Secrets and Shadows (23 page)
Cat’s chin rose. “Renegotiating?”
“Cat,” I warned. “She said
may
.”
Wanda nodded. We trailed behind Wanda to the door like lost puppies. Out and up the stairs, I recounted each one. If we had to do something drastic, it might be dark. Counting stairs might save us from tripping down them.
Final y outside, Wanda slapped her hands together against the cold. “I trust you can find your way home,” she muttered, “since it’s real y just around the corner.”
Wow.
They’d gotten arrogant.
Wanda’s gaze slid from Pietr to me as if weighing some danger. “Jessica, I’l be back to take you home soon.”
“Don’t bother,” Max retorted. “I’l drive her back.”
Again she measured Pietr with a glance. “Huh. Okay.” Wanda shrugged and slipped back inside.
A half-dozen bolts clicked into place behind us.
* * *
“Cat,” I insisted, “You stil have years. You al do.”
“Not as many as you wil ,” she said. “Why can I not be normal—not
this?
” she asked. “As normal as Jessie?”
I resisted the urge to explain that
normal
was a relative term, and right now it was so relative it didn’t seem to relate to me at al .
From the front passenger’s seat Alexi looked over his shoulder at her. “You are blessed in many ways, Ekaterina,” he said. “You have much that many would kil for—and many have.”
“I would give it al away,” she confessed, “to live out a normal life and reach a normal old age.”
I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. “Some normal people don’t live very long, either. What if you give up your gifts—your healing, your agility, your wonderful wildness—and die in an airplane crash? Or crossing a street. It happens, Cat. There is no normal life span. Only average.”
“Perhaps this is simply what we’re destined to be,” Pietr added. “Wild and powerful, and then … nothing.
Should we not embrace what is carved into our genetics, be al that we may be for as long as we can be?
Live life fiercely?”
Max turned the car up my driveway. “Live fast, die young,” he mumbled.
The car stopped, and I couldn’t get out fast enough. “And what do you leave behind?” I snapped, leaning back in to the open door and scowling at Max because my stinging eyes proved I didn’t dare look at Pietr. “Who do you leave with only memories of you? How many hearts do you break when you risk too much and die too young?”
I slammed the door shut and stalked into the house.
“That boy of yours is on the phone,” Dad said, holding the receiver out to me.
“Who?”
“Derek-the-man-Jamieson,” Annabel e Lee cal ed.
I took the phone. “Hey.”
“Hey. I was thinking about you.”
“Oh.” I tramped up the stairs. “That’s nice.” I took off my sneakers with a clunk and peeled off my socks, holding the phone between my shoulder and cheek.
“Your party’s tomorrow night,” he reminded.
“It’s real y more the Rusakovas’ Hal oween party.”
“Trying to be difficult?”
“No. I’m tired. Things have been pretty weird around here lately.” I took off the rabbit netsuke and left the amber heart. “I was thinking of skipping the party.”
“You can’t do that. It wouldn’t be a party without you. It sounds like it’l be quite the bash. Nothing like we throw on the Hil , but it’s sure to be talked about.” There was a long silence. I wiggled out of my jeans and slipped on my pajama bottoms. His voice deepened, became more focused. “I would have thrown you a party.”
“My father wouldn’t have al owed it.”
“He thinks I’m trying to get something for my good deeds?”
I paused, pul ing my tee up. When had I mentioned that to him? “He thinks you’re trying to get something from me, yeah.”
“I only want what you want to give,” he assured me.
“Mmm.” I nearly dropped the phone as I pul ed off my shirt and undid my bra. “Hold on.” I set the receiver down, looking for my flannel top. Tugging it over my head, I retrieved the phone.
“You’re getting ready for bed,” he said, voice rasping.
I spun to my window, half-expecting to see him clinging to it. “Uh, yeah. Lucky guess.”
“I better let you go, then,” he said with a sigh. “I’l pick you up tomorrow for the party. Sixish?”
“I was actual y going with Amy and Marvin.…”
“Fine. I’l see you there.” He paused. “Dream of me.”
“Good night.”
* * *
The next morning a shiny Mercedes pul ed up outside my house as I was drying the last of the breakfast dishes. It had to belong to Derek’s family. Mercedes were not frequently found in Junction.
Hunter and Maggie went nuts when Derek sprang out of the car with a bouquet of flowers. Hunter even rediscovered his inner alpha and growled.
I pushed them back from the door. “You’re early. By hours.”
“A dozen roses,” he said, opening the screen door and stepping inside as I booted the dogs out. Hunter promptly found the Mercedes and anointed its wheels. He must’ve wanted to keep it. “I thought about things a lot last night,” Derek said, heading to the kitchen. “Vase?”
“Um, yeah.” From under the sink I brought out the only glass one we owned. It was dusty with disuse. I reached over to rinse it out, but he took it from me, moving my hand away from the faucet with a firm touch of his own.
Taking up the kitchen shears, I began trimming stems. “They’re beautiful, by the way.”
He smiled. “I figured, how often do girls get to real y celebrate their seventeenth birthday, right?
Shouldn’t it be a little bit of a big deal? Yeah, I know that’s like an oxymoron or something.” He shrugged.
“So I cal ed your dad this morning. Yes. At the factory. No. He’s not in trouble because I cal ed.”
I closed my mouth.
“I know people, remember?”
It was hard to forget.
“I asked if I could keep you out. Al day.”
“Wow.”
“He said yes.”
Double wow.
“Since it’s nearly noon and you’ve done your chores…” He glanced at me for confirmation.
“Yep. Everyone’s fed, water’s checked; supposed to be beautiful out these next few days, so they’re mainly hanging out in the pasture. No mucking to speak of.”
“No mucking,” he snickered. “Let’s start with lunch. And we’l do a couple things on my list.”
“You have a list?” Derek never struck me as a planner.
“I’m absolutely scheduled out for today, baby,” he said, leaning in to kiss me.
“Don’t cal me that,” I said, pul ing back as his lips brushed mine. “I’m not anyone’s baby.”
He shrugged. “Ready?”
“Yeah, let me just go and get my costume. And change…”
“Sure.” He put his hands behind his back, swaying and whistling jokingly as I dashed up the steps.
I grabbed my dress for later. Frikkin’ Buttercup. My Man in Black had probably made new plans since we weren’t together. I wondered what he’d be going as and I tried to
not
wonder even harder as I peeled out of my work shirt and freshened my deodorant. I was rummaging through my closet for a change of clothes when my door squeaked open.
Derek stepped inside. “Sorry. I thought I’d grab your costume. Not ready yet?”
“Um.” Too aware I stood there in only my bra and jeans, I tugged a random shirt free and nearly blackened my eye as the clothes hanger swung toward my face.
Derek’s hand stopped it in midair, his breath warm on my cheek. “Careful.” He’d crossed the distance remarkably fast. Unnatural y fast. My heart raced.
His eyes rested on the amber pendant I’d slept in, but he said nothing.
“Costume’s on the bed.” I pointed.
He let go of the hanger and turned to get the dress.
I tugged the shirt over my head, watching him. “Step outside. I need to finish changing.”
“Again—sorry,” he whispered. “I’l wait by the car.”
“Good idea.”
As soon as I was certain he was gone, I squashed down my questions and shimmied out of my dusty jeans and pul ed on a clean pair. I pounded back down the stairs and scrawled a note to Annabel e Lee.
AL,
Unexpected Dad-approved date with Derek. Off to celebrate becoming seventeen. Back late tonight
after party at Rusakovas’.
I cal ed the dogs in and closed up.
Derek stood waiting by the car as promised. He gal antly opened the door for me and, sliding in beside me, he nodded to the driver. “Princess Buttercup,” he said nonchalantly.
“Uh, pretty much,” I said, puzzled.
“Great minds think alike.” Reaching across to the front passenger seat as I buckled my seat belt, he pul ed out a pair of black leather pants and a black satin shirt.
The Man in Black would make an appearance tonight, after al . Seeing my expression, he took my hand.
* * *
I shoved the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to clear the remaining blur from my vision. A footbal jersey bearing the number twelve shimmered on the wal . The single word across its top read
Jamieson.
My hands gripped the comforter and I realized where
here
had to be. Derek’s bedroom. My stomach lurched as I tried to make sense of things.
I shook my head to clear it but gasped as pain shot through my temples, blinding me. There was a door off the side of the room, light glowing around its edges, water splashing. A bathroom. Inside, Derek whistled the same cheery tune as earlier.
On the nightstand a phone in the shape of a footbal rested in its cradle. I grabbed it, punching in the numbers.
“
Allo?
”
“Max,” I whispered. “I need a ride.”
“Jessie? What number are you cal ing from? Where are you?”
“Umm … a bedroom. On the Hil .”
Across the miles I heard a door slam. “With
him?
”
He had to hear me choke on my shame.
“Shit. Address?”
“I don’t…” I’d crushed on Derek for years. But I’d never looked up his address or phone number. I’d never had the guts to try a ride-by.
I heard Max’s car door slam and the convertible snarled to life. “It’s a piss-poor day for tracking,” he grumbled. “Jessie.”
My stomach curled in my gut. “Yeah?”
“Stay clear of him. Don’t let him get his hands on you.”
“Okay.”
“Jessie, you hear me? Don’t let him touch you.”
A smile dimpling his face, Derek took the phone and set it on the nightstand.
Not
in the cradle.
“Who are you talking to, Jessica?” he asked, loud enough for Max to hear. “Someone coming to pick you up?” He reached for me, and I scooted away. “Shhhh. It’s okay.”
I trembled. “How did I get here, Derek?”
“My driver brought us. Don’t you remember?” He snagged my wrist, and my head fil ed with images of us curled in the backseat of the Merecedes, kissing. But it was strange—the view skewed somehow.
“I don’t remember—” I began, but the visions pushed back into my head, stealing my words as he covered my mouth with his.
He dragged his lips across my mouth, assuring me, “You wil ,” as his hand shifted its grip and he pul ed my arm over my head and pushed me down.
For a moment I thought I heard the Rusakovas’ convertible roar to its fastest speed, squealing through the phone’s receiver. And there was cursing. In Russian. Though I didn’t understand the words, the intent was clear, even across the distance.
Then everything faded away and there was only the warmth of Derek’s hands. As if miles away, I heard him coax, “This is al so much easier this way.…” and I felt something flutter through my mind, my brain like the Rolodex that Counselor Maloy kept on his desk. Spinning. “Interesting,” Derek whispered, his lips tracing across mine, their warmth blurring my worry, blunting my fear, washing away my cares.…
I sighed, sinking back, head fil ing with pleasant images; pictures of Pietr floated to the surface. Kisses scorched along my face and neck. “Pietr…”
There was a growl, and I felt fingers at the waistband of my jeans. The button opened and a hand traced along the top of my underpants.
“No,” I said.
The kissing resumed, harder. “Jessica.” The word rumbled in someone’s throat. Not Pietr’s. To him, I was
Jess
.
“No,” I insisted, trying to pry my eyes open. Something was wrong … Not Pietr … I pushed at the chest above me, my eyelids stinging as I wil ed them apart.
“Relax…” a voice said, lips dragging along the corner of my jaw, fil ing my head with honey, sticky and sweet.…
There was a crash, and my world snapped into screamingly sharp focus. My head quaked like it’d been jackhammered open. My eyes wide, I saw Max reach for me. “Button your jeans,” he growled.
What?
Oh, God.
I fumbled, buttoning up.
Neanderthal-style, Max slung me over his shoulder. Derek clambered to his feet.
“Don’t you ever touch her again,” Max demanded.
Derek just grinned.
Sensation swirled in my head—kissing, touching, a single word—“No…” I was going to throw up. I was certain.
What had Derek done?
Max headed to a door hanging by a single hinge, and fast as a striking snake, Derek lunged, clutching my wrist. Images ripped through my head, twisting, quivering, fogging and evaporating—stealing my thoughts and wrenching away my memories. Something jolted through me like lightning.…
Muscles cramping, I convulsed.
Max roared, spinning back to Derek.
My world went black.
Silent.
* * *
“Jessie. Jessie. Jess-ie,” someone crooned my name.
