Dust and Roses: Book Two of the Dust Trilogy (17 page)

I glared at him, trying to think of ways I
could kill him. Apparently, he wasn’t going to give me time to think. Before I
knew it, he’d leapt over the desk and wrapped one of his wings tightly around
my body. He pulled me close to him, so close I could feel his hot breath on my
face. “I could kill you right now and there would be nothing you could do to
stop me. It would take me half a second to snap your neck and a few minutes to
devour your dead body. No one would even know what happened to you.”

I couldn’t breathe and I felt like he was
crushing my bones. He squeezed me so tightly, I couldn’t even struggle against
him. Gasping, I swallowed my pain.

His wings constricted again. “I am not my
son. He is compassionate and merciful. Where he got those unfortunate traits
from, I don’t know, but once you cross the point of no return with me there
will be no mercy from me. Don’t think for a moment that you will get special
treatment for being the pretend-daughter of an Angel.”

I tried to speak, but that proved to be
even harder than breathing. I prayed I wouldn’t pass out.

Mr. Mason released me and I dropped to the
ground, holding my throat, trying to suck up as much air as I could.

“Your threats are no longer effective. Now
run along.”

I gathered myself and fled the room before
he had the chance to get his wings on me again. I was done trying to reason
with him. He was either going to keep that tunnel sealed, or I was going to
kill him.

My family was gathered around the kitchen
table when I got home from the lair. I stood in the doorway watching them.
Dinner was over and they were making s’mores over the fondue pot. Everything
about the scene was perfect, like a commercial for graham crackers or
something. My parents and sisters seemed happy and content. Such a contrast to
my life, where everything was confusing and complicated.

Quinn noticed me first as she used her
finger to catch a bit of dripping marshmallow. “Hi, Arden. Want a s’more?
Probably not, huh?”

Of course I didn’t want a s’more, but it
was nice of her to ask.

I stood there frozen. My mind went blank
and I didn’t know what to say or do. My vision turned so blurry that I couldn’t
see my family anymore—just globs of color. It took me a few seconds to realize
it was because of the tears.

Dad moved from his seat and I collapsed
into his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. I had never felt so completely
overwhelmed.

My mom and sisters watched silently for a
moment until Mom finally said, “Girls, it’s such a beautiful night. Let’s take
the s’mores out to the porch.”

Quickly they gathered the paper plates and
s’mores that had already been made and rushed out the back door.

Dad lowered himself back into his chair
and sat me in his lap like I was five again. “What’s going on?”

Where could I even start? I told him
everything. About how Fletcher had been my Gemini all along. How Mr. Mason was
the reason the curse was in effect. How he was going to get everyone killed by
opening that tunnel. “I don’t know how to get through to him. He’s just so
angry about the massacre and the death of his wife, that’s all he can think
about. This is all about him getting his revenge.”

“Honey, there’s something I have to tell
you about Mr. Mason.”

I grabbed a napkin from the table to wipe
my face. “What about him?”

“The massacre—he’s the one responsible for
it.”

My skin tingled. “What? Are you sure?” I
knew my father wouldn’t lie to me, but he had to be wrong.

“Positive. He was back then, just the way
he is now, hateful towards Givers. Once upon a time we wanted to destroy all
the things that lived in the sixth tunnel. The Takers begged us not to and
promised us that they’d keep those beasts under control. We trusted them to do
that. Mason however went back on his promise when he took some of those things
from the sixth tunnel. He used them to come after Givers, thinking he could
control them, but he couldn’t. The beasts killed both Givers and Takers—his own
wife included.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My
heart raced and I couldn’t tell whether it was from surprise or anger. Probably
both. “Seriously?”

“Yes,” Dad replied. “He designed that lair
for Taker children out of guilt, not just the goodness of his heart. He is the
reason those kids are orphaned.”

I didn’t want to believe my father, but I
did. Every word he said. I believed all those deaths were on Mr. Mason.

“Arden, there’s only one thing to do. You
have to get rid of him. I know that Aswang very well. He’s stubborn and there’s
no way of reasoning with him, so don’t bother. We’ve tried before and you see
what happened.”

“Are you saying I have to kill him?” I was
capable of killing, but I didn’t want to if there was another option. Mr. Mason
was Hollis’ father. I had promised him. What would Hollis do to me? He’d
probably turn around and kill me out of retaliation. He had already lost his
mother.

Besides, now that the Wendigo in me seemed
to be fading away, I would have to use my Banshee skills which were not yet
perfected.

“I can’t kill him, Dad. I don’t know how.
But what about the Archs? They can call the curse off if they want. Why do they
want to keep this going?”

Dad rubbed his forehead. “It’s not that
easy, honey. Once the curse has been put into effect, there’s only one way it
can be called off.”

“How?” I asked.

“The Archs have to be given a particular
offering. Once it is presented to them, they must call the curse off, whether
they want to or not.”

That was exactly what I wanted to hear. It
sounded so easy. Why had no one mentioned this before? “Good. What’s the
offering?”

“It must be presented in a box made of
platinum. The box must contain a specific offering from a Giver and a Taker
that represents both life and death—the heart of a Nephilim and the bone dust
of a Death Fairy.”

I swallowed hard. My bones. Bailey had
mentioned my bones before and why the dust from them were so valuable. It was
the reason she’d given me the nickname Dust. It was the reason Dust was okay
with me.

“What’s a Nephilim?”

Dad looked toward the back door as the
sounds of Paige and Quinn arguing interrupted our conversation. Mom shushed
them and Dad looked at me again. “A Nephilim is a half-human and half-angel.
They have two hearts, so they can spare one.”

“Oh. How am I supposed to find—” I stopped
talking and Dad looked away. Rose. Rose was a Nephilim. This was too much of a
coincidence. This had to have something to do with the reason the two of us
were switched. Someone knew Rose and I would eventually be the offering that
could stop the curse.

Dad held me tighter. “Arden, you don’t
need to do this. Clearly, you’re winning. Fate has chosen you over Fletcher.
Both you and Rose are safe.”

I looked my father in the eye. He had to
know there was no way I could ever do what he was suggesting. Not ever. “You
expect me to let Fletcher die? How can you even say that?”

He sighed. “I don’t want Fletcher or any
of those kids to die, but the Gemini Curse is an unfortunate part of our lives
that we can’t do anything about. I’m sorry. It’s inevitable, creatures will
die. My main concern is you and Rose.”

Dad was wrong. There was a way to stop the
curse and he had just given it to me. The hard part was going to be getting
Rose on board. I doubted that she would even speak to me again.

I had to get to Fletcher’s for two reasons.
One, I had to let him know I’d possibly found a way to break the curse, and
two, I needed to get Rose’s number. I couldn’t ask Hollis for information about
Rose. I didn’t want word to reach Mr. Mason. He would try to stop me or open
the tunnel even earlier than he had planned.

I knocked on the Whitelock’s front door.
Although both cars were in the driveway, no one answered. I called Fletcher.

“Hello.” His voice sounded groggy.

“Hey, Fletch. I’m outside. Can I come in?”

“Sure. Hold on.” A moment later Fletcher
opened the door for me. He wore a white t-shirt and boxer shorts and looked
worse than I had ever seen him. His usually shaggy hair seemed to be matted on
his head. His skin was deathly white and purple pools had formed under his
eyes. He looked so tired and I felt horrible for making him get up. Fletcher
smelled like some sort of wild herbs. I assumed it was some remedy his mother
had concocted. “Come on up,” he told me and we headed up to his bedroom.

“Where are your parents?” I asked as we settled
onto Fletcher’s bed.

“In their bedroom.”

“Well, I have really, really good news,
Fletch.”

He closed his eyes and snuggled underneath
his covers, shivering. “What?”

“I know how to break the curse. I know how
to do it and I’m going to fix all of this.”

His eyes popped open. “What do you mean
you know how to break the curse? How?”

I wasn’t sure I should tell him the truth
because he would try to stop me. “I know what I have to do but I need you to
give me Rose’s number.”

Fletcher raised an eyebrow at me. “Why do
you need her number?”

“I’m not going to hurt her, Fletcher. I
need her help with something.”

He yawned and grabbed his phone off the
nightstand. “I’ll text it to you.”

I placed my hand on his cheek which was so
cold, deathly cold—the way a corpse would feel. I hated seeing him like this.
“Fletcher, hang in there. I promise you, you’re going to get better very soon.”

He gave me a small smile. “Don’t worry
about me, Arden. No matter what happens, everything is going to be okay.”

I gave him a small peck on his cheek.
“You’re right. Everything is going to be okay.”

I took the stairs to the first floor. The
Whitelock’s were no longer in their bedroom. The two of them stood at the front
door with their arms down at their sides.

I paused at the bottom of the stairs. “Oh,
hi, Mr. and Mrs. Whitelock.”

Mr. Whitelock stayed quiet as usual. He
was tall with broad shoulders and bright white hair.  Mrs. Whitelock
cocked her head to one side and smiled at me. “Hello, Arden. I must say your
timing couldn’t have been more perfect.”

“What do you mean?” Something was off.
Very off.

The Whitelocks looked at each other. It
was only then that I noticed the coffee table and my heart stuck in my throat. The
table was covered with knives of various sizes, a meat cleaver, and several
hammers.

I took a step back. I had no idea what was
going on, but it wasn’t good. Whatever was going down, my ass would be out the
back door in five seconds flat.

Mrs. Whitelock stepped toward me. “Dear,
we didn’t want things to come to this, but no one does. There’s really no other
way to put it. Parents will do anything for their children. So you see, we
can’t just sit around watching him waste away.”

I spun and made a move for the backdoor
which was through the kitchen, but Mrs. Whitelock’s china cabinet had been
pushed in front of it. From where I stood, the only way out was the front door
and they had that covered.

“Fletcher!” Mr. Whitelock bellowed.

The door to Fletcher’s room opened. I came
back into the living room as he hobbled down the stairs. His gaze fell to the
array of weapons on the coffee table and then to his parents. “What’s going
on?”

Mr. Whitelock stepped forward, rubbing his
hands on the sides of his jeans. “Son, we know you don’t want to do this, but
you must. I know Arden is your friend, but the only way for you to live and get
your strength back, is for you to—”

“Are you crazy?” Fletcher jumped to the bottom
of the staircase. “I’m not going to kill Arden. You know I won’t, so why are
you even doing this?”

“Fletcher,” his mother said with a tone of
warning. “She’s not leaving here until you’ve done what you need to do, so you
might as well get to it. I’ll tell you what to do to make it as quick and
painless as possible.” She looked at me sympathetically. “I’m sorry, Arden.”

I held my hands up. “Wait. I know how to
break the curse. Nobody has to die. Nobody has to kill anyone. Fletcher will be
fine. I just need a couple of days, tops.”

Mrs. Whitelock raised an eyebrow. “We
don’t even know if he has a couple of days.”

Fletcher coughed from beside me and leaned
over a small sitting table in the living room as if he were about to collapse.
He had already been on his feet for too long. I rubbed his back. I had to stop
this. I couldn’t let him get worse.

I turned to his parents. “I promise you.
Fletcher will be okay, but you need to let me out of here so I can do what I
have to do. Nobody else will have to die.”

Mr. Whitelock ignored me. “Fletch, I’ll
hold her down while you do it. It’ll be quick. We have to do this now, son.”

Fletcher watched his parents with disgust.
“I’d slice my own wrist before I sliced hers. You might as well just let her
go.”

“For Christ’s sake.” Mrs. Whitelock came
storming toward me. Fletcher made a move in my direction, but he was slow and
feeble. Mrs. Whitelock tackled me and the two of us slammed into the wood
floor. My head cracked against the wood as Mrs. Whitelock pinned my arms down
and her knees sank into my midsection. Pain throbbed through my head.

I remembered what happened the last time
someone had pinned me to the ground. I had clawed them to death. Something
stirred within me and I prayed my Wendigo side wasn’t about to come through for
the sake of everyone in the room.

Fletcher coughed again. “Mother, get off
her . . . please.”

Mrs. Whitelock blocked my view of her
husband but a clunking sound coming from somewhere in the room told me that he
was gathering up weapons. He thrust a knife into Fletcher’s hand. Fletcher
shook his head, letting the knife tumble to the ground. Didn’t these people
understand that Fletcher would never kill me or anyone?

I narrowed my eyes at Mrs. Whitelock and
thought about the knife. Mr. Whitelock shook Fletcher, screaming at him, as if
doing that would turn him into a murderer. The insanity had to stop.

The knife rose above Mrs. Whitelock’s
head, wobbling in midair. Fletcher and his father froze. “Sonya,” Mr. Whitelock
said breathlessly. Mrs. Whitelock looked at her husband and then followed his
gaze. Turning her head, she spotted the knife. She looked down on me, wide-eyed
and let go of my arms.

I wasn’t stopping there. I stared at the
weapons on the table. Warmth pulsed through me and I focused all my
concentration on them. The weapons rose in unison, half pointing at Mrs.
Whitelock, the other half pointing at her husband.

I looked her dead in the eye so she would
know I was no longer afraid. I was angry. If it were up to these people, I’d be
dead. “Mrs. Whitelock, Fletcher isn’t going to kill me and you know it, so stop
this. If anyone dies in this house tonight, it’s going to be you and your
husband.”

“Arden, don’t,” Fletcher begged.

I kept going. “Every weapon you have for
me, I can turn on you with just a thought. I can pin you to the wall with those
knives, bash your brains out with that hammer—”

“Arden!” Fletcher barked.

By that time Mrs. Whitelock had climbed
off me, her eyes locked on the floating weapons.

I rose to my feet. “I’m going to leave
now. As I said before, I’m going to take care of this. I understand you’re only
trying to help Fletcher, but I’m not dying tonight.”

Fletcher nodded and I headed for the door.
The weapons clattered to the floor before I slammed the door behind me.

The next day I skipped school to take the
train to meet Rose. When I spoke to her, she sounded skeptical, but that was
understandable considering what had gone down the first time we’d met. I told
her that the two of us could break the curse but we needed to meet in person.
Also, I wanted to talk to her about something else.

Luckily, she agreed to meet me at the
smoothie place when she got out of school. She ordered a watermelon-mango
smoothie. I had nothing because there wasn’t a smoothie flavor that wasn’t
sweet.

“Have something,” Rose insisted. “My
treat.”

She was being way too nice to me
considering I had tried to kill her just the other day. “That’s okay,” I said.

Once she got her smoothie she took a big
sip. “So what did you want to talk to me about? You said it was important.”

Neither of the things I had to speak to
her about were easy, so I decided to have the better conversation first. “I
have to tell you something. Something about you and me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What’s up?”

“The parents you grew up with, they’re not
your real parents. They’re mine. And my parents are your real parents. We were
switched at birth.”

Rose stared at me for a long time. I
waited for her to say I was crazy and that she didn’t believe me but instead
she said, “I knew you looked like her. Like exactly. I thought it was just a
coincidence.”

My cheeks warmed. “You look just like Mom
and my sisters.”

The rosiness came back to her cheeks. “I
have sisters?”

I gulped. It was hard to think of my
sisters as her sisters, but they really were. “Yeah, two. Paige is thirteen and
Quinn is ten, almost eleven.”

“Wow.”

“What about you? Do you have any brothers
and sisters?”

Rose shook her head. “No. Only child.”

That was slightly disappointing. Between
Paige and Quinn, I had enough of siblings, but it would have been nice to have
a brother.

We sat in silence for a long time,
thinking. I pulled my phone from my dress pocket. “I have lots of pictures.” I
handed her my phone so she could flip through the pictures herself and she
handed me hers.

She didn’t have to tell me anything. I
knew my mother immediately. Pale and slender, with coal-black eyes and matching
hair. Her face was a little fuller than mine, but I was almost the spitting
image of my mother. My father had light brown hair and warm coffee-colored
eyes. He looked sweet and gentle. His smile made me smile. It was hard to
believe there had been a Wendigo living inside him.

“Tell me about them,” I said. It wasn’t
fair. They were dead and I hadn’t even had the chance to meet them.

Rose pushed her hair behind her ears. “My
mom, well your mom, our mom, you know what I mean, she was a homemaker. She was
a great cook and she handmade almost everything—a total do-it-yourselfer. She
loved to sew.”

That struck a chord in me. My mother had
loved to sew. Maybe that was where I had gotten it from. I wondered if she
would have been proud of the things I made.

“Was she nice? Did you guys get along?”

Rose nodded. “Oh, yes, we were besties. I
told her everything and we did everything together. She was very proud of me.”

Something tugged at my heart. She’d had
the kind of relationship with my birth-mother that I wanted to have with hers.
Maybe my real mother was glad we had been switched.

I cleared my throat. “And your dad?”

“He was a butcher. Dad was great but he
was quiet and kept to himself. It was kind of hard to know what was going on
with him, but he was a great dad. He would have done anything for us.”

She wiped at a tear. I moved to the other side
of the table and wrapped my arm around her. The only parents Rose had known
were dead. I still had mine, so I had no idea what that felt like. On the other
hand, she still had the opportunity to meet her real parents while I didn’t.

“I’m sorry about your parents. You can
still meet your birth parents, though. They’re wonderful and they’ve been
wanting to meet you, of course. You’ll love them. Paige and Quinn, too.”

Rose shrugged. “I need some time to
process this, but yeah, I’d like to meet them one day.” She sipped some more of
her smoothie and checked the time on her cell phone. “What was the other thing
you needed to talk to me about?”

“Well, this other thing is a lot more
serious, like, life and death serious.”

Worry flashed in her eyes. They weren’t as
blue as the girls in my family. Her eyes were more of a gray color. “What are
you talking about?”

I folded my hands in front of me to keep
them from shaking. “I know how to stop the Gemini Curse so nobody has to die.
So nobody else has to get sick and waste away.”