Pretty Dark Nothing (21 page)

“Hurry.”
Its fat, greasy belly undulated as it fluttered its wings in agitation.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t.”

The urgency in her voice prompted Teresa to nudge Marcus in the ribs. “I need your car keys.”

“What for?”

Still attached to Teresa’s shoulder, the beast licked its leathery lips with a forked tongue.

“You leaving me or something?” Marcus’s eyes grew wide, and he raised his hand and sniffed his underarm. “I showered, used deodorant. Is it my breath?” He cupped his hand in front of his mouth and breathed out. Then he sucked the air back into his nostrils. “Ahhhh, minty fresh.”

“Just shut up and give me your keys.” Teresa held out her hand, but Marcus just stared at her. “Quinn needs something out of my purse, and I left it in the car,” Teresa snapped. Marcus still didn’t move. “It’s a girl thing. Do you want me to go into detail?”

“No!”

“Keys.”
The demon hissed at Marcus.

“Here, take them. I don’t want to know.” Marcus dug in his pocket, handed the keys to Teresa, and Teresa dangled them in front of Quinn.

Had Marcus heard the demon? The beast smacked its cracked lips, turned its narrow head toward Reese, and inserted its slimy tongue into her ear. Quinn blanched.

“Damn mosquitoes.” Reese slapped at her cheek. “Do you want me to go with you?”

Yes!
The imp narrowed its eyes at her, stroking long talons through Teresa’s hair.

“Um, no … I need … I think I can handle this mission on my own. Besides, I don’t want you to miss anything.” Quinn grabbed the keys from Teresa. “Be right back.” The demon laughed and blinked from Teresa’s shoulder to Quinn’s. Its fetid breath, rank as a rotting corpse, made her stomach coil. Holding her breath, she walked up the aisle, blood parting like the red sea wherever she stepped.

Don’t panic. Calm, normal steps. Nothing is wrong.

She kept her head down, pausing when she reached the stone arch. Was she abandoning Reese, Aaron, and Marcus to the bloody gore? She knew,
knew
it wasn’t real. Still, she couldn’t help but take a step back into the church.

The demon horde flew at her. She covered her face as they scratched and clawed at her exposed flesh.

“Get out!”

She sprinted through the door and into the dark. There wasn’t anything she could do for them now.

More writhing shadows wrapped the outside of St. Angeles. Demon gargoyles lined the headstones in the cemetery, taking flight as Quinn raced across the dirt lot. Hundreds of wings beat behind her, their stinking breath hot on her neck. She had to lead them away. Away from Aaron and Reese. Home, she had to get home.

Quinn pushed the button on Marcus’ key fob. The headlights blinked twice, illuminating the scarred bark of the oak tree in front of it. Shadows hung from the branches, like an evil, weeping willow.

Keeping her eyes on the tree—afraid at any moment it might come to life and crush her beneath the weight of all those shadows—she opened the door, got in the Jeep, and locked it. She jammed the key into the ignition, turning it hard. The motor roared to life, and she realized the Jeep was a standard.

“Great.” She grumbled under her breath. “Okay, don’t panic, you can do this.” Quinn turned the interior light on and glanced at the gearshift. “R for reverse. That’s simple.” She looked in the rearview mirror for the all clear. A dozen leathery beasties leered at her through the rear window, wings beating slowly as they pecked at the glass with curved talons.

Gripping the stick shift in her hand, Quinn shoved it to the right and back. She pressed her foot on the gas, revved the engine, and let her foot off the clutch. The Jeep sped backward. The demons screeched and shot straight up. She turned the wheel to the right, then slammed her foot on the brake before she crashed into another car.

“Piece of cake.” Quinn worked on relaxing her mind. “Forward? No problem.” She pushed the stick up into first gear and paused. Again she revved the engine, took her foot off the brake, and let out the clutch. This time, the Jeep lurched forward, then died. Quinn glanced out at the tree where several of the demons perched, staring at her with beady eyes, craning their necks, daring her to abandon the Jeep, but she wouldn’t give them the satisfaction. Determined, she leaned forward, gripped the stick, and tried again, doing her best to ignore the watching throng.

First, clutch, gas, lurch, stall. Clutch, gas, lurch, stall. Clutch, gas, lurch, stall.

Quinn pounded the steering wheel. “Who drives a stick shift in the twenty-first century!”

The outburst inspired her dark audience to taunt her from their twisted wooded balconies. Quinn took a deep breath and turned the radio full blast, drowning out the grating cackles—at least for the moment.

“Come on, girl,” she cooed at the Jeep. “You can do it. It’s not that hard. Please, baby, for me. It’s just five miles.” She turned the key, let out the clutch as she put her foot on the gas, and the vehicle lurched forward. This time, it didn’t stall. Quinn popped the Jeep into second, making her way out onto Westland Boulevard.

Turning left onto the dirt road, Quinn shifted into third, then fourth gear. She raced through the first stop sign, not daring to look in the rearview mirror for fear of what she would see. When she hit fifty-five, Quinn shifted the Jeep into overdrive. The Jeep jerked and swayed as she sped down the potholed, winding, two-lane road.

Two more deserted intersections, two more stop signs, and dirt turned to tarmac.

“Stay green, stay green.”

The light flicked from green to yellow as Quinn sped through the intersection and onto the long stretch of CR-718 from Eastwood to home.

At sixty-five miles an hour she approached the Westland turn off. She mashed the clutch with her left foot and pushed the stick shift back into first. The gears groaned, and the Jeep shuddered. She slammed her right foot on the brake. The force threw her forward, and the Jeep came to a full stop midway through the turn. Hundreds of tiny winged demons flocked around the car, claws scraping metal, clamoring against the glass, as they searched for a way to penetrate her safe haven. And then she saw it, bright lights, headlights, speeding toward her.

“Okay, okay.” She hurried to give it gas, but in her panic released the clutch too soon, and the engine died. The headlights bore down on her. She braced herself for the collision. The thought of Aaron and his mother came flooding into her mind: speeding, car wreck—death. Quinn closed her eyes to the blinding light in front of her, her only thought now, if she survived, was the wreckage of her friendships following the wreckage of Marcus’s Jeep.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“That was so awesome.” Jenna hugged Aaron, and he half hugged her in return as he searched for Quinn over her shoulder. No sign of her. All night he’d been trying to get a read on Quinn, to find out what was causing her to fidget and cling to him so much, but every time he touched her, his gift was greeted by the same endless stark wasteland. It wasn’t until he started singing “Starlight Memory” that she reignited the thread. A crackle of connection, like changing the frequency on a radio, raced through him as she beamed up at him. A flash of warmth, a feeling of intense love overwhelmed him, making him want to sing to her in private. Well, maybe do more than just sing. Then the flash was gone, and she was lost to him again, no trace of the connection remained.

“Yeah, that was great, man.” Ben put his arm around Jenna and held up his hand for a high five. “I feel like we’re a real band now, playing original stuff.”

“Are we going out to celebrate?” Jenna asked.

“Sure, if it’s okay with Quinn.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want to ruin your date.” Jenna scanned the room. “Where is she anyway? Don’t tell me she left before the end.” Jenna put a finger to each nostril, sniffed, and raised her eyebrow at Aaron.

“I know you don’t like her, but she’s not a druggie,” Aaron snapped.

“Okay.” Jenna rolled her eyes. “You know her better than I do.”

“She’ll be off somewhere with Reese. Look, there’s Marcus. I’m sure he’ll know.” Aaron reached out to Quinn with his mind, but couldn’t find her, convincing him even more that she controlled the link, not him.

“Meet us at Tony’s if you find her. The pizza’s on Cade.”

Marcus was talking to a leggy blond in a short, vinyl mini. No Quinn or Reese in sight. He tapped Marcus on the shoulder.

“Oh, hey! Great song, bro. The crowd loved it. Aaron, this is … ”

“Beth, Beth Adams.”

“Beth, right. I told her I was with the band.”

“Nice to meet you, Beth. Aaron wiped his hands on his jeans. “Sorry, my hands are kind of sweaty.” He took her hand. “I’m—”

“Aaron. I know. Call me sometime.” She handed Aaron a torn piece of paper with her number written in bright red ink. “See you around.” She winked and smoothed a curl from her eye.

Marcus stood at the foot of the stage, hands in his pockets. “You get a number, and I get zilch. I feel so used.”

“Where are the girls?”

“Reese ran into some girl she knew from cheer camp or something. I think they’re giggling in some corner.”

“Is Quinn with her?”

“Probably. Marcus glanced over at Beth. “Man, I don’t know how you can resist such fineness.” He grabbed the number from Aaron’s hand. “Just in case Reese changes her mind. Or Quinn changes hers. Besides, I bet I can sell this baby to the highest bidder.”

“You better not let Reese catch you with that, or you’ll need the number for the nearest hospital.”

“Hey.” Reese came up behind Marcus, hands on her hips. “Did I hear my name?”

“Hey, baby. I was just telling Aaron how hot you look tonight. Right, Aaron?” Marcus elbowed him and winked.

“Is Quinn with you?” Aaron asked, ignoring Marcus.

“No. I thought she’d come straight back here.”

“Straight back from where?”

“Oh, yeah. Forgot to tell you, she went outside during the last song. Girl stuff. Don’t ask. TMI.” Marcus shivered.

Aaron rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you check outside?”

“Why would I do that? I thought she would be back by now.”

“What if something happened?”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere. Where would she go?” Teresa folded her arms in front of her and gave Aaron a defensive glare. “She’s probably waiting for us at the car.”

He started down the center aisle. “What are you waiting for? Come on.” The parking lot was almost empty.

“She wasn’t feeling well. Maybe she took a walk for some fresh air,” Teresa suggested.

“What the?” Marcus said.

Aaron stared at his bike and the empty space beside it.

“You gave her your keys,” Teresa said.

“No, you gave her my keys,” Marcus corrected.

“She can’t drive a standard,” Teresa said.

“Apparently she can.”

“She’s not here now, so why don’t the two of you stop fighting.” Aaron handed Teresa the spare helmet. “She probably went home. Marcus, you stay here in case she comes back.”

“Why do I have to stay?”

Aaron pointed at Teresa. “Cause she’s a girl.”

“That’s so sexist.”

If she’d really been in trouble, he would know, wouldn’t he? She always had connected with him in the past; this time wouldn’t be any different. Aaron revved the engine. Teresa climbed on behind him, and they were off, leaving Marcus standing in the empty spot where his Jeep used to be.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The Camaro let out a menacing cry as it sped around the Jeep. Quinn cringed at the middle finger that appeared in the Camaro’s window.

“Fuck you, too!” she screamed at the dust left in the wake of the speeding car. “As if he cares.” Quinn trembled as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “Get a grip. Crying isn’t going to get you out of the middle of this intersection.” She turned the key in the ignition and grabbed the stick shift.

Turn around. Take the Jeep back. Tell them everything.

The fat, yellow-eyed demon materialized on her headrest.
“They’ll hate you.”

No.

“Call you crazy.”

No.

“Yes.”

Not Teresa.

“Especially her.”
Two more fiends popped into being on the passenger seat, listening as their leader poured on words of persuasion, nodding their angled, bony heads in agreement.

“You don’t even know her,” Quinn argued.

“We know everything. We know all of them.”

“But you told me to leave!” Quinn said. “You were threatening me. This is all your fault.”

Their grinding, metallic snickers filled the car.

“Go away!” Quinn screamed.

“You stole Marcus’s Jeep.”

“I had to get out of there.”

“You did it on purpose.”

“I had no other choice. You made me!”

Tears cascaded down Quinn’s cheeks, twin waterfalls of confusion and frustration.

“Did we?”

“They’ll understand.”

“Will they?”

“I think.”

“Or will they hate you? Better to lie.”
The demon stroked Quinn’s hair with pointy, onyx claws.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, sending shockwaves of vibration down her thigh. Aaron? Reese? They would have noticed her missing by now. Answer it and tell them everything. No, they would hate her if she told the truth. Even Reese. That was the demon talking. She shook her head. She and Reese had always shared everything, and she was sick of hiding from her best friend. What about Aaron? He had trusted her with his secret. Confiding in him would be so easy. The way he looked at her, like he saw through her damage, saw the Quinn she wanted to be. He could never hate her.

“I can’t.” Tremors seized her hand as she dug in her pocket. Pain raced up every nerve as the demon sunk its claws into her flesh. She whimpered and tried to squirm away, but the demon pushed a strange fog through the ends of the talons, like a syringe, working its way through her skin, invading her veins, eating away her resolve, possessing her. Maybe the demons were right. She should stop fighting them and start trusting them. They were only trying to help.