Authors: Stacey Jay

Tags: #Romance Speculative Fiction

You Are So Undead to Me (25 page)

BOOK: You Are So Undead to Me

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If only my ragged soul could be so easily soothed.

I collapsed on the edge of my narrow bed and buried my face in my hands, but I refused to cry. My entire sophomore year was ruined. Tears wouldn’t fix that any more than coffee. Nothing could fix it. I was just going to have to learn to live with the fact that one of my biggest high school dreams wasn’t going to come true.

After nearly dying, missing my shot at the pom squad shouldn’t have bothered me so much. But it did. It was just another thing my Settler powers had taken from me. Another sign that my life was never going to be normal or my future mine to decide. Not ever again.

CHAPTER 15

Quit pouting, Megan. I’m going to lose it if I’m stuck in the house with you for three or four more weeks of this,” Mom said, letting her salad fork rattle back into her nearly empty bowl.

We’d been told our time at the compound might be extended if my training didn’t progress as quickly as Barker and his team hoped.

Barker’s
team
actually only consisted of one other big, scary guy named Smythe—apparently all of the lamo Enforcer dudes thought it was cool to have one-word names, like they were Sting or Bono or something—and a tiny woman with inch-thick glasses who told me to call her Kitty.

Kitty had already put me through my paces for two hours after school, making me practice setting frozen turkeys on fire out on the compound basketball court. After the first forty-five minutes I nailed the flame command and even learned how to snuff out fires once I’d started them. Leaving the RCs burning last night had been a huge drain on my power. That was why I’d lost the ability to torch more of them and been so worn out when I was trying to swim across the duck pond.

That
sure would have been good to know before I was nearly killed.

Kitty also told me I probably could have used a single-process
reverto
spell to get rid of the corpses in the woods. It wasn’t something they taught most Settlers, but she said that if I concentrated my power on one undead at a time—especially if I was able to lay hands on the RC, as I’d done with the first one who attacked me—I would be able to send them back to their Maker.

A better choice, however, would have been the
pax frater corpus
. Since my power was stronger than your average Settler’s, I could conceivably put down a few dozen undead during the first speaking of the spell. All I had to do was start chanting and then focus the spell on one corpse after another with sharp physical contact. Like, say, a grand jeté to the face or a right hook, if I ever discovered my inner Muhammad Ali.

That was what Barker had done to the two zombies who had me trapped in the water—smashed their zombie skulls in while
pax frater
-ing. He’d said it was very therapeutic . . . not that you could tell from looking at him.

The big, scowly faced Enforcer was standing a foot away from my chair practically breathing down my neck. Apparently, losing track of me once had made him determined not to let me out of his sight. The only time I had privacy was in the bathroom. Even at school he’d been lurking in the hallways, under cover as a school security officer.

“Megan, I mean it. Stop pou—”

“I’m not pouting, I’m
chewing
,” I said, making no effort to rearrange my face in a way that would be more pleasing to my mother. Tryouts were probably finishing up even as we ate and the seniors settling down to decide who would make the team.

“Fine.
Chew
away. I need some air.” Mom shoved away from the table and slammed through the sliding glass door out to our condo’s patio.

The four-bedroom condo was actually pretty nice. There were a workout room, a basketball court, and an indoor swimming pool on the premises, and the view of the river was gorgeous. It would have been a great little family vacation if we weren’t all being held prisoner.

“She tried to talk to the Elders for you. She was in with Elder Thomas all morning after you went to school, so don’t blame your mother for missing those tryouts.” Dad sounded as pissed as Mom, making me wonder if maybe they would have been happier if I’d just died in that pond last night so they wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.

Melodramatic much, Megan?

I sighed. “I’m sorry, I just . . . I just don’t understand why I couldn’t at least try out. It wasn’t fair to me or to Jess.”

Jess had been furious when I’d told her I wouldn’t be at tryouts because I was under house arrest. It was the first time in our friendship that I’d ever seen her so pissed at anyone, let alone me. She’d told me I was a selfish brat who only thought about herself and stormed away, refusing to talk to me for the rest of the day even though
she
was the one who had convinced me to sneak out in the first place.

Okay, so that wasn’t really true. She’d wanted me to ask my parents for a ride. It had been my bright idea to head off to the bonfire without asking.

“Megan,” Dad said, “you are not like other kids. You never have been and you never will be. That may not be fair, but that’s your life. It’s time to grow up and get used to it and take responsibility for your own mistakes.”

“I know Dad but I—”

“But nothing. Last night was the second time in five years I’ve almost lost you because you weren’t taking your responsibilities as a Settler seriously. My heart can’t take much more, and neither can your mother’s.”

“I’m sorry.” Now I really felt bad. I’d never really thought how scary it must have been for my parents to get that call last night.

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough.” He sighed and ran his hand through his hair, making me notice how much of it had started to go gray. That was probably all my fault too. “If you’re finished with supper, please go to your room. I’ll go talk to Mom.”

“Okay.” Well, at least he had said
please
, even though I could tell he was still mad.

I trudged toward “my” room—the condo’s flower-print bedroom only had two twin beds and a child-size vanity for furniture, but at least it had a private bathroom—feeling even lower than I had a few minutes ago. For the first time in my life, I suspected I was on my way to being flat-out depressed. Like, clinically.

Barker tailed me all the way to the door of my room, where Smythe met up with us. Thankfully, however, they let me go inside alone, so I was by myself when my cell began to vibrate in my back pocket.

Jess! Thank. God.

I dashed into the bathroom and turned on the shower before I flipped open the phone, hoping the sound of running water would afford me a little privacy. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Jess said, still sounding weird. But then, I hadn’t expected to be forgiven without at least a little more groveling.

“Listen, Jess, I just want to tell you again how sorry I am. I begged my mom to let me try out with you so our fourth routine wouldn’t be messed up, but she—”

“Don’t worry about it, Meg. Tryouts finished up about twenty minutes ago and I’m pretty sure I made the team. I didn’t mess up a single time.”

“That’s great! I’m so happy for you.” And I was, even though I was still feeling rather sad for myself. “Hopefully some day I’ll get ungrounded and I can come watch you perform.”

“So you’re
for sure
grounded?”

“Yeah, for like the rest of my life, probably.” I sighed as I plopped down on the fuzzy toilet lid. It was bright pink, like everything else in the bathroom. I
hated
pink. This bathroom was totally adding insult to my injury.

“That really, really sucks.” She paused, and I could practically hear the wheels turning. Something was bothering her, but in typical Jess fashion, she wasn’t going to come straight out and say it. “But . . . you’re at home, right?”

“Um . . . right?” I was such a bad liar. That wasn’t supposed to come out as a question!

“Well, since when do your parents let you have people over when you’re grounded?”

“What? There’s no one—”

“I just saw Monica going into your house on my way home.”

“You did?” Holy crap, why would she be sneaking into my house when she knew my entire family had been sent to the SA compound?

“Yes, I did.” Jess’s voice left no doubt she was
pissed
and thought I was a big, fat liar. “And she not only went in, but she came out and put of bunch of your clothes in her car before going back inside again. Since when are you and the Monicster BFFs? I can’t believe you loaned her your stuff, especially that new sundress. You wouldn’t even let
me
borrow it.”

“She had my clothes?” I asked, a horrible suspicion rising at the back of my mind. There was only one reason she would want my clothes bad enough to break into my house and steal them.

She was going to use them as totems to summon the undead.

“Yes, she did. Will you stop lying to me? I can’t believe—”

“I’m not lying—I mean, I don’t—I mean—God!”

I’d had enough of this. I had to tell Jess the truth. The words started pouring out of me before I could even think twice, a stream of verbal diarrhea that had obviously been building inside me for a
long
time. Fifteen minutes later Jess finally got a word in edgewise. “So, you raise dead people from their graves?”

“No, I put the dead people back in their graves after they raise themselves,” I said. “Well, lately I’ve also been sending them back to the person who raised them with black magic.”

“Black magic? That’s like . . . real?” she asked, sounding understandably freaked.

“Yeah, it is . . . and I think Monica is in on what’s been going on.” It was freaky to say the words out loud, but it was the
only
explanation for her stealing my clothes. “You’ve got to go spy on her, Jess. My family is being held hostage at this Settler secret hideout. So it’s up to you to find out what she’s doing in our house and—”

“But she’s not there anymore.”

“What? I thought you said you—”

“I saw her go in after she dumped the clothes, but then she left about twenty minutes later,” she said, sounding bummed that she wasn’t going to be going on spy duty. Who would have guessed Jess had an inner secret agent just waiting to burst free?

“Crap,” I said, rising to pace around the bathroom. “Did you see which direction she went?”

“Not really. But Megan, if you have this big secret society out there, why don’t you just tell someone what I saw? Won’t they track Monica down?”

“I don’t know.” A part of me was tempted to throw open the door and tell Barker all, but I wasn’t even sure he’d believe me. “I’m not really high on the trustworthy list right now. And the thing about Monica . . . well, it’s complicated.” I couldn’t tell Jess about Monica being a Settler. Spilling my own secret was one thing, but spilling hers would be wrong.

Even if she’s been behind the plot to kill you? Hello? A clue? You need to get one.

“No, I don’t think anyone would believe me, Jess. The higher-ups already have someone in custody who they’re sure did it. Besides, Monica is a Settler too.”

“Wait a second. How many of you guys are there?”

I barreled on, knowing there was no time to play twenty questions. “She was also attacked by a black-magically raised corpse this week. So no one is going to believe she was raising zombies unless I have proof.” I quickly filled Jess in on the whole history of Settlers and how there had
never
been a Settler convicted of using black magic and that that was why no one had believed me when I told them I suspected Monica in the first place.

“You’re right. No one’s going to believe you.”

“Thanks.” My stomach cramped around my pork chop and couscous.

“But don’t worry—I’ve got an idea. I overheard Monica and London saying they were going to post the results of the tryouts tonight before they go to London’s to get ready for the dance.”

“What about the game? Don’t they have to—”

“The game got called off because Danderville had a bomb threat today.”

BOOK: You Are So Undead to Me

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