Darkest Day (32 page)

“They think you’ve chosen human, which was why you were so lenient with Madeline.”

Mac said nothing for a moment.

Had she chosen human, after all?
She told me she hadn’t. Wouldn’t. She’d promised she’d do the ‘responsible thing’ or, as my dad always termed, ‘make the right choice’. Her little rant moments before didn’t mean anything.

After all that, could she possibly have chosen me?

Mac

“Darling,” Alina said from the doorway of my bedroom. “You’ve received a package.”

I rose from my bed and walked to her. She handed it to me with a slight incline to her head as if to say, ‘What’s this you have?’ without using the words. “Thanks,” I said.

She nodded and disappeared.

With a light shove, the door closed and I walked back, depressing the mattress as I sat. Winn had gone home to shower and say ‘hi’ to his dad. That gave me plenty of time to open my letter.

Scooting back, I ended up cross-legged in the middle of the bed, the thick, white envelope in my hand. Flipping it over, I read the front sticker.

Stanford University, College of Humanities and Social Sciences, Art and Art History

I slid my finger under the flap, tearing into the gummy seal. Once opened, I slid out the packet of information.

Dear Ms. Thorne,

It is with great pleasure that we accept your application for enrollment in the Art History program for the fall semester at Stanford. Enclosed …

I held the envelope to my chest and smiled.

They accepted me. My art. Art I hadn’t touched in months, thanks to everything else that had happened, but art that I’d created at a time when I thought nothing more about life than sitting with a sketchpad beneath my favorite oak tree in Primrose cemetery and had submitted at Caroline’s insistance.

I brushed aside the top letter and flipped through the material for a moment.

Returning to it, I continued to read.

Enclosed is information pertaining to life on campus, relocation, course registration …

It went on and on.

Your submission packet with the colored pencil sketch of the young boy on the couch has been entered into our annual freshman art show. We do hope you will be able to attend as part of our welcome and orientation, August 1-5.

At the bottom, a hand-written note had been attached.

Ms. Thorne—

Your sketch entitled ‘The Boy’ was exceptional.

Welcome to the program.

—Dean Seller

I’d gotten in, just like Caroline said I would, not that I could ever go, but if Winn knew, he’d be proud, and that made me smile.

Winn

Night had fallen, and Mac and I sat beneath her big oak, our heads cradled in the mottled roots. She’d pulled out her sketchpad—one I hadn’t seen in months.

Her fingers worked at a drawing she’d had inside, pulling pencils from her hair and dropping them on the ground. Each time she did, I picked it up.

Two more nights remained for us.

Every time I thought about it, my heart raced.

If I didn’t think about it, it seemed I didn’t care. At least to me.

Dad and Josie hovered anytime I went home. Alina and Lucas hovered any time Mac and I stayed there.

I wanted to yell at them all to leave us alone—to give us the last thirty-six hours we’d have together.

Suze, at least, masked his check-ins by telling us he needed input on clothes or food for his dates with Gwen, who’d stayed in her more feminine form—the one from the tribunal.

As the night carried on, warm and humid for early summer in North Carolina, the end loomed.

Mac wiped at the corner of her sketch, dropping an eraser and two pencils in the process.

I picked them up, too, and stared at the image she’d created. “I thought you were sketching the pond.”

“I am. Sorta.”

“But those are palm trees, and we don’t have those here.”

“It’s called editorial creativity.” She shaded in the corner, working her way down and changing colors yet again.

“Okay. It’s … pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey … what’d you do with that sketch you did of me? Man, that was like almost a year ago.”

She snorted. “It’s gone. Didn’t figure you’d want anyone around here to see it.”

I gave her a small laugh back. “It was good, but yeah. Kinda weird being the subject.”

“See? I was only thinking of you.” She nudged me with her shoulder.

Mac

Despite Winn’s suggestion that we run off and join the circus—which he almost seemed serious about—I wanted to spend part of our last day with a few friends and the end with him.

We had breakfast with my dad—my real one—where I apologized for the last time we’d been together. He’d smiled and said, ‘not to worry, stress will do that’, and we’d chatted like normal people for a while.

Between then and lunch, Alina made me go shopping for a few clothes saying she couldn’t send me to my adult years without a new wardrobe. Why I had to go, I didn’t know. She’d bought almost all of my stuff without me before.

“How many stores are we going to?” I asked.

“Oh … just one or two.” She led. I followed. We passed The Gap, Abercrombie & Fitch, Macy’s, Saks, tons of places we would have normally gone—or she would have and returned with bags for me.

“You know, if we needed to go to the other end of the mall, we could have parked by it instead of walking for a mile,” I said.

Alina chuckled but continued on. “Darling, walking will do you good since you’ll be doing so much of it.”

“What do you mean? Council members don’t get cars?”

She turned toward me, still moving forward. With a wink, she stopped.

I spun in place. On one side of the mall, a Build a Bear and cell phone store had people milling about. On the other, lingerie and college apparel. “You’re buying me underwear?”

Alina shook her head and walked straight to the loud, scary colors of the apparel store. Once again, I followed.

She navigated her way through the racks, circling, grabbing, returning, pulling off hangers and moving on. I caught up with her as she held up a red, hooded sweatshirt with a zipper front and the big letters of Stanford University across the front in her right hand and a deep blue with Duke University emblazoned on the other.

“What are these?”
Why did I even ask?

“I think you’ll need a set, don’t you? And Winn, too?” She manipulated the items in her hand and held up a grey one with a red lining and a blue with white lining.

“Winn needs one, yes, but why me?” Nerves shook my hand. I clenched my fist to stop it showing.

Alina pressed closer to me. “Darling … a long,
long
time ago, I said that you wear your heart on your sleeve. And you do. I don’t know exactly what you’re planning, but if this is the last I see of you, if you choose to become human, I want to know that I’d helped you prepare at least once more.” Her shoulder fell a little. “I’ll miss this, you know. You. Me. Even Lucas. You’ve been the daughter I never had.”

“You still can, though, right? Like meet a guy, do the deed, et cetera?”

Alina’s twinkle of laughter made me smile. “Oh, darling, I have plenty of time, yes. But I have thoroughly enjoyed my role as mother to you.” She held out the shirts, dropping them all into a basket. “You’ll let me one last time?”

“Of course.”

Winn

Caroline and Pete met Mac and me for burgers at four. They’d gone to Disney World for a week right after graduation, and on their return, Caroline’s parents had whisked her away for another week in Europe. Pete had opted for summer classes at Duke where he’d already enrolled for the fall. I could have done the same, but I wanted my summer to be with Mac.

“So …” Caroline munched on a French fry. “I’m done with my swearing hiatus.”

Mac nearly spit out her shake. “You’re going to become a sailor and use expletives in every sentence?”

Caroline chuckled. “No. I’m just done being on it. I’m cured!” Her hands flew up and landed on the table. “Took me four years, but I finally managed it.”

“Better you than me,” Mac said.

I bumped Mac with my arm. “She’s had an effect on you.”

“So, does this mean I can quit filling my jar?” Mac asked.

Caroline pointed a fry at Mac. “You know, I have almost three hundred dollars because of you.” She and Pete broke into laughter. “You two are so awesome together,” Caroline said. “I just wish you were going to the same college. You know long distance stuff is really hard on a relationship.”

She had no idea. The idea behind me going across the country had come from my dad almost a year before, when he’d taken me out on an impromptu trip. Then, of course, I’d hoped I could find a way around the Mac-problem and convince her to join me, but I understood her position—had become even a little proud that she’d accepted the responsibility she’d been born to take.

Mac said nothing about our separation.

“It’ll be hard, but we have email and phones,” I said.

“Yeah, but Mac here doesn’t believe in technology,” Caroline said.

Mac slurped her chocolate shake. “I didn’t believe in it because I didn’t need it.” She reached into her pocket and withdrew her phone. “Throw your details in there.”

“Just give me your number, and I’ll call you.” Caroline held her phone out, her thumb hovering over the keys.

Mac chuckled but complied. For another hour, the four of us sat, talking, pondering about all the years’ past, and enjoying a summer afternoon together.

“So, let’s do this,” Caroline started. “Next Christmas, when we all come back, we make sure to say ‘hi’, and when we all turn twenty-one, we all get drunk together. And when we’re thirty, and you guys have been married for ten years, we all compare notes, and Pete and I can hook up one more time.”

“Hey,” he said. “Who says we won’t be married for ten years by then?”

Caroline tilted back with laughter.

Pete’s face didn’t reflect the mirth she’d exhibited.

When she returned, she said, “Oh, you were serious.”

“I have an IQ of a hundred and thirty-five. I’m always serious.”

“Well,” she said and went back to her drink.

At least they had options. For Mac and me, it would all end in less than six hours.

The Council meeting had been called for midnight.

Mac

Before I spent my last moments with Winn, I needed to talk to Lucas. Suze promised to look after Winn at my insistence, since once I’d taken my role on the Council, he’d no longer be my familiar. Council members didn’t need protection that way.

As I stood in the dark of my own lawn, waiting for Winn to arrive after a brief return home, Lucas appeared from the shadows.

“You guys do that a lot, you know,” I said.

“Do … what, Mackenzie?” He glided toward me, as regal as Alina but made for the night.

“Show up silently and unexpectedly and creepily.” I shivered on purpose to prove my point.

“And you … fear me, my dear?”

“No.” I’d never feared him and didn’t intend to start then.

“What say you, then, darling?”

“I need to make sure that you never, ever, ever, ever agree to bite Winn if he asks.”

Lucas chuckled. “Why ever would I do that?”

“Because you’re a vampire, Lucas. And I need you to make sure Felix won’t either. And none of your goon squad.”

Lucas gave me a little bow. “You have my word, Mackenzie.”

I stood toe to toe with Lucas, the scent of blood mixing with his own fragrance. “I mean it, Lucas. No matter what you do. If he begs and pleads, none of you will bite him. Promise me.”

His gaze stayed stuck to mine, serious eyes staring back at me. With a nod, he said, “You have my word. None will harm young Master Winford.”

On an exhale, I said, “Thank you. And, Lucas?”

“Yes, my dear?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“You know … for everything.”

He took my hand and kissed the top of it. “The last eighteen years have been my pleasure. I can only hope to see you again someday.”

Winn’s Jeep pulled into my driveway.

“And now, I shall take my leave, darling.” He disappeared into the shadows again.

“Was that your dad?” Winn asked as he stepped up onto the porch. “Your surrogate dad, I mean. Lucas?”

“Yeah. Just saying good luck.”

“’Kay. You ready to go?”

“Yup.”

We traipsed down the stairs and to his car, preparing for our last night together as Mac and Winn. Winn and Mac. Two people on opposing sides of the world, yet living in the same realm.

“So, where are you taking me?” I asked.

“You’ll see.” Winn drove past the town center, past the library I’d actually kinda, sorta, started to like. He continued on beyond our high school and out into the countryside. When he turned onto the freeway, I had an idea of where he headed.

“Turner Pointe?” I asked.

He smiled.

The Jeep wound its way around the circular roads, all the way up to the top, where the parking lot held a dozen or so cars, with three ahead of us, and as I looked back, another four following.

“It’s busy tonight. Why?”

Winn grinned.

“You’re playing all coy, dude. Whassup?”

He parked in the first spot I saw and told me to get out. From the back of the Jeep, he pulled out a blanket and a picnic basket.

“Midnight dinner on the top of the mountain. You bring enough for the crowd?”

People removed folding lawn chairs and blankets from their cars.

“Come on.” Winn motioned me forward with a lean of his head.

After walking through trees and brush, down a steep incline and back up another in the opposite direction, we ended up underneath a rock jutting out on the side of the mountain.

I would have said ‘we’re not supposed to be here’ when we passed the ‘No Trespassing’ sign, but I figured Winn had an ‘in’ because he’d never break a rule.

The spot he brought me to had two other couples, one locked in an embrace, the other chatting with their food and blanket.