Indelible (25 page)

“Oh come now, Mr. Springsteed. Do you really think you can host another spirit in your body for so many months and not have far-reaching consequences?” The voice paused again and Brent’s face paled. “You have no need to worry. We have the resources to help you.”

“What sort of consequences?” I couldn’t help but ask. Brent shushed me.

“Tell me, have they been able to determine what’s wrong with you?”

“And I suppose you know,” I snapped.

“As a matter of fact we do.” He paused. “And we can help. Without our help, Mr. Springsteed, you won’t make it to graduation.”

“Really?” I asked. My arm went around Brent’s elbow. I held on against the sudden spinning in the room.

“We aren’t lying.”

“And you’ll give us this information?” I asked slowly.

“Well,” the baritone voice drew out the word. He twisted his ring again. “I wouldn’t say ‘give’ so much as ‘exchange.’”

“Exchange for what?” Brent asked.

“In exchange, you provide us with your skills, when needed. Wouldn’t you say that’s fair?”

“Doing what?” I asked.

“Oh, this and that.”

If that didn’t scream a warning, nothing ever had. “You’re saying you know what’s wrong, that it’s life-threatening, but you won’t tell us what’s wrong?”

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. We are more than willing to give that information. Are you willing to pay for it?”

Was I?

My first instinct was to say yes. But several things made me hold my tongue. The first was I didn’t trust them. Aside from listing symptoms, they hadn’t provided us with any proof they actually knew what was going on in Brent’s body. They were just playing on our fears. Second, they hadn’t been upfront about what exactly they wanted us to do. There had been no information about what we were agreeing to, what they were expecting from us. And third . . . I looked to DJ. His green eyes were so full of emotion they almost knocked me off my feet. DJ had made his own deal with them, and he had told me to run. He had said they would dangle a carrot before me, one I wouldn’t be able to resist. There was no way I would consider their offer over a scholarship for me, or Stanford for Cherie. But Brent’s life? I swallowed hard, the tears in my eyes making my throat thick. DJ had grabbed his carrot, and didn’t want me to make the same mistake.

DJ shook his head and mouthed the word, “No.”

I started to say no aloud but . . .

But what if they were telling the truth? What if Brent’s condition was so serious that he would be dead in a few months? What if they had information that could save Brent? My mind began spinning out possible scenarios. A headache formed between my eyes. I brought my fingers to my head and rubbed the sore spot.

A tug of war strong enough to rip me in half battled inside me. Yes or no, yes or no.

“Yes.” The sound of Brent voice pulled me from my struggle. I spun toward Brent. Had he just agreed?

Brent gave me a grim smile and slight nod. He wanted me to say yes.

My eyes darted between DJ and Brent. This was an important choice. One of life and death. But the question was not “Would I help Brent?” The answer to that would unequivocally be yes. The real questions were “Is it true, or are they scaring me into a trap? And if it is true, do I trust them enough to keep their end of the agreement?”

I didn’t know much about the men in room, except that they had stalked us, followed us, stolen from me, and destroyed my room. And that they claimed they could save Brent’s life, but wouldn’t help until we became indentured to them. What in that led me to trust them in the slightest? Nothing. What it really boiled down to was, “Did I trust the Clutch?” and the answer to that was . . .

“No.” Once I said the words, a feeling of peace resonated though me, until Brent dropped my hand and stepped away from me. His strength, his warmth, the safety he brought, it all left me when he moved. I felt lost without it.

My eyes met his, which were filled with hurt. I could tell he was shocked by my answer. He’d expected me to say yes. He looked like he thought I’d betrayed him.

“Why?” He asked in a voice that scratched at my heart.

Tears formed in my eyes and flowed down my cheeks. “I love you, Brent, but we can’t trust them.”

“Then you should go.” The cold look in his eyes and the hostility in his voice had me stepping back. He had never used that tone with me before. His voice was so harsh it felt as though it sliced through my heart, leaving behind a tangled mess of blood and gore where it once beat.

His lips pursed together. “Can she go?”

“Interesting.” The baritone man chuckled. “Of course she can go. You were both able to leave at any time.”

“Go. Home. Yara.”

I felt like I had been slapped. “You don’t really trust them do you?”

Brent wouldn’t look at me.

“It’s not too late, Brent. You can come with me.” I sounded hysterical. I stepped toward him and grabbed his arm, pleading with him.

He shook me off. “Go. I don’t want you here.”

I was looking at a stranger, one who wanted me gone. I felt numb as I reconnected, too hurt to cry anymore. Was Brent making a mistake? Was I? Should I have agreed to work with them to help? Why had he stayed? These and a dozen other questions tumbled through my mind and I didn’t have any answers.

v

When I saw him sitting alone in the cafeteria at breakfast the next morning my heart was galloping in my chest like a wild mustang. Did I dare approach him? Did he want me to? Did I want to?

I debated for a second, before heading toward him. I didn’t bother getting food. I just sat across from him. There was a hunch in his shoulders and the corners of his mouth sagged down. He stared out the windows toward Corona, lost in his own thoughts.

I reached across the table about to take his hand in mine then thought back to last night and brought it back.

“Brent?”

He jumped and turned toward me. His brown eyes flashed a thousand thoughts but they all raced by too fast for me to understand. Finally he frowned at me.

“What do you want?”

That was a good question. I wasn’t sure myself. “I want to understand why you made the choice you did last night.”

He guffawed. “I’m wondering the same about you. I thought you loved me.”

My mouth hung open. “I do—”

“No, you don’t. If you did, then you would have said yes. If the tables were turned, I wouldn’t have had to think about it. I would have done anything for you.”

I resisted the urge to slug him. “If the situation had been reversed I wouldn’t have expected you to say yes! I would have expected you to think the decision through. We don’t even know if they’re telling the truth. Your doctors haven’t even given you your results. You—”

“I lied,” he broke in. “I lied when I said I couldn’t feel my illness. I feel it almost all the time. It’s like a cancer eating away at me. I can hear and feel it devouring me piece by piece.”

“What?” My anger funneled out of me. “Since when?”

“Since last year.” He dragged his fork through his normal gross breakfast. “Almost immediately after I got my body back. It started with small things. Like aches and pains.”

I crossed my ankles and folded my arms on the table. “You should have gone to the doctor earlier then.”

“I’ve been going to the doctor since this summer, Yara,” he interrupted. I stared at him, goggle eyed. He had never mentioned that. “I knew something was off, and given the fact that I had hosted another soul in my body for so many months I figured it would be in my best interest to get some medical opinions. But it wasn’t like I could tell them what really happened.”

He dropped his fork and it clattered against his plate. “I just told them I felt off and they did a basic check-up on me. Blood work and all that. They didn’t find anything out of the ordinary. That’s the main reason I’ve been downplaying everything for the last few months. But then I had the seizure.”

“Which is why you took their deal,” I finished. Things were beginning to make sense. No wonder he had been so quick to believe the Clutch.

He laid his napkin on top of his plate. “Yeah.”

“So what’s going on?” I asked. He tensed. “Not with the Clutch, with the doctors. Have they figured out what happened?”

He sighed. “They don’t know. I have all of these horrible things happening but they can’t find the cause, so they’re just treating the symptoms. That’s all they know how to do. They have no idea how to fix it because they have no idea what’s really wrong.”

He stopped and took a deep breath. “This is more of a spiritual problem. Or metaphysical. Or whatever. Anyway, the doctors can’t fix it. They’ve done all the blood tests, but aside from the secondary protein in my blood, all was normal.”

“Secondary protein?”

Brent took a drink of his orange juice. “When I was a kid, we spent a summer in Europe. I was in a bad car accident with my nanny. They had to give me blood transfusions, and I had a bad reaction to one. There was some protein that my body tried to reject. I almost died.”

“Did they give you the wrong type?”

“No, you know how there are A and B blood proteins with Rh positive or negative?”

I nodded.

“Well there are other proteins in your blood, but most of the time they don’t cause a problem. With my transfusion they did. The doctors had to do some experimental gene therapy to keep me alive. It worked—obviously—” He picked up his fork and tapped it against his tray. “My body stopped creating anti-bodies against that blood protein. A couple years ago, when I was getting a physical to come to school here, they did a follow-up blood test and found that my body had actually started producing that protein.”

“Is that what’s wrong with you?” I asked. A seed of hope began to sprout in my chest. If they knew what was wrong, we could find out how to fix it.

Brent pushed his plate aside. “No, my blood work hasn’t changed since the physical I did last year.”

“Okay, so did the doctors tell you anything?”

“The doctor told me that one more seizure like the one I had could cause permanent damage.”

“He did?” It felt like my insides went through a paper shredder

“They said I can’t drive, and I can’t be on the swim team. The meds make me feel slow and even my powers seem weaker.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” I said, my voice sounding more accusing than I had meant it to. “You told me right before Christmas the doctor had given you a clean bill of health.”

“I lied. I never went to the doctor because I’d already been going. And I didn’t want your grandma to examine me. I didn’t want you to worry.” Brent leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table.

I picked at a piece of lint of my skirt. “You didn’t want me to worry,” I repeated. “That plan sucked. Brent, I’m worried now. And we’ve lost all that time—” I tried to stop my bottom lip from quivering and swallow down the panic that was rising up my throat like vomit. “We’ll fix it Brent. Don’t give up.”

“I haven’t,” he said. “That’s why I said yes to the Clutch.”

A cluster of clouds glided in front of the sun, darkening the cafeteria.

“Tell me,” I said in a small cracked voice. “About last night.”

He shook his head. “I can’t talk about it.”

“Do you know who’s in the Clutch? Who the members are? According to tradition, they would have to be alumni right?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“How did they know about us? How did they learn about everything we can do?”

His lips pressed together and he shook his head again. Finally he sighed and looked me right in the eye. “It was my dad. I told him everything over the summer. Neal had asked me to before he walked into the light and I couldn’t refuse his last request. Dad took that information and used it to buy his way into the Clutch. He’s a member now.”

My whole body felt cold as I listened. Brent’s dad had abused Brent’s trust, betraying us to get in good with the Clutch.

“Your dad knew that they would only help you if you joined? That they would let you die otherwise, and he still joined?” I hadn’t liked his dad before but now I almost hated him. “Your dad is a real piece of work.”

Brent gave me level stare. “He’s nothing compared to my girlfriend.” He looked away. “She turned her back on me when I needed her most.”

I recoiled from that emotional blindside. “That isn’t what happened. The question wasn’t ‘Do I help Brent?’ The que—”

He slammed his hand down on the table. “That sure seemed like the question to me. And you showed me exactly how much you care.” With that he gathered his tray and left me alone at the table.

Chapter Thirteen

A couple of days later, Lesley called me into her office.

“Yara, can you run these papers over to Mr. Crosby’s office in the administration building. Once he’s signed them, I need you to bring them back right away.”

“No problem.”

Lesley yawned and popped an antacid into her mouth. Her normally sleek hair was frizzed.

“How are you doing?”

“I’ve been better. This remodel is going to be the death of me.” She yawned again. “It wasn’t part of my job description when I applied. But the construction crew is doing an amazing job, here and at the old Alumni House. They were able to get the plans drawn up and approved in very short time and they’ve been working long hours to get the job done.”

“Sorry.”

She took another antacid. “Me too. I wish they had stuck to the original plan of doing the remodels next year. One at a time. I cannot wait for all of the construction to be done! Although, I’ve seen some of the construction workers poring over blueprints for other buildings, too.” She shuddered. “I may have to quit if they make me a liaison for those. Thanks for getting this signed for me.”

I took the papers and gave her an encouraging grin.

I made my way across campus and tried to enjoy the warm day. The last two weeks had been wet and rainy, and had fit my mood perfectly. Brent and I had never really argued before and now we’d had a colossal fight. He’d been avoiding me. Our relationship at the moment was hard to define; it was in a holding pattern of sorts. We hadn’t broken up, but it didn’t feel like we were together anymore either. I could have asked him, but I was afraid to. I wasn’t ready for it to end and I didn’t know what I’d do if he felt differently. Since he’d made his big decision, there had been a lot of time freezes. Cherie, Steve and I had been loading up on the time slip pills and we were all really ahead on our homework.