The Beautiful and the Damned (15 page)

Her head was beginning to hurt, and she rubbed the back of her neck. “I think I blacked
out,” she babbled on. “I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

Cyn stared up at him and felt like her soul was being laid bare. Could he see the
darkness inside her? Did he know about the money she’d influenced people to give her,
the cars she’d stolen, and what she’d done to Hunter?

“I can read your memories,” he said. “ It should help us figure out what happened
here.”

He slanted his head, and a piece of brown hair fell across his face. He ran a hand
through his hair, raking it back, and it suddenly struck Cyn how very human that gesture
was. She nodded her consent, and he touched her forehead. He closed his eyes for a
couple of minutes, and then it was all over.

“You told the clerk to take the car and he did. Then you went behind the register,
smoked a cigarette, and found the gun under the counter. Then you woke up.”

“That’s it?” Astonishment filled Cyn’s voice. “That’s all that happened?”

“That’s it.”

He left out the part where Vincent had wanted to turn the gun on her. To follow through
with his exit plan. If she hadn’t come to when she did, she probably wouldn’t still
be alive.

“But what about the surveillance videos? They’re going to see all of this, and even
if I didn’t technically do anything wrong, the cops are still going to come asking
questions.”

Avian glanced up at the small white camera propped above them. “No blinking light.
For confirmation, he pulled it down and looked it over before putting it back. “It’s
a fake.”

Relief swept over Cyn as he checked the other three cameras in the opposite corners
of the store and confirmed they were fakes too.

When Avian came back to the register, he walked around the counter and picked up the
gun, carefully wiping it clean of any prints with the edge of his T-shirt. Then he
returned it to its spot under the counter. He also wiped down the phone she used.

Everything looked the same way it had when she first walked in—minus the store clerk.

“Let’s go,” Avian said.

“We can’t leave the store with no one in it.”

In reply, he flipped the light switch off, turned the
OPEN
sign to
CLOSED
on the door, and locked the door behind them. “Done.”

Cyn followed him out to his motorcycle and glanced one more time at the now-darkened
store. She still felt edgy and
nervous. Without another word, they climbed onto the back of his bike and he drove
away.

But they didn’t go back to the church. He just kept driving right past the rectory
and ended up on a road Cyn didn’t recognize. She closed her eyes and leaned into him,
breathing in the cold night air. It was a jagged knife to her lungs that kept her
alert and awake. A shock to her system. Like finding yourself suddenly swimming in
a cold pool.

Or maybe it was more like drowning.

The road turned into a wooded lane, and trees crowded around them. She could see that
less than a hundred feet ahead the path dead-ended and there was nothing but a yawning
black hole. Then Cyn realized that the distant roaring and crashing noises she could
hear were coming from the black hole. As the bike got closer, the noises got louder.

He took them right up to the edge and parked.

It was a bluff overlooking a massive waterfall. Moonlight revealed white-crested currents
crashing against giant boulders at the bottom of the falls, and even from as high
up as she was, Cyn could feel the magnetic pull of the water coursing through her.

She glanced over at Avian. “Thought you might want some time to think,” he said.

“Yeah. Thanks.” She put her hands in her pockets and felt the pack of cigarettes.
“Do you mind if I smoke?”

He shook his head. Cyn pulled one out but didn’t light it right away. Her thumb stroked
the smooth packet as she thought everything over.
What if the next blackout is the one where I hurt someone? Or kill them? Again. I
can’t let that happen. I have to stop this.

Bracing herself, she took a step forward.

Thirteen’s hand shot out and gripped her shoulder. “Don’t get any ideas. At least
not while I’m here. I don’t want to have to clean up the mess.”

“It’s not safe for anyone to be around me anymore. It’s not safe for
me
to be around me anymore. This is the only way to make sure I don’t hurt someone again—”

She stopped. Realizing what she’d just said.

“Stop being so dramatic. You’re an Echo. That’s the reason for the blackouts.”

His words stopped her dead in her tracks.

“I’m a . . . what?”

“An Echo. A conduit for souls of the dead. That’s why you can’t remember anything
during the blackouts. There’s another soul inside you that comes to the surface during
that time.”

“Wait . . . so you’re saying I have someone else inside me?” Her voice grew shrill.
“I
knew
it! I knew I was possessed.”

“It’s not possession. That happens when someone is sharing their body with a demonic
entity. You share yours with the dead. Misplaced souls.”

“So that means I have
two
souls? How is that even possible?”

“Technically, your soul is made up of other people’s souls. It’s complicated, but
the basic gist is that when certain people die, their souls seek out an Echo to live
in for a while before finally moving on. I don’t know if it’s some unfinished-business
shit or what, but that’s what happens. They have to go somewhere. When they’re finally
ready to move on to the afterlife, a little piece of them gets left behind and becomes
part of your soul.”

“Like a quilt.” Cyn turned to face him. “My soul is made up of a bunch of other pieces
of souls like the squares of fabric that make a quilt.”

“Right. So
your
soul is a quilt. Get it? Got it? Good.”

“How long does someone else get to live inside my body?”

“Until they move on or another soul takes over. You said you see faces in the mirror
beneath yours. Are they continuously there?”

Cyn shook her head. “Sometimes there’s a break. Every time that’s happened, I thought
I was fixed. I should have known better. It always came back.” Cyn glanced up at him.
“Why did this happen to me?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “It’s who you are. You just have to deal with it.”

“Just
deal
with it? Do you have any idea what it feels like to lose complete control over your
body? To wake up and have no idea where you are or what you’ve been doing? To be the
freak on the playground who scratches her face because she’s trying to get rid of
the man she sees there every time she looks in the mirror?”

Cyn stopped abruptly and took a step away from him. But Avian reached for her. Wrapping
his fingers around her arm.

“I know what it’s like to be fucked up. You’re not the only one. To know that you’re
a mistake you can’t do anything about. I know what it’s like to be despised by everyone
you know, to do things that you wish you could take back. . . .”

“Like what?” Cyn taunted. She was angry at him. Angry at this piece of information
he just dropped in her lap. Angry that he could act like it was no big deal. “What
do you wish you could take back?”

His gaze shifted down to her lips. “This. I know I’m going to want to take back this.”

And then he kissed her.

S
he tasted like the rain. Cold and clean and fresh. Her fists wrapped around his shirt,
and she pulled him closer, making a soft sound. Her lips were cool, but the fire inside
him burned hot. His hand slid from her wrist up to her cheek. His thumb tracing a
path against her skin.

There hadn’t been anyone else since Shelley died. He’d never even been tempted. Until
now.

Then she pushed him away.

“Can you take me back to the house? I just want to go back.”

She turned away from him, and he saw it for the rejection that it was.

Avian nodded, and she silently climbed onto the motorcycle.
She was so slight, he could barely feel her behind him. When they finally pulled up
to the rectory, she left him outside without a second glance and went into the house.
He put his motorcycle away and then followed her.

She was on the couch when he walked in, flipping idly through the pages of
Through the Looking Glass, and What Alice Found There.
She frowned every now and then as she read.

Ten minutes later, she put the book down and disappeared from the room. The sound
of a shower started. When she came back, her hair was blond instead of brown, and
her skin was slightly damp. She smelled like something fruity.

Avian was trying to figure out if the smell was bubble gum or cherry, then suddenly
realized what he was doing. He left the room abruptly.

His bike needed some attention. Outside, away from here.

Away from
her
.

~  ~  ~

After a couple of hours, Avian called it quits on the bike and went back inside the
house to wash the grease from his knuckles. Cyn had fallen asleep on the couch. A
tangle of blond hair was crumpled on the cushion next to her.

A wig.

That explained the sudden change in hair color right after her shower.

Her bare neck was exposed, and something caught his eye. He moved closer. Belatedly
registering the fact that her real hair color was the exact same shade of red as Shelley’s,
he stared down at the three freckles on the back of her neck forming a perfect triangle.

It was the same spot where Shelley had gotten her tattoo: three dots to make a triangle.

Three dots. Three freckles.

It was a perfect match.

She suddenly rolled over, and he took a step back. Not wanting to look like a . . .
well, like a creepy guy who was going to murder her in her sleep like she thought.

“ ‘One, two! One, two!’ ” she mumbled. “ ‘And through and through. The vorpal blade
went snicker-snack!’ Snicker-snack. Snicker-snack. The blade went snicker-snack!”

He bent to pick up the book she’d been reading. That was something from the poem “Jabberwocky.”

Cyn rolled over again and tossed one arm above her head. Making little whimpering
sounds. Like she was lost. Or scared. “They can’t get me. Don’t let them get me!”

He went over to her, shaking her shoulder. “Cyn. Wake up. You’re having a night—”

As soon as he touched her, garbled flashes of police sirens, bloodstained sheets,
and the sound of her crying instantly filled his head. It was obvious that something
bad had happened.

The question was what.

Avian was so focused on deciphering between what was real and what was just a dream
that he didn’t realize he was still shaking her.

“What are you
doing
?”

Cyn’s voice immediately broke his concentration.

She pulled away from him and sat up. Tucking her knees against her chest, she sank
back into the couch. The look on her face was fear.

Was she was afraid of
him
? “You were having a nightmare. I was just trying to wake you up.”

“I have a hard time sleeping sometimes. Just leave me alone.”

“Fine with me,” he said, turning to leave the room. He didn’t stay where he wasn’t
wanted. “Next time I won’t try to help.”

C
yn’s hands were shaky as she sat up on the couch and massaged her temples. She’d been
dreaming about something when Thirteen had woken her up, but she couldn’t remember
what. Now she just felt strung out and even more exhausted. Like she hadn’t gotten
any sleep at all.

She was hungry, too. When she walked into the kitchen, she saw Father Montgomery’s
car back in the driveway and the keys sitting on the counter. How Thirteen had managed
that she didn’t know. But she wasn’t going to stick around to ask.