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All that dark hair … was she … could she be the girl from Elijah’s visions?
Aden stood in place, covered in mud and grime, confused, excited, and trying not to panic. If she spotted him and the carnage surrounding him, she’d shriek. People would come gunning for him. They’d track him, wherever he went. They always tracked him. As he’d feared, he’d be sent away and the kinda sorta freedom he now had would be a thing of the past.
Don’t look, don’t look, please don’t look. The prayer was his own, the souls still strangely quiet. And yet, part of him did want her to look, to see him, to be as intrigued by him as he was by her. If she was the girl he’d seen in those visions … finally …
She was almost past him. Would soon disappear around the corner. And then, as if she sensed his secret desire, she threw a glance over her shoulder. Aden tensed, catching a glimpse of big hazel eyes and pink lips she couldn’t stop chewing.
She scanned the area.
A second later, their gazes met. There was a blast of sound as the world suddenly zoomed in on them—and then nothing. There were no movements. Not their heartbeats, not even their lungs filling with air. There was no yesterday or tomorrow, only here and now.
They were the only two people who existed.
This was peace, Aden thought with shock. True peace. Calm and quiet, no voices in his head, pressing him down, pulling him under, vying for his attention.
Then, everything exploded. There was another blast of sound, as if the world’s focus expanded this time. Cars started back up, birds began chirping and wind whistled through the trees. A sharp gust of it slammed into him and tossed him backward. He landed with a thump, chin jarring his sternum.
That same wind must have hit her, because she stumbled to her butt with a yelp.
There was a twinge of sickness in his stomach, and as he stood his limbs hung loose and heavy. A need to run to her filled him—followed quickly by a need to run from her.
She scrambled upright. After another silent glance, she turned away and rushed down the pass, soon disappearing from view.
The moment Aden lost sight of her, everything returned to normal.
Caleb growled, What the hell?
Pain. Darkness, Eve said, voice trembling. Horrible.
They’d been hurt? How could souls with no bodies feel pain? “What do you mean?” he asked them, though he suspected part of the answer. The girl. Somehow, some way. That odd stillness when their eyes first met … that strange gust of wind …
She’d approached and the dead had fallen. The voices inside his head had faded. She’d looked at him and a peace he’d only dreamed about had encompassed him. She’d left and boom, everything had kicked back to terrible life.
He had to experience that peace again. Could she really be responsible? Was she the one he’d been waiting for?
Fearing the corpses would rise again, he hurriedly removed the heads of the remaining two. But rather than clean the mess, hiding the evidence of what had happened, he found himself gathering his backpack and chasing after her. There was only one way to find out whether she’d done what he thought she’d done. Only one way to find out who exactly she was.
Dude, tell us what happened before I start screaming, Julian said.
“I don’t know what happened. Not exactly.” Truth. He was determined to find out, though. “Are you okay?”
Multiple shouts of No! rang out.
Go back to the house. I have a bad feeling about this, Elijah said, sounding more afraid than Aden had ever heard him.
Aden slowed. Elijah’d had “bad feelings” before, and while they hadn’t been actual predictions, Aden had always heeded them. But what if this was his one and only chance to meet the brunette from those visions?
“I’ll be careful. I swear,” he said.
Aden spotted the girl a block from the cemetery. Once again a strong wind jolted him, sickness seeped into his stomach, and then the world around him became all that he’d ever dreamed. Silent, his thoughts his own.
Dear Lord. She was responsible.
His palms began to sweat. She rounded a corner, heading into a busy intersection. He stuffed his hands into his backpack and dug out his wet wipes, quickening his step and cleaning his face as best he could. He withdrew a clean shirt and stepped into the shadows, then changed, never taking his gaze from the girl.
Would she run screaming if he approached her? Bones had been piled around him, after all.
He waited for his companions to toss out answers, but all remained quiet. It was odd, not having someone tell him what to do, how to do it, or how badly things would end. Odd and strangely agonizing, when he’d thought for years it would be freakishly cool.
For the first time in his life, he was truly on his own. If he messed this up, he’d have no one but himself to blame.
He squared his shoulders and prepared to approach the girl.
TWO
MARY ANN GRAY SPOTTED her friend and neighbor, Penny Parks, and raced toward the outdoor café. “I’m here, I’m here,” she said, pulling the plugs from her ears, Evanescence fading. She stuffed her iPod in her purse, gave her Sidekick a quick check—only one e-mail from her dad asking what she wanted for dinner. Replying could wait.
Penny tsked under her tongue as she handed Mary Ann a capped mocha. “Just in time. You missed the raging power outage. I was inside and all the lights flicked off. No one could get cell reception, and I heard a lady say that all the cars on the road died.”
“There was an outage that caused cars to die?” Weird. Then again, it had been a day for weirdness. Like that boy she’d seen in the cemetery on her way here, who’d somehow caused her to fall—without touching her!
“Are you listening to me?” Penny asked. “Your face totally blanked. Anyway, like I was saying. The outage happened about fifteen minutes ago.”
The exact time she’d been at the cemetery, iPod momentarily silent, unexpected wind blowing. Huh.
“So what took you so long?” Penny asked. “I had to order on my own, and you know that’s not good for my codependency.”
They plopped into the chairs Penny had been saving for them, the sun shining brightly on their table. Mary Ann inhaled deeply, the scents of coffee, whipped cream and vanilla flooding her. God, she loved Holy Grounds. People might approach the stand frowning, but they always emerged with a grin.
As if to prove her point, an older couple walked away from the register, smiling at each other over the rims of their cups. Mary Ann had to look away. Once, her parents had been like that, happy just to be with each other. Then her mother had died.
“Drink, drink,” Penny said. “And while you’re savoring, tell me what held you up.”
Mouth watering, she sipped at her grande white chocolate mocha. Ah, de-freaking-licious. “Like I said, I’m sorry I’m late. I really am. But sadly, my tardiness isn’t the worst of it.”
“Oh, no.” Expression pinched, Penny fell back in her chair. “What’s going on? Don’t break it to me gently. Just rip the Band-Aid.”
“Okay. Here goes.” Deep breath. “I’m not actually done for the day. This is only a thirty-minute break. I have to return to work.” She cringed, waiting for the shouted—
“What!”
And there it was. A small infraction, really, but Penny would see it as a grave offense. She always did. She was a high-maintenance friend who expected their time together to be uninterrupted. Mary Ann didn’t mind. Really. She actually admired the trait. Penny knew what she wanted from the people in her life and expected it to be given to her. And it usually was. Without complaint. Today, however, couldn’t be helped.
“The Watering Pot is providing the floral arrangements for the Tolbert-Floyd wedding tomorrow and all of the employees have to work overtime.”
“Ugh.” Penny shook her head in disappointment. Or was that disapproval? “When are you going to quit your loser job at that flower shop? It’s Saturday, and you’re young. You should be shopping with me as planned rather than slaving over thorns and potting soil.”
Mary Ann studied her friend over the rim of her cup. Penny was a year older than her, with platinum hair, bright blue eyes and pale freckled skin. She liked to pair lacy baby-doll dresses with flip-flops no matter the weather. She was carefree, experienced, had no thoughts for the future, dated who she wanted, when she wanted, and skipped school as often as she attended.
Mary Ann, on the other hand, would vomit blood if she even considered breaking a rule.
She knew why she was the way she was, but that just made her determination to be the “good girl” worse. She and her dad only had each other, and she hated to disappoint him. Which made her friendship with Penny all the stranger, since her dad (silently) objected. But she and Penny had been neighbors for years, had even attended the same preschool when they’d lived miles away from each other. Despite their differences, they had never stopped hanging out. Never would.
Penny was addicting. You didn’t walk away from her without wishing you were still with her. Something about her smile, maybe. When she flashed it, you felt as if all the stars had aligned and nothing bad could happen to you. Well, girls felt that way. Boys caught a glimpse of it and had to wipe away their drool.
“Could you please, please, please call in sick?” Penny begged. “A little dose of Mary isn’t going to be enough.”
When she flashed that smile this time, Mary Ann steeled herself against it. “You know I’m saving for college. I have to work.” Only on the weekends, though. That’s all her dad would allow. Weekdays were devoted to homework.
Penny traced a perfectly manicured fingertip over the rim of her espresso. “Your dad should pay for your education. He can afford it.”
“But that wouldn’t teach me responsibility or the value of a hard-earned dollar.”
“God, you’re quoting him now.” A shudder rocked Penny’s petite frame as she grimaced. “Way to ruin my mood.”
A laugh escaped Mary Ann. “If he paid my way, he’d be screwing with my fifteen-year plan. And no one screws with my fifteen-year plan and lives to tell about it. Not even my dad.”
“Oh, yeah. The fifteen-year plan I can’t get you to rethink no matter what temptation I throw your way.” Penny anchored a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing three silver hoops. “Graduate high school, two years. Bachelors, four. Masters and Ph.D., seven. Intern, one. Open your own practice, one. I don’t know what I’m doing tonight, much less in fifteen years.”
“I can guess what you’ll be doing tonight. Or rather, who. Grant Harrison.” The pair had been on and off for six months. Currently they were off, but that didn’t stop them from hooking up. “Besides, there’s nothing wrong with a little preparation.”
“Little. Ha! I suspect you have your life mapped out to the second. You probably even know what underwear you’ll be wearing in three years, five hours, two minutes and eight seconds.”
“A black lace thong,” Mary Ann responded without hesitation.
That gave Penny a moment of pause. Then she chuckled. “Almost had me, but the thong gave you away. You’re cotton briefs, baby, all the way.”
And all that coverage was a bad thing? “Honestly, I don’t have everything planned. Not even I’m that anal.”
“You said anal.” Penny snickered. “Look, I’ve known you most of your life, and asking people about their feelings wasn’t always what Mary Contrary wanted to do when she grew up. She wanted to dance a ballet to a packed house, kiss whichever celebrity she was crushing on and tattoo her entire body with flowers so she’d look like a garden. You didn’t decide to become a shrink until after your mom—” Realizing she’d taken a wrong turn at Foot In Mouth Lane, she finished with, “You just didn’t!”
Slowly Mary Ann’s smile faded. Deep down, she wasn’t sure she could refute her friend’s claim. She had been a rambunctious girl at one time, giving her parents fits, talking and laughing too loudly, always desperate to be the center of attention and throwing tantrums when she didn’t get her way. Then her mom had died in a car accident. A car accident Mary Ann had been part of, as well. She’d spent three weeks recovering in the hospital. Her body had healed, yes, but not her soul.
Upon her release, the Gray household had fallen into a spiral of sadness, Mary Ann and her father whirling further and further away from the loving if combative family they’d once been. Over time, that sadness had bonded her and her dad. He’d become her best friend, making him proud her biggest goal.
When she’d told him she thought she might like to be a clinical psychologist like him, he’d smiled as if he’d just won the lottery. He’d hugged her. Spun her around, and laughed for the first time in months. No way she could’ve chosen a different path after that. No matter how much she hated studying. Still. Now she couldn’t imagine herself being anything other than a doctor of the mind. And for Penny to give her grief about it, well …
“Let’s talk about something else,” she said stiffly.
“Great. I’ve pissed you off, haven’t I?”
“No.” Yes. Maybe. Usually, they stayed away from the topic of her mother. Though several years had passed, the memories were sometimes too fresh, too raw. “I’d just prefer it if you looked out for your future, not mine.”
Penny sighed loud and long. “I shouldn’t have gone there, and I’m sorry. It’s just, all work and no play makes Mary a dull girl, and I want my sparkly girl back.” When Mary Ann offered no reply, Penny reached out and squeezed her hand. “Come on, Mary Contrary. I can still see the hurt. Forgive me. Please. We’ve only got, what? Fifteen minutes left, and I don’t want to spend it fighting with you. I love you more than anything or anyone and you know I’d cut off my leg and kick my own ass if I could. Maybe even cut out my tongue and nail it to your bedroom wall. And then I’d—”
“Okay, okay.” She laughed, the silly images her friend’s words evoked soothing her. “You’re forgiven.”
“Thank God. But seriously, girl. You really made me work for that one, and you know how I hate to work for anything.” Grinning that irresistible grin of hers, Penny dug a pack of ultrathins and a lighter from her beaded purse. She lit up, inhaling deeply. Soon a thick haze of smoke surrounded them and Penny was reclining in her chair, legs extended. “So what do you want to talk about? Girls we hate? Boys we love?”
Mary Ann cradled her mocha against her chest, leaning back as far as she could go. “Why don’t we discuss the fact that smoking kills?”
“No need. I’m indestructible.”
“You wish,” she said with a grin. But her amusement faded as a short but forceful gust of wind nailed her in the chest. She rubbed the spot just above her heart and gazed around.
That stray wind hadn’t seemed to affect anyone else.
Only one other time had she ever felt such a strong kick. Her stomach began to churn.
“If you won’t put the cigarette out for you, then put it out for me,” she said. “I don’t want to return to work smelling like an ashtray.”
“I have a feeling your roses will love you, anyway,” her friend said dryly and took another drag. “Take pity on me. I’ve been stressed and I need this.” As she spoke, she flicked the ashes on the pavement, attention wandering.
“What have you been stres—”
“Oh, oh, oh. Boy. Three o’clock. He just sat down at the table across from ours. Dark hair, movie-star face and muscles. Dear God, the muscles. Best part, he’s totally scoping you. Best part for you, that is. Why isn’t he scoping me, too?”
Mary Ann’s heart immediately soared into hyperspeed. First that strange wind, and then a dark-haired boy nearby? Please be a coincidence. Leaning forward, shielding her mouth with her hand, she whispered, “Is he dirty?”
“You mean, perverted? I don’t know, but I’m willing to find out. He’s hawt!”
“No. I mean dirty, as in mud and some kind of black gunk all over him? Like motor oil? Are his clothes ripped?”
“His face is dirty, yes. Well, kind of. It’s smeared, like he tried to clean up. But his shirt is clean and oh, so perfect. God, his hair is dyed black but the roots are blond. I wonder if he has a tattoo? That’s sexy. How old do you think he is? Eighteen? He’s tall enough to be legal. And oh, my God, he just looked at me! I think I’m going to faint.”
Besides the shirt, the description fit. Maybe he’d changed.
An emotion she couldn’t name skittered through her. That he might be here …
She’d meant to stop by her mother’s grave before meeting Penny. It was along the way, after all. But she’d taken one look at the boy, experienced that strange gust of wind, and had only wanted to escape.
“I saw him earlier,” she said. “I think … do you think he followed me?”
Eyes widening, Penny shifted in her seat and unabashedly peered over at him. “Probably. A stalker, do you think? God, that’s even sexier!”
“Don’t stare!” she gasped, slapping her friend’s arm.
Unhurried and unrepentant, Penny faced her. “Well, I don’t care if he’s the Tri City Butcher and keeps human hearts in his locker. The more I look at him, the more I like him. Very—” she shivered “—bad-boy chic. I might offer him my heart.”
Bad boy. Yes, that fit, too. Mary Ann didn’t have to turn to remind herself of what he looked like. His image was burned into her mind. As Penny had said, he had black hair with inch-long blond roots. What she hadn’t mentioned was that his face was as perfect as the Grecian statues she’d seen in her world history book, even with the grime. For the briefest of moments, when a beam of sunlight had hit him, Mary Ann would have sworn his eyes were striped with green, brown, blue and gold. But then the ray had disappeared beyond a fluff of clouds and the colors had melted into each other, leaving only an intense black.
The color didn’t matter, though. Those eyes were feral, wild, and she’d felt that undeniable shock of wind—bizarre wind that had ended as quickly as it had begun. For a moment, she’d felt hooked to a generator, the eye contact jolting her, unnerving her. Even hurting her. That’s when the nausea had begun.
Why had she experienced all that again just now, albeit in a muted way? Before she’d seen him even? Why had she felt any of it at all? This made no sense. Who was he?
“Let’s pick him up,” Penny said, excited.
“Let’s not,” she replied. “I have a boyfriend.”
“No, you have a horny jock who sticks around because he’s desperate to get in your pants even though you keep saying no. Which, by the way, is a guarantee he’s knocking it with someone else every time your back is turned.”
There was something in her tone … Mary Ann pushed the boy from the graveyard out of her mind—best that way—and frowned over at her friend. “Wait. Have you heard something?”
Heavy pause. Another drag. Then a nervous laugh. “No. No, of course not.” Penny waved a dismissive hand through the air. “And anyway, I don’t want to talk about Tucker. I want to talk about the fact that you and this Mystery Guy should totally hook up. You like him, I can tell. Your cheeks are flushed and your hands are shaking.”
“I’m probably coming down with a cold.” Was it bad that she hoped her words were true? When a girl couldn’t get a boy out of her mind, she, well, couldn’t get him out of her mind. Schoolwork was forgotten. Goals were abandoned. The brain became mush. She’d seen it happen, time and time again. She wouldn’t let it happen to her.
That’s one of the reasons she dated Tucker. He was safe. Cute and popular, but safe. He was busy with football and didn’t mind how often she skipped out on him to work or study.
“Don’t be a prude. Give me permission, and I’ll call him over here. I’ll have his digits in five flat, and you guys can go out. I won’t tell Tucker, I swear.”
“No. No, no, no!” She shook her head for emphasis, ponytail slapping her cheeks. “One, I would never cheat on Tucker.”
Penny rolled her eyes. “So break up with him.”
“And two,” she said, ignoring her friend’s remark, “I don’t have time to juggle another boy. Even as a friend. Grades have never been more important. SATs are coming up.”
“You have straight As. And you’ll nail the SATs, guaranteed.”
“I want to keep the As, and the only way I’ll nail the SATs is if I stay the course. You know that stuff doesn’t come easily for me.”
“Fine. But when you die from stress and disappointment, you’ll think back to this moment and wish to God you’d taken me up on my offer.” Penny splayed her arms and peered heavenward. “Who would have thought I’d be the smart one in this relationship?”
Now Mary Ann was the one to roll her eyes. “If you’re the smart one, what does that make me?”
“The dull, pretty one.” Penny grinned, but for once the expression lacked its usual dazzle. “You can’t help it, I suppose. What with the psychobabble your dad is always feeding you. There’s good in everyone, blah, blah, blah. I’m telling you, Mar, some people are as worthless as an empty bottle of beer and Tucker is one … of … them.” The last was said on an excited gust of breath. “Swweet! I didn’t have to do anything and he’s coming over! Yep, you heard me right. Your stalker is coming over here!”
Mary Ann turned before she could stop herself. It was the boy from the graveyard. She barely hid her grimace as another of those jolts swept through her, burning her like acid.
At least the world didn’t seem to implode on itself this time, leaving her with a strange sense of nothingness.
Steadier now, she studied him. His jeans were ripped but he had indeed changed his shirt. This one was clean and free of holes. His face was just as perfect as she remembered, too flawless to be real. He had thick black lashes that perfectly framed his eyes. Perfectly sculpted cheekbones that surrounded a perfectly sloped nose. Perfectly shaped lips, now dipped into a frown.
This close, she realized he was taller than she’d assumed. If they stood next to each other, he would tower over her. His features were tight with determination.
One step, two, he hesitantly approached. When he reached them, he stopped and dropped his backpack at his feet.
Mary Ann tensed and her mouth dried. What would she do if he asked her out? Tucker was her first and only boyfriend. The first and only guy to ask her out, really, so she’d never had to turn someone down before. Not that this boy wanted to ask her out. Please don’t ask me out.
Aren’t you an egotistical one? Most boys want your study notes, not your body. Oh, yeah.
“This day couldn’t get any better,” Penny said, clapping.
He waved shyly. “Hi,” he said. Then he frowned and rubbed at his chest, just as she had done a bit ago. His gaze narrowed, and he glanced all around them.
“Hi,” Mary Ann said, dropping her focus to the iron tabletop. Her tongue suddenly felt huge and glued to the roof of her mouth. Worse, her brain seemed to have taken a vacation and she couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Awkward silence bloomed between them.
Penny released a heavy sigh. “Fine. Allow me. Her name’s Mary Ann Gray, and she’s a junior at Crossroads High School. I’ll give you her phone number if you ask nicely.”
“Penny.” Mary Ann slapped her friend’s shoulder.
Penny ignored her. “What’s your name? And where do you go to school?” she asked the boy. “Wild Horse?” Disgust dripped from her tone.
“I’m Aden. Aden Stone. I just moved here. And I don’t go to public school.” Pause. “Yet. But what’s wrong with Wild Horse?”
His voice was deep and oddly shiver-inducing. She forced herself to focus on his words, though, rather than his tone. He’d said he didn’t go to public school. Did that mean he attended private school? Or that he was homeschooled?