Vicious Deep (28 page)

“You're a prince, Tristan. You should learn to keep your emotions from your face.”

I open the door. She thumbs my cheek where her sticky pink lipstick must have left a trace. Someone bumps into her, sloshing a cup full of beer all over Gwen. Her gray eyes darken like the sky getting ready for a thunderstorm. A thunderstorm directed right at Maddy, who stands in a white David Bowie T-shirt and a long black skirt. Her eyes are drunken headlights as she pats Gwen's hip where the beer sloshed.

Maddy laughs and hiccups. She slurs an apology. Then she sees me. Her eyes fall to where my cheek is pink with lipstick. I wonder how many things could go wrong all at once without me even trying.

“Maddy.” When I say her name, her eyes focus.

I hold on to Gwen's hand to appease her, and her eyes go back to their unstormy gray.

“Your cousin?” Maddy says. “The one with the green hair? You know? She said I needed to come see you.”

She wobbles where she stands. She pulls her braids off to one side, and when she does so, her necklace gets caught. She pulls too hard and the chain breaks. It slides down her shirt. She cups her hands over it to stop it.

“What is that?” I don't care that I'm yelling.

Maddy shakes her head, but she loses her balance and gropes at the air. The necklace keeps sliding. I hold on to her by the waist. The Venus pearl falls to the wooden floor with a thud.

“You lied to me,” I say.

“You cheated on me!”

Thalia ascends the staircase and takes in the sight of us. I don't know who she's more surprised to see, Gwen or Maddy.

“Let go of me!” Maddy pushes me off her, and we both grab for the necklace at the same time. Her fingers clamp around it. I'm flashing back to junior high football when we had a coed team for about a second. I always lost the ball, because I didn't want to hurt the girls. She elbows me in the gut and steps on my feet.

“Maddy, you don't know what you're doing. I need that back.”

From outside the house there's a crashing noise, like windows breaking and things falling into the pool. Gwen doesn't miss a beat and grabs hold of Maddy's arm. The three of us run down the carpeted stairs.

“Ryan.” Thalia pushes girls out of her way and runs ahead of me.

“What is that
smell
?” Gwen covers her mouth with her free hand.

I can feel the heat of my dagger, like it's burning its way through the backpack. Kids race past us out of the house as we run toward the backyard. The music is still blaring, masking the screams.

In the kitchen the floor is covered with broken glass. Some guy has a phone shaking in his hands as he tries to dial 911 but messes up every time. Outside, anyone who couldn't run away is hiding behind lawn chairs, bushes, and garbage cans.

Gwen lets go of Maddy and rushes to the poolside. Princess Violet is lying with her hand against her chest. There's a shard of glass sticking out from it. The girl's green eyes are full of tears. Gwen pulls out the glass and helps her stand up. Angelo swims out of the pool. He doesn't notice the bloody cut on his shoulder, or he doesn't care. He just drapes the princess's arm around his neck and helps her inside.

The lights in the house go out, which only leaves the mosquito torches that line the backyard. The darkness is still. The merrows are hiding.

Kurt pulls out a thin bow, and the metal symbols on it catch the firelight and glisten. I fumble with the zipper to my backpack. The blade of my knife glows in the dark. Thalia brandishes two long and thin swords.

“I shouldn't have come here,” I say. “I should've known.”

Layla looks at me and speaks. But as a scream rips through the scared silence of the backyard, I can't even hear her.

The merrows seem to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

One with yellow scales along his arms seems to be more human than fish. Then he bares his rows of shark teeth. He smells the air and lets loose with an angry wail.

“Stay down,” I tell Maddy, pushing her as gently as I can behind a patio chair.

In the meantime the yellow merrow has vanished. Kurt wrestles with a hammerhead merrow who looks like nothing but sinewy strength. Angelo runs out brandishing an aluminum baseball bat. I'm ready to run to Angelo's side, but he's caught a red one with a face like something that hasn't surfaced from the depths of the sea in years. Once it's dead, it starts decomposing, but he keeps swinging.

Their rotting flesh and black blood covers the ground, sticky under our bare feet. We stand waiting as the merrows hide in the shadows again, watching us.

Maddy is pulling on my shirt. “What's happening?” She cries when she realizes there's a thin line of blood on her arm. I wipe it off. It isn't hers. It's dripping from above us.

The yellow-scaled merrow wrestles with someone on the balcony. It's so dark I can't see who he's fighting, I can only hear the loud snap of a neck. The wail of triumph. The heave of the body over the merrow's head. He throws the limp body over the balcony but misses the pool by a few inches. The body rolls over once until it lies on the blue tiles, broken. Then again until it falls into the pool with a splash.

Not it. He. Until
he
falls.

“Tristan!” Kurt yells. The hammerhead is on Kurt's back, jaws open to bite.

I run.

I slip on the slick ground.

I keep my blade out and cut cleanly across both the hammerhead's ankles. When I right myself, I see Thalia's thin dagger pierce the creature's neck. The weight of him collapses on top of Kurt, and they topple into the pool.

Maddy screams. A blue merrow sniffs at the air around her.

It smells me.

It goes in for her.

I don't think about the fact that they're yards away, that if I miss by a few centimeters I will probably slice off my ex-girlfriend's face, which might make her like me even less. What I do know is that I can make it. I know it like I know I'm my mother's son. I throw my dagger and it pierces the merrow's spine.

The merrow stumbles once, deteriorating into mush as he does. It's like smelling a fish market and burning sulfur in chemistry class at the same time. It's not the most opportune time to think that I'll never get the smell off me. The black blood splatters over Maddy's clothes.

I walk over and pull my dagger out of what's left of the merrow's back.

Gwen walks out of the shattered doorframe. There are black smudges on her white-blond hair. “The human authorities are on their way. I can hear their sirens.”

In the pool, the body of the dead boy floats face down. The water is muddy with merrow chunks and blood. Kurt lies on his back with his bow clutched to his chest. Layla bends down at his side. There's a long gash on her arm. How could I have been so stupid? I get on my knees and hold Maddy's face in my hands. She rubs her cheek against my dirty palm.

“I'm sorry,” I say. “I can say it a million times and it won't matter. But this does. I can't explain it now. I don't know if I ever could. But I need that necklace.”

She sobs once and shuts her eyes like she's still trying to shut me out.

“Or this is just going to keep happening.”

She puts her shut palm over mine and opens it slowly, a flower blooming in the dark. The Venus pearl is in her hand, glowing pink in the blinking light above us. We're both so still that the automatic motion detector light goes out.

When I take it from her, the lights come back on. I pocket it before she changes her mind.

I slink her arm around my shoulder. I press my lips on her cheek and she pulls away.

“You stink,” she says.

“Tell me something I don't know.”

Behind us, those who notice the quiet come out of their hiding places. There is so much confusion, but it's mostly a lot of screaming poolside. My insides churn when I recognize the clothes. Thalia's small, shaking frame is draped over his still body. The lights of the house come back on. The floor is littered with glass, and the stone ground is stained forever.

None of that matters. I have the pearl in my pocket, but it doesn't matter, because I let this happen. I did nothing, and now Ryan is dead. His gaping blue eyes stare at nothing. Thalia takes his hand and presses it against her wet face. She smooths his hair back. She brings her fist down on his chest. Between all the cries the only one I hear is hers.

“Stay,” she says in a whisper so small, I'm not sure she even says it at all.

Get up,” she says in my ear. “Get up right now.”

Gwen grabs my hand and pulls on it. I can't move. I can't close my eyes. For what seems like forever, I sit in the shadows of the backyard watching as the others mourn Ryan's body. I watched it happen. I didn't know it was him. I could've done something. I should've kept my worlds separate like Kurt said. How can I protect everyone I care about? I can't. I have to go through with this. I can't keep losing.

Gwen's hand slaps across my face.

“That hurt.”

“It was supposed to.”

She stands above me, holding her hand out. I take it and don't let go as we run along the narrow path around the house and into the front yard.

“What are you doing?” She hesitates as I pick out one of the bikes parked out front. I pull out my dagger and cut the chains off.

“Just put your feet on those little metal bars and hold on to me.”

“Tristan.” She says my name nervously.

“Don't worry, hold on to me. You won't fall.”

I can hear the police cars once we've put distance between us and the music. Gwen's arms are cool against my sweaty, stinky skin. She wraps them around my neck without strangling me. I pedal. We wobble at first, but I put all of my leg muscles into it, and we glide fast, past the rows of houses with families clutching each other on their lawns because something terrible has happened in their perfect neighborhood. I pedal with the wind in my face, zooming down the Coney Island summer street.

•••

At the entrance to the subway station, the “e” in Coney Island flickers super fast until it just goes off completely. People stare and take pictures like it's the most wondrous thing they've ever witnessed.

A police officer with his back against the wall stands up when he sees me. I hold the bike over my shoulder so maybe he'll think I'm covered in mud. He sniffs the air, and even though I'm not standing directly in front of him, he makes a face like he wants to gag.

“Everyone is looking,” Gwen says. I would think she were used to it.

“Well, I'm covered in merrow goo and you're half naked. Of course they're looking.”

“Was that a compliment?”

“No.” I stop at the MetroCard station and feed it money.

It pops out the yellow MetroCard, and I love that Gwen, with all her smoke-bending magic, stares at it with her eyes wide open and says, “How did you do that?”

I wiggle my dirty fingers near her face and snap them to make her jump back. “Magic.”

She purses her lips.

We use the big entrance. Four lines leave from here, and I don't know where to go. I dangle the pearl in front of Gwen. “If I were an oracle, where would I be?”

Her gray eyes follow it. I wonder if I could hypnotize her by doing this long enough. She taps her chin with her index finger, completely oblivious to me. “I don't know about oracles, but if I were a magical object with an owner, I could find her anywhere.”

I push the bike to the map on the wall. “We're here.” I glance around to where people walk in and out of the train station. Ryan is dead and the world continues like it didn't even happen. I shake my head to focus. “What do I do?”

“Just hold it near but not against. It should guide you to her.”

A bald man walks past with his children in hand. “Daddy, that man stinks so bad!” The man gives me a nasty look but smiles at Gwen, the mermaid princess.

“Stand over there, will you?” I ask her.

“Why?” Hands on hips.

“Because if you're standing there smiling, no one will pay attention to me.”

“Oh.” She leans against the bike, reminding me strangely of the posters on Angelo's bedroom walls.

I feel so stupid holding a pink pearl against a grimy subway map while a mermaid queen in a bikini stands against a bicycle. Nothing happens at first, but just when I'm going to pull away and blame it on Gwen, the chain pulls against my hand. Like a magnet, the pearl runs along the map, past Brooklyn, past the Verazzano Bridge, and I curse at the thought that we might have to go to Staten Island. But it rights itself and shoots straight up to Manhattan, past the Empire State Building and Times Square, right to Turtle Pond in Central Park. “Got it.”

“Good, because that man just gave me this.” She holds a twenty in her hands.

“I should keep you around more often.”

We make it through the doors just as the conductor announces them closing. I grab a seat in the middle by the maps. We're alone.

“May I?” She holds her hand out to me, and I place the pearl in the center of her palm. It's funny how the lines in her palm are so different from mine, thinner and shorter. I don't know what I'm expecting her to do—make it bigger, make it dance. She makes a sweet, pensive sound, then hands it back to me. The train lurches and she falls on top of me. The bike falls to the floor. For a second all I can think about is crochet and sequins.

She pushes herself up and gets comfortable across the three seats with her feet on my lap. She wiggles her toes, which I guess is a mermaid thing. The newness of feet.

“Stop thinking about it,” she says.

“How can I stop thinking about it? I see his face when I shut my eyes.”

“There's nothing you could've done.”

“I hate when people say that. Because it's not true. I could've been faster. I don't expect you to get it.”

She regards me coolly. “Just because I've seen a lot of death does not mean I'm immune to it, Tristan. This isn't a game. It's a war of few, but still a war. You have to decide that you're going to come out of it alive or not at all.”

“You know, Gwen,” I say, “I'm glad that you're on my team.”

“I'm not on your team. I'm on
my
team. You just happen to be on it as well.”

“I'll be sure to remember that.”