Reborn (18 page)

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Authors: S. L. Stacy

BOOK: Reborn
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“You
belong to…”
You belong to me
. I know that’s what he wants to say, but
after a pause he corrects himself. “We belong together. I love you. You believe
me, don’t you?”

“I
believe you think you do.” I try to squeeze back the tears threatening to spill
from my eyes, but one traitorous drop rolls down my cheek. Jasper brushes it
away with his thumb. “But you don’t lie to the woman you love. And you
certainly don’t send her friends to do your dirty work for you.” I squirm out
of his arms and sidestep around him to get to the door.

“This
is it, then,” he says bitterly.

“No.”
I look back at him. “I just…I have to go. The dance,” I remind him. “It’s going
to be half over by the time I get there.” I turn again to leave, but Jasper’s
insistent hand grabs my arm.

“You
can’t! Please, don’t go,” he pleads, trying to cover up his initial outburst,
but it’s too late; I’ve already caught the glint of alarm in his midnight blue
eyes, felt it in his unrelenting grasp. “Stay. Let’s talk through this.” This
is the second time today he’s tried to convince me not to go.

You
have your orders. Apate is in charge tonight…

“You’re
sending them after Farrah. After my sisters.” Even after all of his lies, I
want him to tell me I’m wrong. That of course he wouldn’t send them to attack
the sorority—Nike’s guardians of the partitions between our universes.

The
corners of his mouth turn down into a stubborn frown. “It’s the only way.
Otherwise she’ll have them send me back.”

Without
another word to Jasper—I have nothing left to say—I run downstairs and out of
Frasier Hall, calling the cab company on the way.

 

 

Chapter 24

 

On
the ride over, I grimace at myself in my compact
mirror. Clumps of limp,
damp blonde hair hang around my face, all of the curl gone, and smears of
mascara stain the delicate skin below my eyes. I dab my cheeks with a tissue,
rub some berry red gloss on my lips and comb my hair with my fingers. That’s as
good as it’s going to get, and I don’t really care, anyway. All I care about is
making sure my friends are okay.

By
the time the cab pulls up to the Riverfront Bar and Grill, the black sky has
opened up. Rain bleeds down the cab windows in silvery rivulets. “Thanks,” I
tell the driver, handing him a crumpled wad of fives and ones for the cab fare
and tip. I get out and attempt to shield my head from the incessant rain with
my black sequined purse. Thunder crashes just as I dive under the green awning
of the restaurant. White lightning flashes out of the corner of my eye. I race
inside, past a startled-looking hostess, and I don’t pause until I reach the
double doors leading to the formal dining room. The muffled bass of a techno
song strains against them. I yank one open, the music hitting me like a punch
in the chest.

The
house lights are down, strobe lights briefly illuminating patches of the room
in red, blue and green as they bounce off the walls and floor. They splash a
kaleidoscope of color over Tanya’s white strapless dress as she dances with her
date in the corner. I see Carly and her boyfriend among the crowd hugging the
bar, waiting for drinks. A breath I hadn’t even realized I was holding rushes
out of me. There’s no sign of Liz, Genie, Sam or the rest of Jasper’s ragtag
army. My eyes circle the room again, this time in search of Farrah so that I
can at least warn her, but a slouched figure sitting at one of the tables
catches my eye first. Staring into his drink, Jimmy taps his foot
absent-mindedly to the thumping bass.

“Jimmy!”

He
looks up at the sound of his name and jumps to his feet.

“What
happened to you?” he wonders, looking me up and down with concern.

“Is
it that bad?” I reach out to smooth the collar of his white shirt. “You look
handsome.” Even though his black suit jacket is draped over the back of the
chair and the knot of his red tie sits low on his chest, he looks refreshingly
sophisticated. Well, as sophisticated as a restless punk rocker can get.

“I’m
so sorry I’m late. I had the worst afternoon—”

“It’s
okay,” he assures me. “Tanya told me.”

“She
invited you,” I guess. He nods. “I’m really happy you came.” Tears spring to my
eyes again, and I divert my gaze to the floor. “I would have understood—”

Jimmy
gently presses two fingers to my lips. “Of course I came. I acted like an ass
the other night. We shouldn’t have played the song.”

I
shake my head. “It’s not your fault. It’s…oh God, Jim, I’ve been such an idiot.
You and Anna were right to warn me about Jasper. He sent that guy to the bar to
request the song. He was trying to come between us.”

“Let’s
just forget about it for tonight.” He takes my hand in his. “Dance with me?”
The techno song has ended, and I see my sisters cuddling up to their dates as a
slow song starts—I think it’s a duet between Rihanna and some guy, but I can’t
remember the name of it. I smile, and we walk out onto the dance floor. Jimmy
wraps his arms around my waist, I sling my arms around his neck, and we sway to
the music middle school dance-style. Halfway through the song Jimmy pulls me
closer to him, and I lay my head on his shoulder.

A
tentative hand on my back makes me lift my head up. Jimmy’s hazel eyes narrow
at something behind me. I crane my neck to look over my shoulder.

“Max!”
I exclaim, slipping out of Jimmy’s arms so I can turn fully to face him. A
blast of red light catches Max’s quivering jaw and unblinking blue eyes. Even
in the darkened room, his knuckles look white as he clutches a clear plastic
box.

“Sorry
I’m late,” he says stiffly, thrusting the box into my hands. Inside it is a
wrist corsage of velvety, blood red roses. “Glad to see it didn’t stop you from
having a good time.”

“I—I
didn’t know you were coming,” I admit, trying to catch Max’s gaze, but he and
Jimmy are locked in a staring contest.

“What
are
you
doing here?” Max asks Jimmy.

Jimmy
throws his hands, palms out, in front of him. “Tanya invited me.”

“Tanya
invited
me
.”

“I’m
going to
kill
her.” I whip my head back and forth between Jimmy and Max.
“Oh, this is ridiculous! Just make out already.” I might as well be talking to
a wall. Neither boy even flinches at the joke. “I need a drink.” I toss the box
with the corsage on a table on my way to the bar.

“Vodka
cranberry,” I tell the bartender. While he’s mixing my drink, I grab a small
pink plate from the buffet table and build a short tower out of a triangle of cheesecake,
a brownie and a couple of cookies. Beside me, a long fingered hand darts out to
snag a mini spinach and cheese quiche and add it to a plate already piled high
with nachos and cocktail weenies.

“You
girls have quite the spread here,” Peter says. Tall and thin in a powder blue
tuxedo, he looks like one of those gel pens I had in middle school. “Look at
this.” He holds up a cocktail hot dog by its toothpick. “It’s a hot dog,
wrapped in bacon. I love America!”

I
take my drink from the bartender. “I’m afraid to even ask what you’re doing
here,” I tell him.

“I’m
here for the free food.” He slides the hot dog off the toothpick and pops it
into his mouth. “Jimmy called me,” he explains around his food. “I came to
Victoria’s rescue when her date fell through.”

“Victoria!”
I blurt, smacking a palm against my forehead. “Do you know where she is?”

Peter
licks the grease off his fingers, smacking his lips together. “She told me she
was going to the ladies’ room. That was like an hour ago. Red wine, please,” he
calls over to the bartender. “On second thought, I wouldn’t go looking for her
if I were you. She’s not very happy with you right now. Can you hand me my
drink, love?”

Holding
my breath, I get the glass and pass it to Peter. At least now I know where my
disdain for red wine comes from. “You always seem to know more about what’s
going on with my friends than I do,” I realize, thinking back to Jimmy after he
cut himself on stage, and Anna and Eric’s disappearance. I know Victoria must
be upset because Sam stood her up, but why is she mad at
me
? Because I
was late?

“Just
think of me as your messenger boy,” Peter says before he tosses back a sip of
wine.

“There
you are! Where have you been?” Tanya rushes up to us just as Peter brings the
glass down from his lips. She knocks into his arm, sending a stream of wine
flying through the air. Time seems to slow down as she, Peter and I watch the
burgundy liquid splatter the front of her white dress. At first, the only sound
that escapes Tanya’s flamingo pink lips is a hoarse gasp.

“My
dress!” she shrieks, gaping down at the spreading red stain. “
You ruined my
dress!

“Love,
I am so, so, so sorry—”

Tanya’s
date looms up behind her. “You ruined my girl’s dress, faggot!” he bellows. One
of his beefy arms swings out, the fist on the end of it cracking against
Peter’s jaw. Peter loses his balance and stumbles backwards into the buffet,
the fold-out table collapsing underneath him. He slides to the floor along with
an avalanche of hors d’oeuvres.

“Hey,
douche bag!” Jimmy barks, stalking up to Tanya’s date. “Lay off—”

“My
dress!” Tanya’s sob drowns out Jimmy’s voice. Tears pour down her tan cheeks.

“It’s
okay.” Carly materializes beside her and places a reassuring hand on her arm.
“It’s just a dress—”


Just
a
dress
!” Tanya grabs Carly’s puffy sleeve and makes to rip it from the
rest of her pale pink dress. They stagger as one mass of clawing fingers,
taffeta and glitter into the closest dancing couple.

I
stay silently frozen as I watch the room explode into chaos.

 

 

Chapter 25

 

Arms
lash out like black tentacles as the boys pummel
and wrestle each other.
My sisters tear around the room in a rainbow blur, slapping, kicking and
scratching each other. At last I feel my feet moving underneath me, like they
have a mind of their own. They carry me back out into the hall and around the
corner to the women’s restroom. I collapse through the door, and it swings back
and forth behind me a few times before finally closing with a click. Above the
rhythmic drip issuing from one of the porcelain sinks I hear muffled sobs.

“Big?” My voice
echoes along the white tiled walls. The whimpers falter. “Victoria, is that
you? We have a little problem.”

An
auburn head peeks around the pale green door of the last stall. “Hello there,
little sister.” Victoria emerges fully, her silver satin flats plodding
soundlessly over the floor as she inches toward me. Her silk dress shimmers
like the surface of a sapphire blue lake. “Nice of you to make an appearance.”
Although her freckled cheeks are damp, her mascara smudged like mine, her voice
is steady and scary calm. I find myself taking a step backward.

“Peter told me something
was up.” I’m unable to keep the nervous quiver out of my own voice. “What’s wrong?
Is it because Sam stood you up?”

“Oh,
no. Samantha Carson showed up at the house, right on time.”

My mouth goes
dry. “
What
?”

“I had to tell her
that there was a misunderstanding, and that she could leave.” For every deadly
step my big sister takes toward me, I take another automatic step back.

“Victoria, I—”

“Do you realize
that pretty much every fraternity on campus is represented here tonight?” she
yells, cutting me off. “So thanks, Siobhan, for not only outing me to the
entire sorority, but basically the entire Greek community!”

I start when my
back hits the cool wall behind me. “I thought you said you asked Samantha to
leave,” I say to keep her talking, to distract her from punching me with one of
the fists balled at her sides. My comment stops Victoria in her tracks. Her
cheeks flush blood red in embarrassment.

“Carly tried to
help, like she always does. ‘Oh there must be some mistake!’” Victoria squeals.
Her impression of Carly would normally have me rolling on the floor with
laughter if she didn’t have me cornered in the ladies’ room. “‘Victoria’s not
gay!’ I should have played along, but instead I—I choked up. Everyone was
staring at me, but I couldn’t get the words out.” Her brow furrows at me, her
amber eyes darkening to a stormy brown. “I still blame
you
.”

“Victoria, I can
explain.” The words pour out of me in a rush as she takes a few more deliberate
steps in my direction. “I kept forgetting about your date, and I brought it up
with Jasper. He told me he would find you one. I thought he was setting you up
with Sigma Iota Sam.” I should have known better. Nothing ever goes right when
Jasper meddles.

“Oh!
I understand.” Victoria’s smiling, but it’s a wide, crazed smile. “You
forgot
about me so you got one of your boyfriends to do your job
for you
. Oh,
yes, I understand completely. Thanks. That made me feel so much better!”

“I’m sorry!” I
cry out. “I see how shitty it was of me, and I
am
sorry! I don’t know
what else to say!”

“There’s nothing
else you
can
say. You know, I always saw you as someone I could really
trust. Really depend on. But lately…” She shakes her head sadly.
“First, you
don’t come back to the house when I ask you guys to—when Farrah first arrived—”

“I thought you
were over that.”

“Then you
disappear with Jasper during the mixer,” she continues as though I haven’t said
anything. “I catch you going through Farrah’s stuff. You’ve broken curfew
twice. And tonight you came late to your
own
event.”

“I’m sorry about
all of it!” I yell, which startles Victoria, who became so engrossed in her
rant she seemed to forget I was still there. “I want to make it up to you. Just
tell me what to do.”

Victoria closes
her eyes, breathing out in an exasperated huff that flutters hair. When she
next speaks, it’s in a calmer, more reasonable tone. “Nothing.” My shoulders
sag with relief, but then she continues, “If I can’t trust you, I don’t want
you to do anything for the chapter. You’re suspended from your position and all
future social events until you can get your shit together.”

Rage bubbles
inside of me. At first I’m surprised it hasn’t awakened my wings, but then I
remember what Jasper said about hormones—that my wings would be easier to
control over time. That was probably a lie, too. It’s the ambrosia. “You’re
overreacting,” I say through gritted teeth.


I
think
you’re getting off easy. I could make things a lot worse for you.” She brushes
past me on her way to the door.

“I
see what’s going on here.” My hand darts out to stop her, and I tug her around
to face me. She yelps in pain and surprise and tries to pull away from me, but
I only dig my fingers harder into her arm.

“What the hell!”

“You’re
just mad that you want all of this—” I release her and run my hand in the air
alongside my body—“but you can’t have it. You will
never
have it.”

Victoria chokes
on her laughter. “You think I want all of
that
.” She looks me up and
down, her upper lip curling in disgust.

“Don’t play dumb.
I know you have a crush on me.”

Placing a hand
on her chest, Victoria says through fake sobs, “I guess I can’t hide it any
longer. Siobhan, I have a ginormous crush on you, and I die a little more with
each passing day that we are not together.
Please
,” she groans, rolling
her eyes. She reaches out to open the door, but I grab her arm again.

“We
are
not
done here!”

“Oh,
I’m
done—”

I hear someone
growling.

It’s
me.

The
next thing I know, I’ve knocked Victoria to the floor and am holding her there
with my legs and hands. Despite the burst of strength fueled by my overflowing
anger and the ambrosia treatments, Victoria’s a seasoned athlete. In seconds
she has
me
pinned to the floor.

“I
don’t even
like blondes
!” she yells as she pushes down to restrain my
flapping arms and legs.

“Let
me go!” I grunt, freeing one of my wrists from her grasp. I reach up and pull
her hair as hard as I can. She screams and tries to tear her head away, but it
only makes me yank harder. While the pain distracts her, I roll out from
underneath her. I rebound and am about to lunge at her again when Tanya and
Carly tumble inside the bathroom.

“Carly’s
sick,” Tanya says as Carly disappears inside the first stall, retching into the
toilet. Tanya hurries after her to keep Carly’s unruly curls out of her face
while she pukes.

“Someone
should have told the bartender to cut her off,” I admonish. Victoria and I both
have our arms crossed. We exchange furious glances, our breaths coming out in
short, angry gasps.

“She
hasn’t had anything to drink!” Carly’s body heaves again, and Tanya turns back
to her. “It’s okay, Carly. It’s…what in the world?” Suddenly she pulls back.
Underneath her pink dress, Carly’s back ripples like the surface of a rushing
creek. It only takes me seconds to realize what’s happening.

“Tanya,
get—” I try to warn her as two white feathered wings split through Carly’s
dress, slapping against the sides of the stall and forcing Tanya out. Tanya
gapes at them in horror. Carly shudders and lifts her head up from the commode,
her stomach seemingly settled now that her wings have emerged.

“What
happened?” she croaks. Feathers rustle as she struggles to turn around in the
stall. There’s a clap of thunder outside, followed by a buzzing sound—a sizzle
of electricity that draws my eyes to the ceiling just in time to see the
fluorescent lights blink off, throwing us into darkness.

“Crap,”
Victoria says. She fumbles around for something on the sink. A moment later,
the screen of her cell phone sheds pale light in the darkened bathroom. “Stay
here with Carly,” she instructs Tanya and pushes open the door with her hip,
motioning for me to follow her.

“I—I’m
sorry,” Victoria stammers as we step out into the hall. The entire restaurant
is bathed in blackness. Where dance music once thumped from the dining room, an
eerie silence now coils around us. “I don’t know what came over me. This isn’t
like me.”

“But
it’s like
me
?” I reply in exasperation.

“Of
course not. There’s something else at work here,” she says almost to herself.
I’m about to ask her what the heck she’s talking about, but Farrah walks
briskly out of the dining room, a glimmer of blonde and gold in the dark.

“Do
you feel them?”

“Feel
what?” I start to ask, but Victoria talks over me.

“A
little.” She tilts her head as though she’s listening for something. “I catch
snatches of their thoughts. They’re mostly jumbled, but they keep returning to
‘water.’”

“The
storm?” As if on cue, lightning blazes outside, briefly illuminating the
hardwood floor, eggshell wallpaper and potted ferns.

“No.”
The whispered word is packed with dawning realization and fear. “The river.”

“You’re
coming with me,” she tells Victoria. “Siobhan, round everybody up and bring
them out front.” She turns on her heel and takes off for the front door, Victoria
running after her. I turn and race in the opposite direction, back into the
dining room.

Although
the music has died and the strobe lights have blinked off, the power outage
hasn’t dampened the spirit of the civil war raging inside. Farrah just might be
the worst chaperone, ever. As I race further into the room, dodging bodies
locked in combat, my ankle almost gets caught in a tangle of fallen streamers.
Upended foil centerpieces and withered balloons litter the floor. Using a chair
as a stepping stone, I climb onto a table and cup my hands around my mouth.

“Hey
guys! Guys! We have to—” Something drops from the ceiling, and a hard thump in
my chest cuts off the rest of my words. I do a backwards somersault over the
edge of the table, my tailbone landing hard on the floor. Swallowing the pain,
I scramble to get up, but someone wrestles me back down. I hear the flap of
wings and see the whites of dark brown eyes.

“Seriously,
Liz!” I roll out from underneath her and instinctively kick out with my leg.
The heel of my shoe collides with something soft, and Liz shrieks in pain. “Get
out of here! Now!” I shout to the others before Liz rebounds, pouncing on me
from behind and locking my arms behind my back.

“You
are
not
going to ruin this for Master!” Liz drags me across the floor,
but when we reach the double doors they suddenly bang shut in her face. They’re
locked from the outside with a small but horrible click. Dropping me, Liz leans
into them with all her strength, her shoes squeaking against the floor, but
they won’t budge. “Hey!” she calls out, banging on one of them with her fists.
“I’m still in here! Let me out! Let me—”

“Do
you hear that?” a voice exclaims from somewhere in the room. Sometime during my
fight with Liz, the room lapsed into an anxious silence. “It sounds like the
ocean.”

Now
I hear it: a hollow roar, like the sound you hear when you hold a conch shell
to your ear. The building groans just before a wall of water crashes through
the glass wall, sweeping us into wet oblivion.

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