Mortal Danger (The Immortal Game) (31 page)

“I think you’d better tell me exactly what you mean.”

He stepped into my space and tangled his hands in my hair, tipping my face up. I should’ve insisted on an answer, but when he looked at me like
that
it was impossible for me to think. “
You’re
mine. How’s that?”

“It’s good,” I whispered.

“I’ll fight for you. I’ll draw all the lines around you. I’ve”—he brushed his lips teasingly, delicately, across mine—“never felt this way before.”

When I went up on tiptoe to kiss him back, kiss him more, he spun me and pressed me against the window. I twined my arms around his neck and held on; the longing was honey sweet and ferocious like a storm. He tasted me and I ran my hands over his shoulders and down his back, digging in with my fingers, because this feeling just couldn’t be real. Kian made a soft sound against my mouth, a growl or a whimper, and I shivered against him.

“I should take you home,” he whispered. “Or I won’t at all. I want you to stay.”

“I can’t. Not yet.”

“I know. Your life is complicated enough.”

Shaky nod, as I reached for him. He claimed my hand and whooshed us to the alley we’d used to depart for the SSP. “I’ll never get used to that.”

“And I’ll never get enough of you.” Kian devoured another kiss and another, until my knees went weak. Until meeting him, I hadn’t known longing for another person could come as a physical ache.

“Wow.” I swallowed hard and then hurried away before I begged him to take me back to his apartment.

It was crazy that I had to weigh everything now in terms of cause and effect. A night with Kian would be amazing, but I had enough stress in my life. When we slept together, I wanted the timing to be right. After waiting this long, sex shouldn’t be one of my regrets.

NORMAL IS ANOTHER COUNTRY

Blackbriar might be under a cloud, but for the rest of my imprisonment, it didn’t storm. The silence made me uneasy, however, and things were lonely at school, as Davina and Jen were MIA. I hoped that meant they’d persuaded their parents to send them elsewhere, at least for a while. I checked my messages, but there was nothing in my in-box.

Vi was still around, at least. Tuesday night, we talked on Skype. “How are the dreams?” I asked.

“After I sent off my college applications, they totally stopped. Must’ve been stress.”

I suspected it had more to do with burning my second favor, but relief cascaded through me so hard, I got a headrush. “I need to send my stuff in, deadlines are approaching.”

“I figured you’d be done already.”

“No, I’m still putting the package together. I can’t get my essay right.” Truth was, I hadn’t even tried to write one.

“Don’t let it paralyze you. Just pick a theme and run with it.”

“Thanks. I’ll see if I can get everything out next week.”

We chatted a little longer, then I disconnected to get ready for bed. When I went to the bathroom, I left my bedroom door cracked, but when I came back, it was closed. My heart skittered in my chest like it was full of mice. For a few seconds, I stood in the hall, staring.

“Something wrong?”

I spun to find my mother standing behind me. “No, I was just thinking.”

“About how ill-considered your behavior has been lately, I hope.”

“Obviously.”

Normally she wasn’t good at picking up sarcasm, but both brows went up. “Edith, you haven’t been yourself this fall. Do you want to talk to a specialist?”

I had no idea what she meant by that. “A psychologist or a brain doctor?”

“Whichever you think would be most helpful.”

The secrets I had locked in my head would only land me in the psych ward, if the shrink pried them out of me, and an MRI couldn’t solve these problems. So I shook my head. “Sorry, Mom. I think the college admission process is getting to me.”

Any mention of university usually diverted Mom into a lecture, but she didn’t take the bait this time. “Do you have a minute to talk?” She sounded oddly tentative.

“Sure.” Bemused, I followed her into the living room. Before sitting down, she made us both a cup of tea.

“I feel like I don’t know what to do with you anymore.”

“That’s an ominous beginning. I’ve been more trouble than usual lately, but—”

“I don’t mean we’re on the verge of shipping you off to boarding school.” She fiddled with the fringe on the afghan dangling from the back of the couch. “It’s hard for me to say this, but I perceive I haven’t been what you need, emotionally, as a mother.”

Oh Jesus.
A year ago, I would’ve loved to have this conversation with her. Now it was too late, though not for the reasons she feared. I fidgeted, picking up a pillow and clutching it to my chest, as if stuffing and fabric was a shield for awkwardness.

“You’re fine,” I mumbled.

“That’s nice of you, but it’s not true. I thought if we sent you to a good school and let you form your own emotional attachments while giving you space that would be enough. I can see now that it wasn’t.”

Part of me wanted to ask where this epiphany was before I ended up on the bridge, but I swallowed it along with a sudden ache in my throat. “I’m not sure where you’re going with this.”

Her face fell, but she soldiered gamely on. “I want us to have a better relationship, a closer one. We have science in common, at least. I don’t know much about your new interests, but I could stand to be more physically fit. Maybe we could work out together? There’s a nice facility at the university…” She bit her lip, sad and hopeful at the same time.

Nice olive branch, Mom.
I could either accept it or set it on fire. Since I hadn’t run in the morning since the creepiness started, I nodded. “We could go a couple of times in the afternoon and then maybe on Saturdays?”

“I’d like that. And … I wouldn’t hate it if you have time to teach me some things about doing my face. For parties?”

No more fugly red lipstick, Mom.

“That would be fun.” Not a word I typically used to describe anything related to my mother. “You’re an autumn, you know.”

Her unshaped brows shot up. “I’m a what now?”

“One step at a time.”

She wore a tentative smile, and I studied her. Her hair was a frazzled russet, badly in need of a good cut and some deep conditioning. For as long as I could remember, she had worn it in a messy knot. She was round, but not seriously overweight; she had the body of someone who didn’t move around a lot, understandable given how much of her time she spent writing on whiteboards and poring over legal pads.

“Would it be all right if I hugged you?”

For some reason, that choked me up. Tears rose to my eyes as I set aside the throw pillow. “You don’t have to ask. You can, anytime you want.”

I wish you did it more.

She smelled like lilac talcum powder when she reached over and squeezed me around the shoulders. “Your father and I love you very much. And we’re so proud of you, Edith.”

Exhaling in a shaky rush, I put my head on her shoulder. Her lumpy cardigan scratched my cheek, but it was a good five minutes before I moved. “Let’s hit the gym Thursday afternoon, okay?”

Mom actually looked misty when she nodded. “I’ll meet you there. We can swing by and grab takeout for dinner afterward, give your dad a break from cooking.”

If I was teaching her about hair and makeup, then I should ask to trade. “Maybe, if you have time, you could show me something about electrical sockets? And plumbing?”

“I’d be glad to. A woman should never—”

“Depend on a man if she’s capable of learning how to do something herself.”

She looked so surprised when I finished her sentence, then she burst out laughing. “It’s good to know I haven’t been shouting my wisdom down a well all these years.”

“Nope. Night, Mom.”

Wednesday was a good day, maybe because I was happy, and I just … didn’t think about the problems squatting on the horizon. Even pawns on a chessboard needed a day off now and then. I pretended I had Pandora’s box inside and shoved all the horrible feelings into it. On Thursday morning, Davina came back to school, and it astonished me how relieved I was. I wove through the crowd toward her.

“You back?”

Glumly she nodded. “I talked my mom into letting me see a therapist, but the traitorous bastard said the best thing for me was to get back on the horse that threw me.”

“Huh?”

“Coming back to school will prevent me from forming some kind of aversive phobia.” She yanked down a pink sign-up sheet with more than a hint of violence. “Oh, look. Allison’s gone wheels-up with her
coup d’état
and tryouts are tomorrow afternoon. I haven’t practiced at
all
, so I’ll be lucky to be mascot, after three years of taking their shit. God, sometimes I hate them
so
much.”

“Why didn’t you just make new friends?” I asked.

“Russ,” she said miserably. “God, I’d liked him since I was a freshman and he barely knew I was alive.”

“You don’t have to go out for the squad. Let Allison have it.”

She shook her head, wearing a ferocious frown. “Screw that. If I don’t make it, then it’s like I wasted
all
of that time and she wins.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Try out with me.”

I cackled, until I realized she was serious. “Why, to make you look better by comparison when I fall on my butt?”

“Partly,” she admitted. “But also for moral support.
Please
, Edie.”

“What the hell.” I liked Davina, apparently well enough to make an ass of myself in solidarity. “How long does it last? I need to tell Kian I’ll be late tomorrow.”

“Depends on when they call you to perform, but allow an hour.”

“Awesome.”

“You need an original cheer and then you’ll also be scored on how fast you learn the routine, along with the rest of your group. I don’t suppose you can do a backflip?”

“I can
walk
backward. Sort of.”

Davina smiled and slung an arm around my shoulders. “I would
not
be okay if you weren’t around this year. I’m glad we’re friends.”

She had no idea how much those four words meant to me … or how scared I was that something evil might be listening. I was like some kind of disaster demon, one touch, and the contagion spread, inky tendrils of malevolence creeping toward those I cared about. Still, I didn’t shift away because Davina needed the contact as much as I did; it took all of her bravado to pretend the stories about Russ weren’t breaking her heart, mostly because none of them included a whisper of what they’d been to each other for one sweet, short summer.

“My mom and I are hitting the gym this afternoon,” I said. “Maybe you could come along and afterward, you and I can work on something for the tryout?”

“Let me ask,” she said. “I’ll get back to you at lunch.”

Company at the table was thin: just Cameron, Davina, Allison, and me. Russ’s lacrosse pals sat elsewhere, as if they sensed the dark cloud hovering over the Teflon crew. Since Russ had bound them together, they’d separated into sub-cliques. Everyone was quiet, and after eating, I left, disturbed by the wreck Cameron had become. I understood his grief; in a short time he’d lost both his girlfriend and the person he’d thought was his best friend. A pang went through me at how I’d used Allison to deliver Russ’s barb about why they hung around with Cam.

“I’m with you,” Davina said, catching up as I hurried toward my locker. “I’m thinking we find a new table. I don’t even like anyone who’s left. Well, besides you.”

“Yeah. Sometimes you have to know when to let things go.”

If only I’d learned that lesson sooner.
But the promise of revenge got me through the weeks after the bridge and by the time school started again, I had some distance. If I hadn’t cared about getting even, I might not have taken the deal.
Is your life worth so many others?
It was too heavy a question to carry, so I set it aside and crammed it inside the metaphysical crate in my head.

“My mom said we can hang out, by the way. But she wants yours to call her, just to confirm we’ll have parental supervision.”

“That’s what happens when you lie and go to New Hampshire instead of the library,” I said, imitating my dad.

“I’m well aware, trust me.”

Before I went to class, I texted Kian that I didn’t need a ride. I felt bad making him chauffeur me around when I had plans with other people, so I told him I’d be with Davina and my mom at the gym. He replied,
I wouldn’t mind giving you and Davina a ride but it’s fine. I’ll move my stuff out of storage today instead.

That made me smile as I replied,
Does that mean you’ll read me another poem?

Maybe.

When I put my phone away, Davina was smirking at me. “Girl, you so can’t get enough of what he got.”

“You learn that grammar at Blackbriar?”

“Obviously.”

I smiled at her. “See you after school.”

We met up at the gate; Davina arrived first and we took the T to my place. She soaked everything in with an interested look. “I can tell your parents are teachers.”

The jumble of science journals and notepads no longer registered on me, but to someone else, it probably looked messy. “Professors, actually. Physics.” I’d mentioned it before, but maybe it didn’t sink in.

“Damn. No wonder nobody can touch you in that class.”

Since I’d invited her at the last minute, she needed workout gear. My T-shirt and yoga pants were a little big on her, but since the point was to sweat, it didn’t matter. It was odd having her in my room—two worlds colliding—but she didn’t say anything about all my scientist posters or my piles of books. Relieved, I texted my mom:
I’m on my way with Davina. Be there soon.

Okay. I’ll head over.

Introductions were awkward since my mom
knew
I went AWOL with Davina, but she fixed it with, “You must think I’m a bad influence, but I want you to know I’ll never ask Edie to do anything like that again. I hope you’ll give me another chance.”

Mom smiled. “Everyone makes mistakes, Davina, and yours was understandable. I’m glad to meet you.”