Gabriel felt the end of his rope coming up quick.
His lighter rolled through his knuckles, making that reassuring click each time it changed direction. Fire at his fingertips it would be so easy to draw flame from this tiny silver square, to send it straight at Becca’s father and let him burn.
He just wasn’t entirely sure how that would turn out.
They’d found a free table near the center of the Annapolis Mall food court: Nick sat to Gabriel’s left, Chris to his right, fingers loosely intertwined with Becca’s. Hunter sat at one end of the table, wearing a denim jacket over a light-colored hoodie, the stones he always strung along his wrist hidden from view.
Michael sat at the other end, still sporting the red T-shirt with their last name across the chest that he usually wore on landscaping jobs.
And on the other long side, completely alone, sat Becca’s father.
The Guide.
“Call me Bill,” he’d said.
Yeah, Gabriel had a few ideas of what to call him.
He looked completely nondescript: just an average guy in his late thirties. Sandy brown hair, a goatee, gray eyes that matched Becca’s. He hadn’t changed after work, either. He was still wearing a beige button-down with the sleeves rolled up his forearms, patches on each shoulder reading Department of Natural Re-sources and Wildlife Control Division.
Not exactly the kind of guy you’d expect to find trying to slaughter a bunch of teenagers.
The tension in the air seemed to be forming a barrier around the table. No other patrons had even come close to sitting nearby.
“So, Bill, ” said Becca, her eyes hard, “why don’t you start with the reason behind this one-eighty.”
Her father’s expression didn’t flicker. “One-eighty?”
“You were trying to kill us all last week. Now you want to help?”
“I wasn’t trying to kill you.”
“Funny how you blew up my car ”
“When you weren’t in it.” While his voice was mild, there was a glint of wicked humor in his eye, something not entirely pleasant. “I even offered to replace it.”
Becca leaned in against the table. “You could have killed innocent people,” she hissed.
“Could have. Didn’t.” He looked across the table to meet Gabriel’s eyes. “I didn’t kill anyone, innocent or not. Right?”
Gabriel let the lid of his lighter fall open, flicking the igniter while it rolled.
Nick reached out and snapped it closed before a flame could fully form. He held fast, and Gabriel could almost read his thoughts. Don’t. You’ll start a fight we can’t win.
And that . . . that made Gabriel look away.
He jerked free of his twin, shoved the lighter into his pocket, and scowled.
“Why didn’t you kill us?” said Chris. “Why go to all that trouble with the walk-in freezer, and setting Nick’s leg ”
“Ever go fishing?” said Bill.
“Sure.”
“I only had two of you. In my experience, live bait works better.”
“You’re avoiding the question,” said Becca. Her voice was full of challenge, but her fingers looked like they had a death grip on Chris’s. “Why do you want to help us now? ”
“I’m not avoiding the question.” Bill leaned back in the chair and shrugged. “I don’t necessarily want to help, but the stakes have changed.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Meaning what? ”
Her father hesitated.
Michael jumped on it. “Meaning, Becca, ” he said. “We’re not the only ones hiding anymore. I’m willing to bet that the only people who know Becca’s a Fifth are sitting at this very table.”
He turned dark eyes to Bill. “Am I right?”
A nod. “Yes.”
Michael leaned in against the table. “And I’m guessing the other Guides wouldn’t be too happy to find out you kept her a secret.”
“Probably not.”
“So you’re protecting yourself,” said Becca. She snorted.
“Typical.”
Her father turned to look at her. “Just what do you think they’d do, Becca? Slap me on the wrist and forget you exist?”
She stared back at him, and Gabriel could see the battle in her expression, that she wanted to know what they’d do but she was afraid of the answer.
“They’d make you kill her,” said Hunter, his voice low. “To prove your loyalty.” He was watching Bill, too, his expression shadowed.
Becca’s father didn’t say anything and that was obviously answer enough. Her face paled a shade, and she glanced at Hunter. “How did you know that?”
He shrugged a little. “My father used to tell me stories. Of how the Guides wouldn’t allow their goals to be compromised.
One death is nothing compared to the greater good, right?”
“Yeah?” said Chris, his tone unfriendly. “And where do you fit into that?”
Hunter met his eyes and didn’t back down. “I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”
“Stop,” said Becca. “Don’t fight.”
Michael cleared his throat. “So what are you proposing?”
“I’m proposing that you lie low. Don’t draw attention to yourselves. They’ll send another Guide if I don’t check in with progress but I can hold them off for a while. Let them know I’m still investigating. If there aren’t continued reports of problems in this area, they’ll stay away.”
“What about Seth and Tyler?” said Nick. “You know it’s not usually us causing the problems.”
“I don’t think we need to worry too much about them for the time being,” said Chris, and for the first time, his voice carried a little satisfaction.
“Yeah,” said Becca. “We just came from the police station.
Turns out assault and attempted rape are pretty serious charges.”
Now Bill looked at her. “Attempted rape?”
Becca’s eyes were hard. “Don’t even look at me like that. I don’t want your concern. You don’t get to care. Do you understand me? As far as I’m concerned, you’re ”
“Easy,” said Chris, his voice soft. “Take it easy.”
“I want to help you,” said Bill, his voice gentler. “You need to let me ”
“We need to lie low,” said Becca. “Got it.”
Gabriel kept his mouth shut, but this guy was crazy if he thought he had a shot in hell at her trust. Not to mention the rest of them.
“And while we’re waiting around,” said Nick, “what are you going to be doing?”
Bill glanced at his daughter. “I’ll be showing Becca how to protect herself.”
Becca sat up straight. “No. No way.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You’d rather run on sheer adrenaline and luck? As much as you don’t want to believe it, I am doing this with the end goal of keeping you safe. You don’t even have a clue what you’re dealing with.”
“I do,” said Hunter.
Chris glared at him, but Becca smiled. “Good. Hunter can tell me everything I need to know.” She gave her father a dismissive look. “You can go back to ignoring me since it’s worked so great for the last five years.”
“I haven’t been ignoring you, Becca.” He glanced at Hunter.
“And regardless of who you learn from, I definitely won’t be ignoring you now.”
“So that’s it,” said Michael. “You don’t turn us in, we don’t turn you in.”
Bill spread his hands. “For now, that’s it.”
Gabriel waited for his brothers to scoff, to refuse, to flip this frigging table and start the fight of the century. The Guide was right here, like a sitting duck. They could take him down in a heartbeat.
Probably.
Unfortunately, everyone else was nodding, acting like it was a good idea to wait and see.
Gabriel wanted to punch his twin in the shoulder and ask what was wrong with him.
Why the hell are you nodding? he wanted to say. Don’t you remember the way your leg shattered when he attacked us?
He’d thought they were coming here to finish things, to fight.
Not to be placated and reassured.
Gabriel wound his fingers around his lighter again. The potential for fire was right there, pulsing under his fingertips.
Mocking him.
“And what about you, Gabe?”
He snapped his head up, the lighter slick against his palm. He hated being called Gabe, but correcting this guy for something like that seemed like criticizing a mass murderer for littering.
“What about me?” he said.
Becca’s father spread his hands, looking far too patient. Gabriel wanted to hit him.
Unfortunately, everyone else looked like they were on his side.
Her father was still looking at him. “Any thoughts?”
Oh, he had plenty.
“Yeah,” he said, leaning in, putting a hand against the table.
“I don’t buy it. What if we just save time and take you out to the parking lot to kill you.”
“Jesus, Gabriel,” said Michael, rubbing at his eyes. “We don’t have a lot of choice ”
“I’m in,” said Becca.
“No.” Nick put both hands flat on the table. “Bill’s plan makes sense. For now. Just ”
“It doesn’t make sense.” Gabriel kept his eyes firmly locked on Becca’s father.
Bill didn’t make a move, but he very clearly wasn’t backing down, either. “Don’t push me, kid.”
The lighter sat tucked between Gabriel’s knuckles. It would take nothing to have fire in the air. He could almost taste smoke on his tongue.
But he kept thinking of the fight on the field, how they’d lost control.
No, how he’d lost control.
You’ll start a fight we can’t win.
He shoved the table away and got to his feet. “Fuck you.”
He didn’t realize he’d bolted from the mall until cold air slapped him across the face. At least he was outside.
Nick had the car keys, so Gabriel walked along the side of the mall. There weren’t many cars out here anyway, in this space between the food court and the nearest department store. He flipped the lighter open and ran fire through his fingers, snapping the flame off the wick to cradle it in his palm.
Dead leaves were caught against the curb here, and Gabriel scooped a few into his palm, feeding them to the fire one by one, the way you’d sneak scraps to a dog under the table. Each sent sparks curling into the night air.
He felt calmer already.
“Got a light?”
Gabriel whirled, feeling the flame blaze between his fingers just not with his own power. Hunter stood there, close enough to touch, as still as the night was dark.
“Go away.” Gabriel crushed the flame to nothing and shook the ash from his palm. He turned to walk toward the far corner of the mall, where all the delivery bays were. “Shouldn’t you be back there macking on Becca, anyway?”
Hunter followed him. “You don’t want to provoke him.”
“Actually, that’s exactly what I want to do.”
“He’ll kill you,” Hunter said. “He’s trying to play nice, to help because of Becca, but if you push him to it, he’ll ”
“Oh, how do you know?” Gabriel rounded on him, his breath clouding in the air. “You don’t know shit, Hunter. You don’t know ”
It felt colder suddenly, and Gabriel wondered if Hunter was responsible. The change felt different, subtler than when Nick affected the air. “I knew my father.” Hunter’s voice was low.
“Don’t cry to me about Daddy. I’m not in the mood.”
Hunter moved closer. “Becca’s father is stronger than you are. If you push him, he’ll retaliate.”
Gabriel craved that, a knock-down, drag-out rematch. It was almost enough to send him back into the mall, throw caution to the wind, and fight.
Almost.
He ducked his head and started walking. “Go away.”
“I don’t know why I was worried,” Hunter said from behind him. “Considering you only seem to know how to run and hide.”
Gabriel swung around and hit him.
Or he tried to. Hunter had some serious military training, and he deflected the blow easily.
But Gabriel was no stranger to fighting dirty. He caught Hunter with a solid punch to the stomach.
Hunter got him in the jaw.
And then they were fighting in earnest.
Christ, it felt fantastic to drive his fist into something. Especially when Hunter fought back with enough force to really make it worth it. Enough force that Gabriel started to wonder if this would turn into a test of endurance.
Enough force that Gabriel started to wonder if he could win.
His back slammed into the concrete wall of the mall. Breath rushed out of his lungs. He braced against the wall to throw Hunter off, getting enough leverage to shove the other boy to the ground. He followed him down to pin him there.
“Whoa, hold up,” Hunter said, breathless. He made his hands into a T. “If I tear my clothes, my grandmother will shit a brick.”
Gabriel stared down at him, unsure whether to let him go.
Then he caught the glint of light on steel under Hunter’s jacket.
“You are one crazy bastard. You really did come armed.”
“Sure.”
“You had a gun and you still fought me like that?”
Hunter grinned. “Wait you were fighting for real? ”
Yeah, he had been but suddenly it didn’t seem so important.
Gabriel let him go.
Hunter rolled to his feet and dusted bits of grass from his hair. “You want a ride home?”
His brothers were still here. Gabriel could see their red SUV
across the parking lot. But getting a ride home with his brothers meant going back into the mall and facing the Guide.
“Yeah,” he said. “I do.”
The fight had loosened something in him. Not permanently Gabriel was too smart for that. But something about it felt good. Reassuring. Steadying, in a way.
It had been so long that Gabriel almost didn’t recognize it for what it was, until after they’d driven home, not talking, just listening to the music pouring from Hunter’s radio. Until after he’d let himself into an empty house, a luxury he didn’t experience very often.
It felt like the beginning of friendship.
Math class.
Hell.
Ms. Anderson was ten times more annoying than old Riley. If Gabriel had to put up with her asking students to come up to the whiteboard and struggle through problems in front of the class, at least she should have legs to write home about.
He worried about getting called, but she seemed to be going in alphabetical order and the class was almost over. Merrick was safely stationed in the second half of the alphabet.
He glanced to his right. Layne looked equally bored. Then again, she could probably do these equations in her head.
And what was with her and the old turtlenecks?
Gabriel watched her a moment too long, hoping she’d feel the weight of his eyes and turn her head. But she didn’t, and he finally felt like a freak and turned back to the front of the class with a sigh.
Taylor Morrissey turned around in her seat and flicked a piece of paper his way.
He caught it and unfolded it under his notebook.
Pink gel pen, scripty letters.
Why are you staring at, lesbo?
Because Layne had helped him. Because he was intrigued. Because he’d learned when his parents died that it wasn’t human nature to help, not really. It was human nature to seek out vulnerability and squash it.
That’s why he didn’t buy this bullshit with the Guide.
Taylor glanced over her shoulder, hair and lip gloss equally shiny.
Gabriel gave her a confused look and shrugged, like he didn’t know what she was talking about.
“Gabriel Merrick.”
Oh, shit.
He snapped his eyes forward, surprised at how fast his palms went damp. “What?”
Ms. Anderson gestured to the board. “Do you care to tackle the next problem?”
He gave her half a smile. “Not really, no.”
Three girls near him giggled. Ms. Anderson didn’t even crack a smile. “Humor me.”
He stared at the board. There was a triangle there, numbers written along two of the three sides, another number tucked into one of the angles.
“Solve for the missing side,” said Ms. Anderson. “We’ve been doing this the whole period.”
That didn’t mean he’d been listening for the whole period.
“Just look at the previous one,” Layne hissed under her breath. “It’s the exact same formula.”
He glanced at the problem to the left. Jake Bryerly had found the answer. A completely different triangle, with lengthy equations laid out in rows beneath it.
He’d never be able to do this.
“Mr. Merrick?”
Gabriel slid from behind his desk and approached the board.
He wished he had his lighter.
Instead, he picked up a dry-erase marker and stared at the triangle. He’d never known a simple shape could be so intimidating.
Alan Hulster snorted from the middle of the classroom. “I think reading a scoreboard is about the most advanced math Merrick is capable of.”
Half the class laughed. Gabriel looked back at him. “Keep it up and you’ll find out what else I’m capable of.”
Now the class did that ooooh sound that predicated a fight or a trip to the principal’s office. Hulster laughed again, but it sounded a little strangled. He didn’t hold Gabriel’s eyes. “Whatever, man.”
“That’s enough.” Ms. Anderson gestured back to the board, her expression patient. “Go ahead.”
Gabriel put his pen against the whiteboard. Christ, his hand was shaking.
The lights in the classroom flickered, the fluorescent bulbs buzzing with power.
Get it together. He took a deep breath.
“Maybe you should start with something easier,” called Hulster, fed by Gabriel’s obvious hesitation. “Maybe line up some cheerleaders and he can count them ”
“Shut up.” Another flicker.
Hulster laughed. “Look, man, I can’t help it if you’re too stupid to ”
Half the lights in the classroom exploded.
Mayhem. Girls screamed and students bolted for the doors.
Ms. Anderson was trying to assume some kind of control.
Gabriel felt the power in the air, the way the electricity wanted to arc onto paper, to clothing, to find something consumable and burn. He stood there in front of the board, the stupid marker clenched in his fist, trying to keep the electricity right where it was supposed to be.
The end-of-class bell rang, flooding the hallways with people.
Ms. Anderson raced after students who’d already made it out of the classroom.
If anyone was hurt, it was his fault.
“Are you all right?”
His eyes flicked open. He didn’t even remember closing them.
Layne stood there in front of him, her backpack hanging loose over one shoulder. They were the only people left in the darkened classroom.
Gabriel swallowed. “No.”
She frowned. “Do you need me to get the nurse ”
He shook his head quickly. “No . . . yeah . . . I’m fine.” He paused. “Why do you keep trying to help me?”
“Because you look like you need it.”
He studied her, the dark-framed glasses, the length of braid that fell down along one shoulder. He’d dismissed her as being nondescript, but she really wasn’t. Her hair shined in the braid, and her eyes were bright and intelligent. No freckles, just soft, clear skin. Being smart wasn’t always easy, not in high school, anyway. Maybe she dressed this way on purpose, to avoid attention. It made him think of that note Taylor had tossed onto his desk, the comments from that dickhead Hulster. Everyone was so quick to pounce on weakness.
“Hold still,” he said, reaching out. “You have glass in your hair.”
He could swear she stopped breathing. He picked two pieces free and then had to use both hands to work loose a third that had gotten trapped.
“I could help you,” she said.
“Nah,” he said. “I think this is the last piece.” He picked at a shard caught by her ear.
“No, I meant . . .” Her voice almost squeaked. “I meant with the trig stuff.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Nick my brother he’s tried. It’s a waste of time.”
“So you’re just going to keep switching?” She frowned up at him. “Ms. Anderson isn’t an idiot like Riley. I think she’ll catch on.”
“No one has caught on for four years,” he said, brushing past her to get his backpack. His feet crunched on broken glass. “I’m a senior. People like to look the other way. “
“I’d still like to try. Maybe at lunch ”
“We don’t have lunch at the same time.”
“Oh,” she said, thrown. Then she seemed to realize he was brushing her off. “Okay. Sorry. Forget it.” She turned away.
Gabriel sighed. “Wait.”
His free period was right after lunch. It was supposed to be for study hall, but they weren’t required to study. Most kids went to the library or the computer center; he usually went to the weight room.
Why was he even considering this?
Because he hated hearing Hulster heckle him.
Even more, he hated that Hulster was right.
“I do have a free period,” he said. “Fifth period. Your lunch hour, right?”
Layne looked up at him. “Meet you in the library?”
He hefted his backpack onto his shoulder. “Can’t wait.”
Gabriel broke off half a protein bar inside his backpack.
They weren’t allowed to eat in here, but he was bored and Layne hadn’t shown up yet.
Some kids at the next table glared at him, and he glared back.
He checked the time on his phone. Her lunch period had started ten minutes ago.
Maybe she was grabbing a quick bite to eat.
He fidgeted and ate the second half of his protein bar.
Now she was fifteen minutes late. The period was only forty-five minutes long.
Gabriel slammed his trig book back into his backpack. He was being stood up for a study date? To study something he hated?
Maybe this had been a joke. Like Hulster’s heckling, only meaner.
He imagined Taylor’s voice. OMG, you really thought I would help an idiot like you?
But Layne wasn’t anything like Taylor. She wouldn’t do that.
Would she?
He should have gone to the gym.
He still had time. He even had to walk down the freshman/sophomore wing to get there, so if he passed Layne in the hall, he could brush her off and make it seem like he was the one ditching her.
The halls in this half of the school were empty. He could hear some sort of squeaking or scuffling up around the next corner, and he hoped two kids weren’t trying to get it on right in the middle of the hallway.
No, but he found Layne. And three boys. Half her hair had come loose from the braid, and her face was red and tear streaked. The shortest of the boys stood by her side, also red-faced, but with fury, not tears.
The other two kids had their backpacks and they were dump-ing the contents in the middle of the aisle. Binders split open and papers went everywhere.
One laughed. Red hair, freckles, face and hands still soft.
“Oops,” he said. “Hate when that happens.”
The boy beside Layne rushed forward to shove him, saying something unintelligible.
The other kid grabbed him by the shoulder and flung him away, sending him to the ground to skid on the papers. Some tore.
They hadn’t even noticed Gabriel yet.
“Knock it off!” cried Layne. “I’m going to get ”
“You’re going to shut up,” said the other kid. “We’re sick of you and that retard.”
Then he shoved her to the ground.
Gabriel didn’t even remember moving. He just had the kid by the front of the shirt and he’d slammed him up against the lockers. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
The boy wilted. His mouth worked for a moment, no sound coming out.
Gabriel slammed him again, a little harder, a little rougher.
“Talk.”
He didn’t, just hung there shaking.
The other bully bolted down the hallway. Didn’t matter
Gabriel would find him later.
He looked back at the one he had pinned and clapped him on the side of the head. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make the kid flinch. “Want me to knock some sense into you?”
The boy shook his head quickly. “No we were just we were it’s they’re ”
“Shut it,” said Gabriel. “I catch you screwing with them again and you won’t be around to talk about it. Get it?”
The kid nodded, his head bobbing hard.
Gabriel let him go. He slipped and skidded and almost fell in the stream of papers, but he found his footing and bolted after his friend.
Layne and the younger boy were staring after them. The boy had a grin on his face now. He poked Layne in the arm and made a bunch of complicated hand gestures, then pointed to Gabriel.
Sign language.
Now Gabriel understood the unintelligible scream of rage when things were being strewn about the hallway. He remembered the bully’s comment about someone being a retard.
Layne sighed. “Thanks.” She bent to start sorting the papers.
The boy poked her arm again, more aggressively this time.
He had to be a younger brother Gabriel could read that dynamic like a book. But the boy signed again, and then pointed at Gabriel.
Layne rolled her eyes and didn’t look at him.
“What’s he saying?” said Gabriel.
“He said thanks,” said Layne.
The boy punched her in the shoulder and said something emphatically. It took Gabriel a moment to work out the words.
“Tell him, Layne.”
Layne sighed again and looked up. Her voice was flat. “He said that was fucking awesome.”
Gabriel grinned. “You can take them next time, buddy.”
He’d spoken without thinking, but before he could glance at Layne to translate, the boy grinned back and held out a fist.
Gabriel bumped it with his own.
“This is my little brother,” said Layne. Her hands signed while she talked. “His name is Simon.”
Gabriel bent and began helping them catch the loose papers.
“Freshman?”
“Yeah.” She paused, and then signed while she spoke. “It’s Simon’s first year at a real school.” She stopped signing and covered her mouth. “In case you couldn’t tell, it’s not going well.”
Simon punched her in the shoulder again.
Layne dropped her hand. “And he hates it when I don’t let him see what I’m saying.”
Simon was signing again, so fast that Gabriel had no idea how anyone would be able to make sense of it.
But Layne did. “He wants to know if you’re going out for basketball again this year. He just made the JV team. He made me take him to every basketball game last year, so he saw you play.”
Everyone made JV, but Gabriel didn’t say that. “Yeah,” he said, “varsity tryouts are Friday.” He probably didn’t have to show up.
“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the library.” Layne gestured to the mess around them. “I was busy.”
“It’s cool,” he said, feeling a flash of guilt that he’d assumed she was standing him up. “Let me know if those dicks mess with you again.”
“Why?” she said, her voice flat again. “You gonna rumble under the bleachers?”
“What does that mean?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” She shoved the last of her papers into her backpack. She tapped her brother on the arm, and then signed while speaking, “Come on, Simon.”
Gabriel studied her, nonplussed. “You’re mad at me?”
“Maybe if you thought with something other than your fists, you’d be passing math on your own.”
Gabriel stared, having no idea what to say.
And in that moment of silence, she picked up her backpack and rounded the corner, without once looking back.