Sunblind (30 page)

What? No . . . no! I can't do that. I don't say a word, but my head is shaking so Rayna will understand I can't be of help. But she insists.

“Please, Dominy . . . help me.”

I look up at the three souls who destroyed the one that I'm holding, and I can't believe what I'm witnessing. Napoleon is so lost in his own grief and guilt that he can't even look at me. Luba is so lost in her own newly acquired beauty that she's actually staring at herself in the mirror, admiring her renewed looks. Only Nadine is watching me; only Nadine cares what I'll do next.

“Well, Dominy,” she says. “Are you going to grant the poor girl her last request?”

There's absolutely no reaching Nadine; there isn't a shred of humanity or decency or morality inside her body. How did she ever turn into something so vile? And how can I ever do what Rayna is asking of me?”

“With my help.”

Jess's light appears before me. Its glow is soft, not the blinding, show-offy light I've grown accustomed to, but more like the spark of a night-light, just enough to let me know that I'm not alone and that I have nothing to be afraid of.

“Please, Dominy . . .” Rayna says, gasping for breath. “I can't stand . . . the pain.”

“Jess, I . . . I can't do this,” I say, the tears flowing down my cheeks and stinging my flesh.

The golden light grows large enough to wrap around me, reminding me that Jess is nearby; she's with me like she's always promised.

“I can't do this for you,” Jess says. “But I will take Rayna with me and bring her to the other side.”

I know that I've killed before; I know that I've taken life, but it was always as a wolf. It was always when I was buried underneath an uncontrollable spirit. This will be the first time I'll take a life as a human being, with forethought and not in self-defense. But looking at Rayna's misshapen, broken body and the pain slithering out of her eyes, I know that it's the only humane thing to do.

“Please, God, forgive me.”

Slowly I place my shaking hand on top of Rayna's mouth, and at first her tiny body struggles. The will to live is such an incredible force; it's built into all of us and stays with us no matter how much we plead for death. All I can hear is my own crying, so I have no idea if Rayna is making any sounds when I press down just a little bit harder. I keep my hand there until her body stops moving, until I see, for the second time, a soul release itself from its bodily host.

This time is different than when Essie died; this time Rayna has Jess waiting to take her on the next phase of her journey. I don't know where she'll wind up, but I know that it has to be better than here. Holding Rayna's lifeless body in my arms, I take solace in knowing that I helped in some small way to make her afterlife more bearable than her death.

“Well done, Dominy,” Nadine comments. “A bit on the sentimental side, but really, well done.”

I don't have the strength to answer or argue with or attack Nadine; I have to use every ounce of strength I have left to bury Rayna's body. Let her family and Jeremy think she ran away or was kidnapped. I can't allow them to see her body like this; such a sight would be incomprehensible to them. No, I have to reserve my strength to dig a hole in the ground somewhere deep in the woods and cover Rayna's body with dirt so she'll never be found.

And save just enough strength so I can cry myself to sleep tonight.

Chapter 25

The graves are piling up.

Everywhere I turn I see another tombstone belonging to someone who died because of me. Some of them I killed, some of them I watched die, and one died thinking he was doing me a favor. Jess, my father, that vagrant Elliot, Essie, and now Rayna. Five for one. The odds really suck if you come into contact with me.

Each day since Rayna's death—correction, since I killed Rayna—has been worse than the one before. Each day since then I've carried with me those five lives, the people who are no longer living and wondered what they'd be doing if they hadn't known me, if they'd never met me. They could be celebrating each day of their lives, enjoying the simplest pleasures or ignoring the gift that they'd been given. It doesn't matter; at least they'd still be alive.

Sitting in my classes, working through cheerleading practice, hanging out at home, all I can see are five mutilated and defiled and half-eaten corpses, piled one on top of the other to form a teetering death tower, a symbol of the horror I've unleashed onto this town. That's my gift to the world. And all I can think is that the world would be a better place if only I had never been born.

It doesn't matter that my father was the catalyst or that Luba was the origin or that Nadine is the disciple. If it weren't for me, none of this would have happened. It's that simple.

“No, it isn't, Dominy, and you know that.”

The ramifications of my being born and turning sixteen might be complicated, Mr. Dice, but break it down and every death has a common denominator: me.

“I'm really not in the mood for any more Omikami advice,” I say. “Protect my brother, kill my brother, don't trust Napoleon, no wait he can be trusted, kill Rayna it'll all be okay, listen to my gut, you're never alone. I'm tired of it, Mr. Dice, and I don't know how much more of this I can take!”

“You've been dealt a difficult hand of cards; that's true,” he replies. “But you can't cut a new deck.”

I hear someone in the study hall laugh, and I assume it's me. “Sounds like you're getting your spiritual guidance from an old detective movie.”

“Sorry, sometimes things do get lost in translation,” he adds. “How about
kishi kaisei
?”

Wake from death and return to life. The words Archie spoke at Jess's funeral.

“What if I don't want to?”

“Well, in the end the choice is yours, Dominy,” he says. “You can make whatever decision you wish. But remember . . .”

“Oh my God,” I interrupt. “Please do not tell me that I'm blessed.”

“No,” he says. “Remember that with every choice there are consequences.”

When I turn to the right to face Mr. Dice, he's no longer there. His words cling to me as I walk out into the hall, I think I understand their meaning, but my mind is so cluttered and anxious, I'm not a hundred percent sure that I know what he meant. Maybe one of these days someone will actually say exactly what's on their mind instead of just being cryptic.

“I love you, Dominy.”

My boyfriend has the most perfect timing. Let's see if he can follow up his words with action. Right here in the hallway.

“If that's true,” I whisper, “then . . . make love to me.”

If Caleb is startled by my brazen request he doesn't show it, not in his expression or his body language. His beautiful brown eyes don't blink; they don't glance around to focus on something other than me; they gaze right into my eyes as if they're connected to me by some silly imaginary thread. Obviously, the connection isn't as strong as I thought.

“No,” he replies softly.

No? Doesn't every guy fantasize that his girlfriend is going to ask him to sleep with her? Isn't that why they ask a girl out in the first place, in the hopes that it's going to lead to her bedroom or the backseat of their car? Why does my boyfriend have to be different? And why is he leading me into an empty classroom and closing the door behind us? Hmm, has he changed his mind?

“I dream about making love to you, Dominy, which is not something I ever thought I'd admit to you,” Caleb says, blushing slightly. “And one day I hope to make that dream come true, but I want it to come true because we both want it.”

Someone hasn't been listening.

“I just told you what I wanted,” I snap.

“And I want to have sex with the girl, not the wolf.”

Caleb's hand reaches out to grab mine. I know his touch will be soft and welcoming and warm, but I don't want that right now. I want rough and unkind and painful. I want to be hurt; I want to be blamed; I want to be punished for the things that I've done!

“That's ridiculous!” I shout.

“You don't want to have sex with me because you love me or even because you just want to get it over with and I happen to be around,” he says. “You want a distraction so you can forget about everything that's going on.”

No, Caleb, I don't love you. Right now I hate you. For being right.

“So I'll forget, and you'll finally get laid,” I reply, wincing a bit at how crude I sound. “Don't guys consider that a win-win?”

Caleb gazes at me with such intensity that I'm the one who has to turn away.

“You really have no idea how I feel about you, do you?”

Wiping away my tears, I have to cover my face for a minute until I stop shaking and before I can speak again. “I do know how you feel. That's the problem.”

“Because you don't feel the same way?”

This time I reach out to Caleb, awkwardly grabbing his wrist and his forearm, any part of his body, just to have an anchor to something good. His blond curls are pushed back, no longer falling against his forehead. I wonder for a second if this is the way his hair fell today or if it's a new hairstyle that I'm just noticing. Why don't I know these things?

“Before all this started I wasn't sure how I felt about you, Caleb,” I say, rubbing my fingers along his knuckles. “I mean, there's no one else I want as my boyfriend, never has been, but was I in love with you? I wasn't sure.”

“What about now?” he asks, placing his hand on top of mine. The calluses underneath his fingertips feel good against my soft skin. Too good.

Pulling my hands away from his abruptly, I cross my arms and lean against the door. “It doesn't matter how I feel, Caleb, because I'm not worthy of your love. I'm not worthy of anybody's!”

“Oh will you shut up with that!”

His voice hits me like a cannonball, and I'm stunned; Caleb's never spoken to me like that before. And he's never looked so pissed off either. Throwing his books onto an empty desk, Caleb starts to pace the room, and for the first time I notice that his muscular body could be more than sexy and alluring; it could also be dangerous. The way that he's snarling at me and clenching his fists, I'm not sure what he's going to do to me. I wanted to be hurt; well, maybe Caleb's going to do just that.

“I . . . I'm sorry,” I stutter.

“So am I!” he yells. “Because obviously I can't do anything right! I stand by you; you push me away. I try to uncover the truth about Nadine; you yell at me! I tell you that I love you, and it's not good enough. What do you want from me, Dominy?! I mean seriously, what do you want from me?!”

Instinctively, Caleb knows I don't have an answer, so he doesn't wait for me to respond.

“Do you want me to go away and leave you alone? Do you want me to forget everything about you, everything that we've been through? Because if that's what you want, just let me know and I'll do it!”

“Is that what you want, Caleb?” I ask. “Would you like to forget you ever met me?”

I'm terrified to hear his reply. But thrilled when I hear him scream.

“No!! That's not what I want, and you know it! What I want is my girlfriend back! The one who wasn't afraid to share things with me no matter how ugly they got. I mean for God's sake, Dominy, I know that you're a werewolf and I've stood by you! What more proof do you want that I love you and I'm not going to leave you?”

You might if you found out that I killed when I wasn't a wolf, that I'm actually capable of taking a life when I'm not covered in fur.

“I'm sorry, Caleb,” I mumble. “I just don't know how much more of this I can take.”

He stares at me for a moment before picking up his books. His voice is quiet, but I can hear what he says just before he leaves the room. “Neither do I.”

Nice going, Robineau; push away the only boyfriend you'll probably ever have. Well, if I'm not going to have sex, I might as well feed.

A few hours later I'm standing within a thicket of trees, the radiance of the full moon above slicing through the branches and bouncing off the snow-covered ground to create a prism of light that sprinkles me with its power. Bending to the moon's will, I feel the burning and then the breaking and then I'm gone, replaced by something stronger, something that never questions what it is: the werewolf. And tonight I'm going to allow it to be as violent as it wants to be.

I see a cluster of tiny footprints in the snow and bury my snout in them. The scent is fresh. A rabbit family is nearby, but that's not what we want to feed on tonight. Through the darkness I see a fox, its fur the same deep shade of red as mine, and when it sees me it becomes paralyzed, unable to flee to safety. I could devour it and imagine that it's really Melinda Jaffe wearing her fur coat. Growling deeply, I thrust my head forward, and finally the fox races into the brush; it scurries away never knowing that I had no intention of chasing after it. No, tonight is going to be a special kill, and I'm prepared to wait until dawn to find it.

An hour later my search is over. Slowly I move toward my prey, pressing each paw down lightly onto the snow so I don't make a sound, letting my body sway naturally with each step. If only the deer would turn its head, it would see that I look like the hunter that I am.

My fangs pierce the deer's neck while it's still chewing on some grass. The impact causes it to topple over; its legs furiously try to regain contact with the ground, but do nothing but stir the night air. I rip my mouth away from its neck and take with it a chunk of flesh that I quickly devour. The taste is pungent and fresh and bloody, and I can feel my saliva growing in my mouth. I need more.

Just as the deer is about to stand up, its bent, quivering legs almost vertical, I attack again, this time with my claws as well as my fangs. Ripping deep into its flesh until I scrape bone, burrowing my snout inside the deer's stomach to expose its organs, biting through skin to swallow the fresh meat just underneath. This is more than just a feeding; this is a ritual. This curse began with the death of a deer, and that's how it will continue. Unleash my savage lust onto the animal that started this horror.

When I'm finished, when my own belly is bloated and my white fangs stained red with the blood of my prey, I step back and look at the ravaged animal with pride. Then I clamp down hard on its neck, the part that's left of it, and I drag the animal away from the bushes and trees and rocks onto a flat, untouched piece of ground, the corpse's blood smearing the ground, creating a red rainbow so my kill can be visible. Some dead bodies were never meant to be buried.

And others were never meant to be found. Which doesn't mean they won't be missed. When Rayna didn't show up for class there were a few whispers among the student body. When she missed the first practice for the upcoming regional cheerleading competition, speculation about her whereabouts grew. And this morning when her face appears on the cover of the
Three
W as the suspected latest victim of the Full Moon Killer, the school is whipped into a frenzy.

I don't know how I survive listening to Dumbleavy's latest speech about how we can't assume the worst has befallen our friend and how we can't give in to fear. Oh really? Crawl inside my head, and I'll show you something to be afraid of. He urges us to continue to hope and pray and tell the police anything that Rayna might have said or that we might know about her that could provide a clue as to her whereabouts. I feel like raising my hand and asking Dumbleavy if he'd like to know where Rayna's spirit or her body is because I could lead him to both. The first is within Psycho Squaw; the second is in an unmarked grave in the middle of the low hills. I wonder if he'll label me a hero or the murderer that I am.

I have the same question for my friends.

My sanctuary becomes cramped when Caleb, Archie, and Arla ignore my requests to leave me alone and they barge into the small music closet. I was having such a wonderful time sitting in the corner, reliving the moment when I killed Rayna, banging my fists into the foam soundproof walls, screaming until my lungs ached. Such good times ruined by such good friends.

Well, let's see how good.

“Dominy, you have to stop avoiding us,” Archie declares.

“It's been like living with the Invisible Girl instead of a werewolf these past few days,” Arla says.

Oh to be invisible! Now
that
would be a curse I could handle. Never have to see anyone again, never have to worry if they can see the death that clings to my face, that I can't shake off no matter how many times I try to smile or laugh or cry.
Why couldn't you have cursed me with invisibility instead, Psycho?!

“Domgirl, I am going to tell you one more time you are not alone,” Caleb whispers. “So knock it the hell off and stop acting as if you are.”

The three of them have joined me on the floor, Caleb sitting next to me, his arm around me, and Archie and Arla kneeling in front of me. I stare at them for a moment and take them in, making sure I remember what they look like because I've been missing so many important details lately. Archie's cut his hair again, the left side anyway, buzzed it short while the right side has retained its length. He looks handsome as always, his violet eyes twinkling against the white backdrop that is his face.