability to be rational when it came to my mom's death. I tried to calm my pounding heart and the roaring in my head that insisted I had to find the bag man
right now
and make him pay. As if my mental call summoned him, he appeared half a block down, flanked by his creepy cohorts. My feet pounded against the sidewalk as I closed the distance between us. I had no plan, just a cascade of endless rage.