A Girl Called Dust (16 page)

Mom stared straight ahead, not taking her
eyes off the road. “I don’t think her mother would want you there. Besides, I’m
sure she won’t be up for any visitors tonight. Even when she is, I wouldn’t
bank on seeing her.”

Mom was right. If Mrs. Benson didn’t want
Bailey around me, there would be no exceptions. She was super strict and meant
business. I bet she had even yelled at Bailey about her costume change once
they were tucked inside the ambulance.

Mom gripped the steering wheel so tightly
her knuckles were turning white. “And that poor boy. . . just nineteen years
old.”

Trent was that poor boy. He’d been found a
few yards away from Bailey, ripped to shreds. I heard someone at the scene say
he was unrecognizable.

I looked down at my ruined costume. I’d
arrived at the party wearing fake blood, but I was leaving with my friend’s
blood caked into my favorite dress and stained on my hands.

Mom sighed and patted my knee. “I’m sorry
you had to see that. You just have to be at the wrong places at the wrong
times, don’t you?”

I couldn’t tell if she was simply making
an observation or accusing me of something.

My thoughts went back to Bailey’s words
when I’d asked what had attacked her. Why would she say me? She must have been
in so much pain and shock that she hadn’t been thinking straight. It was
terrifying to think that awful creature was just roaming the woods where we
were. Any of us could have been attacked.

Mom slammed on her brakes at a red light,
almost sending us both through the windshield. Thank goodness for seatbelts.
“Sorry,” she muttered. “I don’t know what we were thinking. I guess we thought
you kids would have enough sense not to go into those woods, but apparently
not. And where were Trista’s parents?”

I shrugged. By the time we left, the
Pimentels still hadn’t shown up.

Mom answered her own question. “Probably
at that masquerade ball in Hanover.” She sounded bitter. She would have been at
the ball too if Dad weren’t away. “You’re to stay away from those woods at
night and during the day. You hear me?”

“Yes, Mom.” I had no intentions of going
near the woods ever again. Fletcher had been right. I should have listened to
him and stayed home from the party. Of course, that wouldn’t have changed what
happened to Bailey.

I feel like something bad is going to
happen.

How had he known?

Part 3

What I Am Not

Chapter Nineteen

Bailey survived her attack, although she
never came back to school. She wouldn’t let anyone see her until she had
finished all her plastic surgery procedures. Until then, she was being home
schooled. I only knew this stuff because Mary-Kate had told me. Bailey had
blocked my number and refused the flowers I’d sent, making it painfully clear
that she wanted nothing to do with me ever again. Why was she still believing
that I was the one who had hurt her?

She was going through a lot and still
reeling from Trent’s death, so I decided to give her space. I told myself that
she would come around eventually.

Dad had come back November first as
always, with no reasonable explanation for why he had ignored everyone’s phone
calls. “I knew you guys could handle things while I was away, and I was right.
Everyone’s okay, healthy, and in one piece, right?”

But he was still lying. I looked at Mom as
Dad climbed the stairs with his suitcases. She flipped through the day’s mail
as if everything was normal. Really? She wasn’t going to say anything? But
then, she had been acting weird too, as if the whole thing was no big deal.
She’d had Paige’s window replaced, and that was the end of it. No reinforced
security, no more talking about it, no nothing.

“Wait, Dad.”

He paused halfway up the staircase. “Yes?”

“Paige was kidnapped and we didn’t hear
from you once when it happened. We called and called. Don’t you have anything
to say about that?”

Dad sighed and looked down at his luggage.
“Honey, what happened to Paige was a terrible ordeal. I think it’s best if we
forget about it and don’t speak of it again, for Paige’s sake.”

“But, Dad—”

“Arden, that’s it!” Dad yelled. Mom looked
up from where she had been flipping through a catalog. “It’s over and we won’t
talk about it anymore.”

I didn’t dare say another word about it.

A few nights later I awoke to the sounds
of thumping on the roof. It sounded as if someone very heavy was walking on it.
Grabbing my pillow, I sat up, only to hit my head against something.

The lamp on my nightstand switched on, and
Dad stood over me. “I’m sorry, honey.”

The noise above us continued. “Dad, what’s
going on? What are you doing in here? What’s that noise?”

“Arden, someone is here for you. He has to
take you now.”

I moved away from him. “What? What are you
talking about?”

My heart raced. The boy with the wings. He
really existed, and he hadn’t forgotten about me. I shivered as a cool burst of
wind pulsed through the room. The double doors that led to the balcony were
open. “Dad, did you open those doors?”

The lines in Dad’s forehead were
prominent. I’d never seen him look so sad and worried before. “I wish I could
protect you from this, but I can’t. No matter where I’d take you or try to hide
you, they would find us.”

A loud thud came from the balcony. A huge
shirtless boy with ripped muscles and two large black wings swung into my
bedroom. He had to retract his wings to fit through the door.

My throat closed so tightly that I almost
couldn’t breathe. “Dad?”

“I’m sorry, Arden. It’s time.”

 Dad stepped back and allowed the
winged boy to snatch me roughly from my bed. I screamed and kicked as he pinned
my arms to my sides, but fighting was no use. The boy was a hundred times
stronger than me.

My sisters were screaming, and a door
slammed somewhere in the house. Mom shouted that everything was all right, but
everything wasn’t all right. My father was letting this strange winged creature
manhandle me. Why wasn’t he fighting for me? Why was he just standing there
letting it happen?

The boy held me with one arm and dug into
his pocket for something.

“Please,” Dad told him. “You don’t have to
use that.”

“I do.” The boy’s voice was gruff and
strong but not mean. “I’m sorry, but she can’t know our location. Not yet.”

I looked at my father again, pleading.
“Dad, please.”

“I’m so sorry, honey. It’s okay. They
won’t hurt you. You’re one of them.”

“One of them? What does that mean? One of
what?”

The boy dragged me toward the window. I
fought as hard as I could, wiggling to escape his grasp. I couldn’t believe my
father was just watching this happen and that Mom was somewhere doing nothing.

My bare feet slid across the cold
hardwood. I glared at my father. “I know now. I know I’m not your real
daughter. That’s why you’re letting this happen. Because you don’t love me.”

I had never seen anyone look as hurt as my
father did then. My words might have been harsh, but they had to be true. It
was the only way to justify my parents not helping me.

Something sharp pricked my neck. I felt
the overwhelming urge to sleep. The next thing I knew, I was floating over our
quiet, darkened neighborhood and then nothing.

I woke up to what looked like some sort of
makeshift hospital room in a bed covered with crisp white sheets. Black straps
tied my arms to the metal railings on the sides. Computers and television
monitors were set up around the room. Things that looked like hospital IVs and
a few extra beds sat in dark corners. It was just as Paige had described it.

Searching the room for the door, my gaze
landed on the winged boy who had stolen me, although his wings weren’t visible
at that moment. He chomped on an orange, eating the peel and all.

He took another bite of the fruit, staring
at me. “I know. Cadence says you’re supposed to peel these things, but I’ve
always found Humans to be awfully wasteful. Haven’t you?”

This wasn’t happening. I had to be in the
middle of a strange nightmare. Feeling weak and groggy, I closed my eyes again,
willing myself to wake up from the awful dream. When I opened my eyes, the boy
stood over my bed, still chewing, but the orange was gone. “I know what you’re
thinking. You’re not dreaming.”

My legs were free so, I kicked him in the
stomach, which barely moved him. He bent over, trying to take hold of my legs,
and I did the only thing I could think to do—leaned over and bit him on his
shoulder. Groaning, he held both my legs with one hand and pressed me down on
the bed with the other. The scent of the orange lingered on his breath. “I
don’t want to do this, but you have to calm down.” There was the familiar prick
in my neck, and I was out again.

When I awoke, I had no way of knowing how
much time had passed. The room was windowless, so I couldn’t tell if it was day
or night. What was my family thinking? Were they even looking for me? Of course
they weren’t. They had let the boy take me in the first place. They were
probably happy to get rid of me, the thing that doesn’t belong.

I decided to be calm. Fighting was
useless. I needed to get some answers, and that wouldn’t happen if the boy kept
putting me to sleep. It took me a moment to realize he was standing on one side
of my bed and on the other was this . . . thing. I flinched but willed myself
not to react. Whatever it was, it was hideous.

The thing leaned over me, and I had the
overwhelming urge to punch it for getting so close. “What is it?” the thing
asked. “I mean; it doesn’t have horns or wings or anything.”

It?

The boy with the wings shrugged. “Some
kind of mix. My father will know.”

Hideous Thing backed off. “Whatever it is,
it’s ugly. It smells funny too.”

“What do you expect? It’s been living with
Humans.”

It took me a few seconds to realize the
“it” was me. Hideous Thing had a lot of nerve to be talking. It had the body
form of a Human, but its skin was gray, with red veins stretching in all
directions. Black stringy hair dangled just past its shoulders. Pointy gray
ears and whiskers shot out of its head. The worst part was the sharp teeth that
protruded so far out of its mouth that closing it was impossible.

Hideous Thing appeared to smirk. “Is it
ugly because it’s been living with Humans?”

I gritted my teeth. “That’s the last time
you get to call me ugly, Thing.”

The winged boy chuckled. “Don’t take it
personally. He also thinks I’m ugly, and we both know that’s preposterous.”

Winged Boy wasn’t my type, but he was far
from ugly. Short ebony hair, large dark eyes, and perfectly chiseled facial
features made sure of that. His boyish face was a striking contrast to his
manly body. If I weren’t so scared and confused, I might have taken more time
to bask in his perfection.

Hideous Thing shook its head. “It’s ugly,
and it has a bad attitude.”

I gripped the bedsheets with my fists.
“I’m not an
it
. And what do you mean, what am I? What are you?”

“A Vetala.”

That meant absolutely nothing to me, so I
looked away from Hideous Thing and brought my attention back to the boy. “Why
did you bring me here?”

“Because you’re one of us, and we have a
lot of catching up to do. I’m Hollis, by the way.” He smiled as if waiting for
me to be impressed.

“Hollis,” I repeated. “Well, Hollis. What
are you? Some sort of twisted angel?”

Hollis and Hideous Thing laughed. “No. I’m
the opposite. I’m an Aswang.”

“An ass what?”

“An Aswang. Don’t worry. We’ll give you
some research material, and you’ll learn all about us. Kind of like homework.”

“Why does it smell that way?” the Vetala
asked again with a look of absolute disgust. I must have smelled really bad for
him to keep harping on it. Bringing my head down, I sniffed myself. I still
smelled like the peach body wash I had showered with.

“It’s not her fault. She’s been eating
their food.”

Hollis leaned over and released my straps,
untying me from the bed. “Stay calm this time, or they go back on.”

Sitting up was a task. Dizziness
overpowered me, but I needed to get out of this place.

Something beeped. Hollis pulled a phone
from his jeans pocket and glanced at the screen. “We have to go. I’ll bring you
something to eat in a little bit. Also, Father examined you while you were
sleeping, and he’s going to be able to tell us what you are.”

I shivered at the thought of some strange
man I had never even seen examining me as I slept. “What do you mean, what I
am? I know what I am.”

“What are you then?” asked Hideous Thing.

“Well . . . a girl.”

Hollis gave me a lopsided grin. “No,
you’re not. You think you’re Human, but you’re not. Someone should have told
you a long time ago.”

“What do you mean I’m not Human?”

Hideous Thing came closer to me. “You
should be glad. Being a Human is so mundane. My name’s Wes, by the way.”

“Wes?” I laughed, although I hadn’t meant
to.

He frowned. “Something funny about my
name?”

“No, it’s just that I was expecting a more
exotic name from someone who looks so . . .”

“So what?” Wes demanded.

“We’ll tell you more later,” Hollis said
as he pulled the creature away from the bed and toward the door. “I’ll bring
you some food.”

“Wait. I—don’t leave me by myself.” I
didn’t want to give off any hints that I was afraid, but I was.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be back.”

Then they were gone, leaving me alone and
confused.

Hollis came back about an hour later as
he’d promised, bearing a bowl of something that looked like chicken soup and a
humongous book with a tattered cover. He handed me the bowl, and I immediately
scooped the soup into my mouth against my better judgment. The food could have
been drugged for all I knew, but I was famished. I couldn’t tell what kind of
meat was in the soup, but it wasn’t anything I had ever tasted. It was probably
best I didn’t know.

“Are you ready to hear the truth?” Hollis
asked.

Oh, I was way past ready. I nodded.

“Most people think this earth is only
inhabited by Humans and animals, but the truth is, we have been here a long
time before Humans were. Well, not us specifically, but our kind. Givers and
Takers. We’re Takers.”

I had downed half the bowl by then and was
already wondering if there was more. “What do you mean Givers and Takers?”

“Givers give life and Takers take life. It
might sound bad, what we do, but it keeps the balance. Don’t let anybody make
you think that we’re monsters or villains. We just do what we were born to do.
We stick with our kind and the Givers stick to theirs. We don’t bother each
other as long as things stay under control. Arden, you’re a Taker. For some
reason you were taken from your real parents. They’re the ones who are supposed
to be teaching you what you are and the ways of Takers. That’s why you’re so
lost.”