She Lies Twisted (19 page)

“
I'm sorry, Neil,” Jessica said from behind me. I stumbled to my feet and whirled around to face her. The flute was hanging limply in her right hand. “I meant to kill her before but I wanted her to know first. I'm sorry you had to see it like this.” I stared at the girl I had shared a womb with, shared a life, shared deaths.

“
Jessica,” my tone was firm. I didn't sound scared which was good. I didn't know how to sound scared anymore. Fear implies anxiety at the unknown, trepidation at perceived pain. I was already in the unknown, full of pain. There was nothing left to fear. “Are you trying to ruin what life I have left?” I was going to have to leave Grandma Willa alone in her mansion and travel the country with James with no food and clothes that stank like the sea.
But is that really so bad?
My heart pumped with possibility.

“
You belong with me, Neil,” she whispered as she lifted the flute to her lips. I reached for the handle of my purse. It wasn't there. Once again, it had been knocked off in a fight. I was going to have to find another way to carry it. I checked the grass.
There, under the tree.
I raced forward and snatched the purse from the ground but before I could even open it, Jessica lips moved across the metal and began to play.

A twang, like Boyd's country music, broke the sweet melody of the flute. I couldn't place the sound at first but it was familiar. I glanced around for the source. Nethel moved into sight from behind a tree, lifted her fingers to her lips and blew. Petals danced in the wind for a moment before swirling, catching the trail of Jessica's music and attaching to her skin like scales. She shrieked in pain and I watched in horror as she changed, from girl to demon. Her hair grew long and full, wrapped her body like a blanket and pulled her to all fours, changed her from my sister into a lion with blue eyes and tails like whips. She roared and the bird demon responded as if summoned. It grasped the flute between its talons and lifted it into the sky, followed by Ehferea who had an arrow, cocked and ready. She released it, skimming the bird's wing and sending it crashing to the ground in a flurry of feathers and tufts of grass.

I caught a movement of blue to my right and turned. There were police officers everywhere, drawn to the park by frantic 911 calls. I was going to go to jail. I paused for a long moment, drawn between the supernatural problems behind me and the civic ones in front.
I can't do this.
My knees shook and I thought I was going to collapse. A strong hand clamped around my arm and spun me to face its owner.

“
James,” I whispered his name like a dream and fell, forward and down, trying to hold onto some hope but not finding it.

“
Let's get out of here,” he whispered gently, hoisting me up with Nethel's help and taking me away from the park and the lion that was my sister and the flute she shouldn't have played. I didn't see her take Ehferea, twist her to the ground and snap her neck. I didn't see her take the flute and leave. I'm glad I didn't because even though the harpy got up and walked away as if nothing had happened, I had seen enough death to last me a thousand lifetimes.

James took me home and locked the two of us in the pretty bedroom together while Nethel waited outside for Ehferea. As he drew the curtains and I wondered why I still had dry eyes, I realized that this was starting to become his room. Old memories were being replaced with newer, better ones. I tried to smile but Margaret's death caught at the corners of my lips and drew them down.

“
Are you okay?” He asked me as he peeked outside for something, maybe Jessica, maybe a demon, maybe cops. I nodded but didn't speak. He sat down on the unmade bed next to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“
Were you close to her?” He asked, pretending as if he hadn't followed me out there and seen the whole thing though I suspected he might have. When I spoke, my voice was barely above a whisper. Death. Death. Death. I just couldn't escape the inevitable.

“
Not anymore.” James nodded again and stood up, pacing the length of the room several times before I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Am I going to jail?” He looked down at me and worried at his stitches.

“
I don't know.”
At least he's honest.
“But you didn't kill her. They might not have been able to see the demon but it was obvious that she didn't die by your hands.” I stared down at the white and pink floral rug and wondered how long it would take Jessica to find me again. It wasn't like I was in hiding. She had lived here, too. She would come, eventually. A knock at the door interrupted our silence. James and I exchanged worried glances.

He tiptoed to the door and leaned his ear against it. I followed suit.

The old doors creaked open and Grandma Willa answered.

“
How can I help you boys?” She asked in her afternoon-medication voice, the one where she got all foggy and far away. I frowned.
Had she seen us come in
? I tried to think. She had. She absolutely had. I grit my teeth and prepared to make a run for it. I could get out the window and down the street before the cops even knew what was happening and if they shot me, what the hell would happen? More stitches? James placed a hand on my arm.

“
She isn't here,” I heard Grandma Willa saying. “She went to school this morning and hasn't been back? Is there a problem?”
She was covering for me. Grandma Willa could barely remember that I existed and she was covering for me. Thank you,
I whispered in my heart. I would tell her later, I promised myself that. I would tell her I loved her, too. I hadn't said it in a long time but deep down, I knew it was true.

James straightened back up and went to the curtains. He pulled the lace aside and waited until the cops had gotten back in their car and left before speaking.

“
We have to find Jessica,” he said, turning to face me again with a grim face. “We have to find her and send her on before she kills anybody else. I'm starting to wonder if we should be worried about that guy, what's his name, the red head?” I sighed. He was right. Jarrod. We had to find Jarrod and protect him from Jessica though I almost felt like it was a waste of life. He should've died and not Margaret. How could Jessica be so selfish?

“
I can show you where he lives?” I suggested, absolutely determined not to go back to the school or the park. If he wasn't there, too bad, his loss. “It's getting late, he should be home by now.”

That is, if my sister hasn't already killed him.

I walked to Jarrod's house in a daze. Margaret was dead, she wasn't my favorite person, that was fine, but I'd had enough. I stopped James with a hand on his elbow. He paused but didn't look at me. We still hadn't exactly addressed the Sydney issue and I think, but I wasn't positive, that he was embarrassed.

“
Thanks for telling me,” I said. I didn't need to specify. James knew what I was talking about. He kept his gaze on the sidewalk as I glanced over my shoulder at Nethel. She had agreed to follow us at a distance though I wouldn't say discreetly. She wasn't more than ten steps away. “And after this, I think we should go and find her.” James swallowed and nodded. He knew it was the right thing but it was going to be difficult. I wished I could give him courage but I was having trouble finding my own. I glanced back down at him and watched the waning sunlight play off of his hair. I needed to show him something that let him know that I was here.
We're the same, you and me. We lived identical lives with different people in different places and we understand each other. I get it, James, I get it.

I said nothing and kept walking.

Before we even got to Jarrod's house, I knew there was a problem.

The front door was missing.

James and I paused, glancing at one another and then back at Nethel for confirmation. Ehferea still hadn't come back yet and if I really was starting to get a hang of how the stoic harpies thought, I would say that Nethel was worried. She stepped between us and went into the house without stopping. James and I waited for her in silence. When she reappeared, I expected her white feathers to be coated in blood. I just expected death all the time now. Sad. When she came out, though, she was still as white as a pearl, glimmering and changing tones in the light.

“
Jarrod is not present though it appears it has not been long since he was here. Shall I search the area for him?” Nethel looked up at the sky, her dark eyes searching for her partner. I followed her gaze but found nothing but white clouds and the telltale oranges and red of evening peeking over the edges of the mountaintops. I adjusted my sweatshirt to ward off the coming chill. It might've just been the weather or maybe I was starting to get paranoid. I swore I could feel Jessica's eyes boring into my back. I turned around and found nothing.

“
Well,” James began. “I guess that would be best. If he's still around here, we need to find him before Jessica...” He trailed off. He didn't need to state the obvious and he knew it.

“
Very well,” Nethel confirmed, raising her wings. “I will report back to you in this vicinity. Do not wander too far.”

When she was gone, James and I were left standing awkwardly on a sidewalk with no discernible direction. I wished suddenly that there was a compass pointing us in the right direction.
Do we find Sydney? Do we wait here? Do we look for Jessica?
I turned around and went up the stairs. I had to do
something.
James followed me soundlessly into the apartment.

As far as I knew, Jarrod lived here with his bitch of a mother who cared more about poker tournaments and fucking their players than she did about her own son. No wonder Jarrod was such an asshole.

The house was ransacked. Pictures were smashed on the floor, tables were overturned, the TV was a smoking mass of melted plastic on the carpet. I let my mind put together a picture of what it would've looked like beforehand and it wasn't much better. Those holes in the walls looked like they'd been there for quite some time and the dirty carpet and crooked kitchen cabinets didn't look new either. Jessica's demons had done a lot of physical damage but signs of emotional stress were everywhere.

“
How depressing.” I wasn't sure if James had said it or if I had. I put my sweatshirt hood over my hair and pulled the drawstrings tight. I couldn't have agreed more either way.

“
This is the price of love, huh?” I asked him. He jumped as if he'd been stung by a jellyfish. The look he threw my way was less than pleasant. He looked...disappointed.

“
Love?” He asked, adjusting Jessica's sweatshirt and tugging on the loops of her pants to keep them from riding down. “This isn't about love. This about control. This is about taking something from someone that they weren't willing to give you freely in the first place.” I kicked over a broken chair and neglected to respond. What was I supposed to say to that? “Love is perfect and gentle and it doesn't take, it only gives.” I looked at James as he spoke. His face was less pale, more passionate. Here was a person who knew what he was talking about. James had loved Sydney. Period. I glanced away, ashamed for disagreeing but unable to control the cynicism that dripped from my lips like poison. Had I learned nothing?

“
It seems more like a punishment. I mean, look at us, we loved and look where we're at now?” I gestured at the apartment. “We're dead and we can't see the ones we would've died for. We have to send them on and we have to stay here. That doesn't seem very gentle or perfect or amazing to me. If what I've been through isn't a punishment, then I don't know what is.”

Nethel's feathered feet were so quiet on the floor that neither of us heard her come in.