Vengeance Bound (2 page)

“Oh,” I say. But in the back of my mind the Furies are screaming in joy. Hurting men like Annie’s dad is Their idea of fun.

She looks at me. “You have to help me.” She swallows hard and turns back to the road. “I looked at your file. Before I started palming your meds. That’s why I had to save you.” A heavy pause. “I know what you did.”

She’s talking about the suspected homicide that landed me in Saint Dymphna’s in the first place. I was cleared of the charges because it’s hard to convict a fourteen-year-old girl of giving a grown man a heart attack. But the charges were enough to kill my poor grandmother, and for Dr. Goodhart to convince the state of Georgia that I needed specialized “care” after it took over guardianship.

“Yes,” I say, even though she has yet to ask the question. The Furies are too hungry for me to say no. And I owe her one, no matter what her reasons for helping me. Without her I’d still be lying comatose on a bunk.

“You’ll help me,” she says, surprise lacing her voice. I guess she didn’t think I’d agree so easily.

“Yes, I’ll help you.” I look out the window, weighing my words. “Do you have somewhere you and your sister can go?”

She nods. “My aunt’s. She’s been trying to get custody of us for a while, but Daddy has too many connections.” She pauses. “What’re you going to do?”

“I’m going to handle it.”

She frowns, and I grin at her. It feels strange to smile after being a near vegetable for so long. “Don’t worry,” I say. “He’ll never see it coming, and you and your sister will be safe.”

She doesn’t say anything, and I look out the window. I’ve been free for less than an hour, and I’m already back to my same old tricks. The Furies are all I have left.

But I’m not afraid anymore. Not this time.

I know They’ll take care of me.

HUGS AND KISSES, YOUR WORST NIGHTMARE

I put the car in park and stare at the building before me. I can’t believe I’m here. West County, Pennsylvania. Last week it was just a spot on the map, another potential stop on this endless road trip. Now it’s home. At least for a little while.

It’s been two years since I escaped Saint Dymphna’s, and I’ve been on the road ever since.

I get out of the car and look up at where I’ll be living for the next few months. It’s a dump. Even rural backwaters like West County have their dark places. This is one of them. From the look of it the oversize house was once magnificent, probably a mansion for a wealthy mine owner back when West County was still coal country. At some point the neighborhood turned the corner, from the place to be, to the place to flee, and someone bought the house and chopped it into minuscule apartments. Very cheap apartments.

I get out of the car and head inside, lugging my trunk up the stairs to my new place. I’ve stayed in dozens of apartments just like this one. They’re a great place to crash for a couple of months. Everyone keeps to themselves, and the landlords look the other way as long as the rent’s on time. It’s a cheap place to disappear, full of two-bit hustlers, single mothers struggling to get by, and illegal immigrants on a pit stop to the American dream. The kind of people who will mind their own business and won’t worry about a blond girl who comes and goes at all hours of the day and night.

As I trudge up the rickety steps to my apartment, a baby cries and is shushed lovingly in Spanish. Rap music blares through a closed apartment door, and a couple argue loudly on the landing about a missing tax return check. I ignore all of it, and let myself into my tiny one-bedroom apartment.

The place is cold enough that I can see my breath, and I fiddle with the knob on the radiator until steams hisses through it. As the metal heats with creaks and knocks, I drag my trunk into my room and kick it into my closet. The apartment is furnished, so after another trip back downstairs to grab Odie’s cat carrier and my laptop, I’m all finished moving in. I put everything down and look around the dingy, cramped space. Home sweet home.

I let Odie out and sit on the couch. Tomorrow I will start a new school for the ninth and hopefully last time. This year I will graduate. I’ve managed to cobble together enough credits that I should be able to finally get a diploma. Rather, my alias Corinne Graff will be able to graduate. Amelie Ainsworth is still in hiding.

I sigh. The thought of school fills me with anxiety. I would stop going altogether, but the one time I did that, I started to lose myself. It was during a short stint in South Carolina, and after two months of nothing but sleeping and justice, I didn’t like the person I was becoming. The Furies are violent and bloodthirsty, and being just like Them is the last thing I need. At least with school I have a connection to the human race that doesn’t involve killing.

I rest my head in my hands. Exhaustion makes me feel like I weigh a thousand pounds. When I think of school, I inevitably think about the future. But what is my future? Keep killing and living like a nomad, or settle down in a big city and live a double life? College by day, justice by night? That isn’t appealing. It just sounds tiring.

I yawn and climb to my feet, trying to shake off my uncertainty. It’s too early to worry about all of that. I have a few months until graduation, and I’ve just arrived in West County. It’s a fresh start. No one knows me here, no one suspects what I do for fun, and Dr. Goodhart is somewhere in Pennsylvania. I’ll find him, and after I take care of him, I’ll focus on the small detail of the future.

I have all the time in the world.

And right now it’s time to hunt.

I stick my thumb out and walk slowly along the highway. The blowing snow blinds me and makes my eyes water, so I duck my head into the collar of my jacket to hide my face as much as possible. It doesn’t really help. It ain’t fit out for man or beast, as my grandmother used to say.

Perfect for me.

I’m busy trying to keep the snow out of my eyes, so the minivan catches me by surprise. It swings onto the shoulder in front of me, appearing from out of nowhere. The passenger door opens, and I run toward the light and jump into the heated interior in relief. About time.

“Thanks,” I gasp, holding my half-frozen hands out to the heater vents. The blast of warm air melts the snow on my gloves, and I sigh in relief.

“No problem, sweetheart.” The driver pulls out cautiously onto the road, and I study him while he focuses on his task. Early thirties, dark hair, good-looking, probably wearing a wedding ring under his gloves. There’s a child’s car seat behind me. Family man, as though the minivan weren’t already a dead giveaway. I worry for a moment that I have the wrong guy. He has a soft look to his face, like he’d spend his spare time rescuing kittens. This can’t be the guy I want.

“So, what’s a nice girl like you doing hitchhiking on a night like this?” Laugh lines crinkle as he smiles at me. It would be a nice expression if it weren’t for the cruelty glittering in his eyes.

Still, I want to be wrong. I don’t want to believe this man with a car seat in the back and an Elmo doll peeking out from behind the driver’s seat could be a murderer. He looks harmless. Maybe he’s innocent. After two years of this, I want to believe there’s still something good in this world.

Maybe this man driving in the middle of a snowstorm is just an average guy going to get milk so his kids can have hot cocoa.

He’s thinking how nice it will be to cut out your heart.

The whisper in the back of my mind isn’t unexpected, and it puts the brakes on any doubts I may have had about the man driving. The truth is, I’ve been walking down this road every night for the past week, waiting for him to pick me up. We’ve been looking for him since I got to West County.

Let’s finish him now. I want to watch him squirm.

I mentally silence the voices and turn a wide smile to the man. I haven’t yet answered his question, and I hope it seems like I was considering my answer instead of the quality of his sins. “My mom and I had a fight, so I need to get to the bus station. My dad lives out in New York.” I notice the way he licks his lips before looking away. I’m a girl that could disappear without anyone knowing about it for a while. Just his type.

“Oh, that’s too bad, honey. Well, I don’t think the buses are running in this weather, but I’ll give you a ride into town anyway.”

I give him a wide smile. “Thanks. That’s really nice of you.”

“Did you want to call your mom and let her know where you are, so she doesn’t worry? You can borrow my phone.”

“Naw. She’ll be passed out by now. She always gets drunk after she gets paid.” I look out the window, like I’m fighting back emotion. In another life I could’ve been an actress.

“Oh, okay. I see.” I can almost feel the glee coming off him. In the back of my mind They keep up a constant dialogue, arguing between Themselves.

First we need to find a spot, somewhere off the main road . . .
The serpent woman’s sibilant voice trails off as she starts to plan. She’s interrupted by the hawk’s scream.

No. Let’s do it now!

Patience, Tisiphone. We must do it right.

The serpent, Megaera, is correct. Rushing ends in disaster.

The car turns down a nearly invisible road, little more than a cut through the woods. I turn to the driver with what I hope is alarm. “This isn’t the way into town.”

“I have to go by a friend’s house first, before I take you to the bus station. You don’t mind, do you?”

Not at all, but any girl with half a brain would be a little afraid. “Can’t you go by his house on the way back?”

“Nope. Sorry.” He turns his well-practiced smile on me once again, his face absent of any apology. Even if I didn’t have Them in the back of my mind, I would know there was something off about this man.

But if I were a normal girl, it would be too late.

Snow and darkness hide the road, even with the headlights attempting to cut through the gloom. Trees press in on either side, their branches scraping the glass like the scrabbling hands of vengeful victims. I kind of like the sound.

We ride in silence until the trees open up, revealing a rustic cabin. I lean forward, trying to see through the windshield. “Your friend lives here?”

“Actually, no.” He turns off the car and lunges for me. I’m taken by surprise. I expected him to lure me inside the cabin. His hands lock around my throat, and I gasp as my air supply is cut off. I pry ineffectively at his fingers for a few heart-pounding seconds, but already there are dark spots at the edges of my vision.

Time to call for backup.

I release the hold I have on Them, and They boil forth, manifesting from the back of my mind. The heat of another realm fills the interior of the van, and the snowflakes sticking to the outside of the windows melt away. There isn’t much room for Them in the minivan. Tisiphone’s mottled brown wings press against the glass of the windows, and the serpents on Megaera’s head brush the roof of the minivan. The sight of Them crammed into the narrow space behind the driver’s seat would make me laugh, if I weren’t being strangled.

Something must show in my expression, because the man turns just in time for Megaera to grab him with a scaled hand. Whatever he was going to say trails off in a gurgle as the serpent throws him backward. His head hits the driver’s side-window with a dull cracking sound.

I cough as air fills my lungs. The man gives me and my companions a wide-eyed look and fumbles behind him for the handle. The door flies open, and he flees. I’m in no condition to chase him or control Them. My body is enjoying being able to breathe again, and my throat aches. They take advantage of the freedom, tearing out into the snowy night behind the man. Over the howling of the wind I can hear his screams of terror, and I lurch out of the car to follow the sound, tracking the path of melted snow through the forest while I gasp for breath. I stop when I find Them, the guilty man hunching at the base of a pine tree.

“Don’t,” I croak as Tisiphone raises one of her talon-hands to swipe at the man. She pauses, hand poised in midair. They would usually burn away a soul if given half the chance, but it has been a while since They were allowed to play. They’re savoring his pain and fear. He’s a treat, a man with a long history of hurting women. Someone who has caused that much pain deserves to suffer. It’s the only reason he’s still alive.

But I can’t let Them hurt him the way They want to. The coroner won’t exactly think it’s just a heart attack if this guy looks like he was attacked by an animal.

His eyes light on me, and he lunges forward, Tisiphone’s hesitation the opening he needed. He doesn’t get far. She grabs him by the throat and jams him against the tree hard enough to dislodge snow from the branches. It evaporates into steam around us. The snow on the ground has already melted from Their presence, revealing a thick carpet of dried pine needles.

While I’m studying the ground, Tisiphone’s talon-fingers clench, the black nails cutting into the soft flesh of his neck. At my pointed look she lets him go and steps back. He rubs the bloody spots on his throat. “What are you? What the hell are you?” the man blabbers, and I can’t help but smile.