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  “Sure thing, kid.”

  I head for the door.

  “Hey, where you going?”

  “Uh, just out for a while. You won’t be back till this afternoon right?”

  “Yeah.” He kept his eyebrow raised, “But since when do you go out?”

  I roll my eyes at him before closing the door behind me.

  Chapter 23

  Jade

  I dream of drowning and red doors and dead things. It is not a restful night, but even with my nightmares, I hold onto the one tiny hope I am closer to answers. I have a name, a place and I hope, with the two, I will at least be pointed in the right direction.

  It’s almost eight in the morning and I know the library doesn’t open until 8:30am. I can take my time. As I sit up, I think about the girl in the mirror. I saw her before in a dream—she is one of the girls killed within the past month. Clara. One of the Etcher’s victims. A shiver creeps up my spine. She was decaying, rotting right behind me in the bathroom. I try blotting her image out of my mind. I can’t focus on that… I have to focus on answers. Maybe once I have those, I’ll understand all the dreams, the visions, the feelings.

  Knock, knock. It’s a soft sound.

  “Yeah, Nanan? Come in.”

  Nanan’s full figure appears in the doorway. “Oh good! You are awake. You have a visitor.” She says, smiling.

  I groan. I will die if it’s Dominic checking up on me. “Thanks.” I know it sounds harsh. As I walk by Nanan, I give her a kiss on the cheek before heading downstairs. It’s not her fault idiots dwell in the world. The frown is fixed on my face as I swing open the door.

  “Oh, Connor!”

  He looks at first surprised I acted as if I were expecting someone else, almost worried and then he looks content I am relieved to see him. “Hey, Jade. Can I talk to you?”

  “Oh yeah, sure.” I step outside and close the door behind me.

  “I just wanted to say sorry—“

  “What? Why are you saying sorry? I’m the one who woke you up in the middle of the night demanding a ride.” I feel terrible for causing his guilt. I see it all over him. He’s slumped forward even more than usual, his eyes cast down as if ashamed.

  “No, but, I—“

  “No, no, no.” I shake my head. “I need to apologize. I’m so sorry. I mean, I freaking hit you in the face with a rock.”

  That made his lips turn up in a small grin. “Yeah, you have a good arm. I’m surprised you didn’t break my window.”

  I put my hand on his cheek so I can see his face. He stiffens and I feel I crossed some boundary I wasn’t supposed to so I drop my hand to my side. I can’t read his expression as his shoulders relax back into their typical hunch. “It looks like you’ll survive.” I start for the porch steps. “I am actually on the way to the library.”

  “The library? On a Saturday? Aren’t you suspended?”

  “Yes, yes, and yes. I’m not going for school, I have some things I need to look up on the internet.”

  “Oh, I see.” He stands there, awkward.

  “Do you want to go with me?”

  He brightens, his face changing into something open and honest. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Well, don’t you sound excited about the library.”

  He fumbles a step. “Well, I…”

  “Bored?”

  “Uh, yeah, something like that.”

  “Okay, let’s go.”

  “Oh and I was coming by to let you know I can give you a ride to New Orleans next week, probably even on Monday.”

  I nod slowly. “Cool, I appreciate it. I’ll let you know if I need a ride.” I have no idea when the bookstore will be open. I also think it is better for me to go alone, but I don’t want to cut off any options.

  Connor looks confused. “It seemed pretty urgent last night…”

  “Oh, yeah, well…” I don’t want to tell him I went to New Orleans yesterday. I also don’t want to tell him Dominic gave me a ride home. I’m not quite sure why, but I feel like he would be disappointed in me and I don’t want him to feel that way.

  I glance over at him. He’s so slumped over he almost looks like a C shape. I fall in stride beside him, suddenly aware of his mass. I take in the details of his frame for the first time. He’s all earth tones: brown and gold. Not the extremes though, a mix of the colors so gradual, so blended, I can barely see the gold glimmer in his hair and the flecks of sun in his eyes. I jab two fingers into the place right under his shoulder blades.

  He flinches forward, arching his chest up and his back straight. He flashes me an accusatory look. “What the hell?”

  “Oh! You are tall! I could never tell with you hunched over like a decrepit old man. Question one: Why do you stand like that?”

  “Are you seriously criticizing my posture?”

  “Of course not. Why would I do that? Seeing as how sexy eighty-year olds are nowadays.” I grin.

  He starts to say something then swallows it. “I—don’t know.” He finally says.

  “Yes, you do.”

  “I don’t, uh, like to…”

  “Be noticed?”

  He’s quiet. It’s as if the truth is too shameful to admit aloud, but his silence confirms it.

  “You know, you never told me why you came here. And what are you doing living with Nanan?” He says suddenly, changing the subject. I already see him start to hunch again, but I let it go.

  The story unfolds in my head. It plays out in a choppy, bullet-point summary. I woke up in the woods with no memory of my past. I lived there lonely and afraid. I saw a dead girl in my woods. I had this treacherous urge to taste her blood, to break and destroy her. It scared me. I ran away. I hit the city and the lights slammed into me before sputtering away. I was pulled around the country by some strange magnetic force. It dragged me everywhere. The trail stopped in this little swampy town. I crumbled at a river dock, desperate and alone and then an angel—of the old, round variety—plopped down beside me smiling warmer than the sun itself and offered me a place to stay. Nanan. Now I am searching for a red door and a perhaps real, likely imagined, old man who will help me piece my world together.

  I am not about to repeat this story. “Short version. My parents are dead and my foster parents are horrible. I ran away, got tired of traveling, and though I was planning on just passing through on my way to New Orleans, Nanan saw me, chatted me up, and demanded a nice girl like myself must have a decent place to stay so she offered me a room in her house and I took it.”

  “Nice girl, huh?”

  “Absolutely.”

  He awkwardly reaches his arm behind his back, trying to rub at an unattainable spot. “I’ll remember that when I’m explaining this bruise on my back to my mom.”

  Chapter 24

  Connor

  The library, of course, is empty. No one in town would actually visit the library first thing in the morning on a Saturday, especially not two high school kids. Jade doesn’t seem to notice. She just asks for a computer number, sits at a table, and logs on.

  “So are you browsing? Or do you have an idea what you are looking for?”

  “I know exactly what I am looking for.” Her voice has a slight edge to it. As I glance at her, I see determination in the furrow of her brow.

  Her fingers tap on the keys as she types into the search engine.

  I look at the screen. “Oh, Crescent City Books? My dad mentioned it once.”

  Jade suddenly sits up straight and looks at me. “You’ve been there?”

  “No. My dad was. He said there’s this really, I dunno, eccentric old lady who runs it. Alathea, I think?”

  Jade mulls it over, staring at the screen, her eyebrows still pinched together. “So, you know about this lady? This Alathea?”

  “Not really. Just know she owns the store.”

  “That is where I need to go. I need to meet her.” Jade says, her voice serious.

  “Uh, okay. For what?” As soon as I say it, I see her narrow her eyes sli
ghtly and crinkle her nose. She doesn’t like me prying. “Well, let’s check the website. She keeps weird hours, I think.” Why had dad gone to see her? Research for an article? I couldn’t remember.

  I lean over the keyboard and type in the address into the browser. Dark, creepy music plays softly over the speakers as pictures of the store flash on the screen. I can barely believe the place has a website. The photos look like a cross between a voodoo and a new-age hippie shop. I click on the hours and, sure enough, there they are: SAT, SUN, MON, TUES: Closed. WED: 6-8pm. THURS: 1pm-12am. FRI: 5pm-7:30pm.

  “Wow, you were right. Those are weird hours.” Jade stares at the screen. “I can’t believe they won’t be open till Wednesday.” She sits back in the chair, disappointed.

  “Yeah, I think she goes out and does séances or tarot readings or something.”

  Jade nods as she writes down the hours and address on a piece of paper. She starts to scoot out before she stops and asks me, “Connor, if you see something written in another language and don’t know what language it is, can you, I don’t know, still find a way to translate it?”

  “Oh yeah, that’s easy.” I lean over again and type another address into the browser. “You can just type it here and it should pull up an answer. If there is more than one option then it usually just lets you pick.”

  She slowly nods and brings her fingers to the keyboard. For a second, I think I see the same vulnerable expression on her face I saw last night when she stood below my window. When I glance again, it’s gone and I wonder if I just imagined it.

  “Improbus es?” I ask, seeing the words in the search box. As soon as she clicks “send”, the answer appears. Jade sucks in her breath.

  “Jade, are you okay?”

  At first, she doesn’t respond. Then she relaxes and she smiles at me. “Okay. I’m all done. Let’s get out of here.”

  I raise an eyebrow before starting to stand up. “Latin, huh?” I look at the search results translated from Latin to English. “‘You are wicked?’ That’s morbid. Where did you see that?”

  “Oh, I just read it somewhere.” She shuffles to her feet and is nearly out the front door by the time I click off the computer.

  Chapter 25

  Jade

  I see the mirror’s message in my mind screaming at me.

  YOU ARE WICKED. YOU ARE WICKED. YOU ARE WICKED.

  It stabs into me repeatedly, cutting deeper. Evil? The phrase pounds into my skull until I hear it bounce around taunting me. After Connor tries to talk to me a couple times and I don’t really respond, he stops trying. We walk to his house in silence. I feel cold creeping up my fingers, a shadow trailing behind me.

  While Connor works on his truck, which, apparently, is what we are going to ride in to New Orleans next week, I sit on the grass, face to the sun. I like how it blinds me, warms me, almost burns me.

  “I hope it’s sunny at my funeral.” And if I really am wicked, I hope that day comes sooner rather than later.

  Connor’s wrench clattered to the driveway. “Uh, morbid, much?”

  “What?”

  “Most girls plan their weddings, not their funerals.”

  “Well, I’m not most girls am I? I’m also not girlfriend material, let alone marriage material.”

  “Why not?”

  I shrug, my shoulders heavy from the weight of the questions. “Too weird. Too much baggage.” I wink. “Too morbid.”

  “That doesn’t mean you’re…” he pauses. “You’re not girlfriend material.”

  “Just trust me on this one,” I say. “I’m not.” I don’t try to sound bitter, but an inkling of hurt edges my words and I wonder if Connor notices.

  “If you say so,” he says. “But I think that a lot of guys would like to date you.”

  “Like who?”

  “Like,” he shifts his weight as he stands in front of the engine. I feel my body tense for his response. I’m not sure why. “I dunno,” he says finally. “You’re funny. You’re smart. You’re p-pretty.” I see his face blush while he says that and he keeps his eyes intent on the engine. “And you don’t take crap from anyone.” He wipes some of the oil from his hand on his jeans.

  “That doesn’t mean anything.” I say. “Other than it just means that you’re a good liar.”

  He starts to protest, but I just plow through. “So, how long do you think it will take to get this truck up and running?”

  “I think with some work today and tomorrow, it should be good to go.”

  “Excellent.” I say, “So do you think we can go on Wednesday?”

  “Yeah, don’t see why not.”

  “Perfect.” I smile wide. More answers aren’t too far away. At least, I hope not.

  “So, um, Jade?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

  “Sure, will your family be around?”

  Connor rubs his brow. “Unfortunately.”

  “What are you talking about? They seem great.”

  “No, my mom is great. My uncles…” He shakes his head. “Are something else.”

  I smile. “I’d love to be part of your family dinner.”

  He glances at me with a sheepish smile on his face and nods. “Great.”

  I hear a car drive up and look down the driveway to see an old, blue Honda making its way toward us.

  “Oh, that’s my mom.”

  I stand up from the grass.

  As she parks, Connor makes his way to the car and opens the door for her.

  She’s beautiful. Golden curls, warm skin, and a gorgeous smile. She could be a bit of sunshine all on her own. “Hey, sweetheart.” She kisses Connor’s forehead as he leans down to give her a hug.

  They embrace for a moment, a long moment, as if they are clinging to each other, as if every moment is precious. It ignites something inside me, warms me from the inside out and I feel my breath hitch.

  Connor’s mom pulls away from him and she gives me smile. “So, Connor, who is this lovely lady?” I can’t help but smile at her calling me “lovely.” It almost feels true when she says it.

  Connor motions to me. “This is Jade. She’s new at school. And, Jade, this is my mom.”

  I step forward and reach to shake her hand. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Mrs. Devereaux.”

  She pushes my hand aside and wraps me up in a hug. “Oh, hon. Just call me Desi.”

  “So I hear you got my boy to start working on this old truck?” She says, placing a hand on the peeling paint. “I’m impressed. I thought this thing was going to become front lawn decoration.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  “No problem, love.” She kisses his forehead again. Looking back at me she asks, “My boy asked you to stay for dinner, right?”

  “Oh, yes. Is that fine?”

  “Absolutely. We rarely get to meet Connor’s friends. I’m so happy you can stay.” Desi looks at Connor. “And don’t you worry. I’ll tell the boys to behave themselves.”

  “That doesn’t guarantee anything.”

  She laughs. “Sure doesn’t. But it’s worth a try.”

  Chapter 26

  Connor

  Jade and I wash up when I hear the screen door open. I usually like how loud they are, how when they came into the house for dinner, I hear them from anywhere in the house. But today, it just sets me on edge and I brace myself. Jade touches my arm, concern on her face, “Are you okay?”

  I jerk away without thinking. Her hand is so warm and soft. I want her to touch me again, but it would be awkward now. “Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” I look up just as Jesse enters the kitchen. He is drinking a beer, but as he tips his head forward and catches sight of Jade, he ends up dribbling some of the beer on his chin and shirt. I stifle a laugh. Jesse seems like he is never going to be used to Jade being around, and it makes me smile that at least one other person makes a fool of himself in front of her.

  “Oh, uh, hi.” He sputters.

  “Hi.” Jade smiles.

&nbs
p; “Hey Jesse, you got some beer on your chin.”

  Jesse eyes me as he wipes his mouth. Harry and Wade both file in after him. Both look at Jade, to me, and then back to Jade.

  “Company again, eh, Connor?” Wade says, smirking. He is the one I am worried most about, for good reason.

  “Nice to see you again, dear. Jade, was it?” I don’t worry at all about Harry. Also, for good reason.

  “Nice to see you too!” Jade reaches to shake their hands.

  “Are you staying for dinner?” Harry asks.

  “Yes, Desi and Connor invited me.” She says, “I hope that’s fine with you all. I don’t want to intrude on your family dinner.”

  “Nonsense. It’s lovely to have you.” Harry says, “Right boys?”

  Both smile and nod and mumble uh-huhs.

  “Thanks.” Jade smiles and goes back to finish washing her hands.

  “Dinner is on the table everyone!” Mom calls from the dining room and we all file in. I take a deep breath before showing Jade to a seat. Here we go.

  Dinner goes well. In fact, I am surprised at how smooth it carries on. All that’s left is dessert and I can’t imagine the past hour being ruined in fifteen minutes.

  “Give me some of that sweetness, sugar.” Wade bangs his fork on the plate. Maybe I’m wrong. I’m surrounded by savages.

  “Sure, Darlin’.” Mom pulls out a spatula and begins carving out a slice of the apple pie. “There is nothing as sweet as apple pie,” she pauses while she deposits a piece of pie on Wade’s plate, “apple pie and Eskimo kisses.” She smiles. Mom and Dad always gave each other Eskimo kisses when they made up after a fight. Then, it seemed ridiculous, now it’s a prized memory.

  “Eskimo kisses?” I look up at Jade’s question. She looks confused.

  “Eskimo kisses.” Mom declares happily.

  Jade pinches her eyebrows together, “What’s different about how Eskimos kiss?”