I took another few moments to hurl. When I was finished I was shaking, and cold sweat ran in rivulets down my back. My forehead positively glistened. I took a deep breath, and the room began to spin. Not good. I cleaned up again, swirled enough Listerine to get me a little buzzed, and dug through the medicine cabinet and under the sink. Success! I tugged out the first aid kit, swallowed a handful of aspirin, and wrapped my Fangoria hand in a long roll of Ace bandages.
Wrapping the fingers was the worst part. Every tiny motion, every rasp of skin against bandage sent a wave of misery rolling up my entire body.
I went downstairs, not surprised to see the party clearing out. The crowd had thinned to mostly my friends and a few stragglers. Benny sat on the couch as Sara and Morgan attended to him. He looked thrashed—most of his face was swollen and badly cut up, and the hand cradling his ribs told me he’d probably taken a hard hit there as well. Zack stood above them all, his arms crossed, his eyes going between Benny, the door, and the ground.
Daphne stood in the corner with a catatonic-looking Wanda. Wanda had been wrapped in some guy’s huge puffy coat, and she hugged herself and stared off serenely at some phantom landscape. Daphne whispered in low tones to some senior guy I didn’t recognize, and he looked both annoyed and compliant. Daphne had that effect on people.
I didn’t make it three steps before Zack caught sight of me. He ran to meet me at the foot of the stairs, and despite everything, I smiled. Stupid hero idiot.
“Are you okay, Luce? Sara said—”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Just got a little crowd-stomped. It looked worse than it was.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sara look up in stark disbelief. I waved my bandaged hand at her and tried to ignore the searing flashes caused by the sudden movement. She frowned but went back to patching up Benny.
Zack didn’t look convinced either.
“Mind if I see it?”
I frowned. “Yes, I do. A lady has some secrets, you know.”
“Wounds are not secrets.”
“Well…mine are,” I said. “Take it or leave it.”
The witty banter was really pushing my concentration. Mostly I wanted to ralph again or lie down and pass out. The pain, much to my chagrin, was getting worse, and harder to think past. That and my knees shook with every step. How bad was shock? I couldn’t remember if shock could actually kill you. Then again, could I even be killed? I moaned to myself and pushed that entangling thought away.
“You don’t look—” he began.
“Zack. Watch it.”
“I mean, you look lovely. Just like a lovely person…who needs to go the hospital.”
I smirked. “Thanks?”
Zack sighed, and his forehead wrinkled up. I took the last few steps down the stairs, and I don’t know if it was the weird night, the shock, or the Listerine, but I folded myself into his arms and rested my head on his chest. For a terrifying moment he didn’t move, and I sucked in a slow shallow breath that just might precede shameful weeping. Not enough breath to do my mind-peeking trick, I noticed distantly. Before I could embarrass myself anymore, however, he slipped his arms across my back and pulled me in closer.
Heaven. No question. He smelled like…I don’t even know. But it was wonderful, masculine and natural. The warmth of his chest made me shiver. He dragged his fingers through my hair, and I let out the most contented sigh of my whole life.
I didn’t expect it to last long, and the universe made sure to grant my wish. He held me close to him as Daphne and her senior friend took Wanda away. I wanted to say something to her, but I didn’t think I had words for it. And I didn’t think she had ears for it. It looked like I could have told her she’d won the lottery and her face wouldn’t twitch. In that moment, I wanted to end Tyler’s life.
As time spun out like taffy in Zack’s arms, I drifted away—let myself wander.
Three light taps on the front door woke me up. I felt Zack tense against me.
“Did anyone call the cops?” I heard Benny mumble from the couch.
“I don’t think so,” Zack said.
Sara, closest to the door, moved cautiously to the peep hole. She put her face against it, pulled away, and then checked again. Three light taps rang out again.
“It’s some…weird looking guy.”
I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Morgan glanced up at me from the couch, and we exchanged what could only be described as an oh crap look. We’d completely forgotten about Puck. Still, was I really ready to out myself in front of all of my friends?
No.
“Morgan…could you—”
“Yeah,” Morgan said, and stood up. “It’s just my…uncle. He gave me the ride. Luce, come say hi. He hasn’t seen you in forever.”
I raised my eyebrows. Morgan Veers—super-spy.
“Are you gonna leave?” Benny asked through swollen lips.
“No,” Morgan said, and flashed a dazzling smile. God she deserved an Oscar. “He’s probably just worried. I’ll explain the, uh, sudden exodus and be right back.”
Benny nodded and closed his eyes. Tyler had really painted a masterpiece on Benny’s face. I replayed the image of Zack throwing Tyler across the room with smug satisfaction. Then I remembered the second time Tyler had been thrown—the end of the fight. Had Zack thrown him that time? It didn’t look like it.
“Luce?”
I nodded to Morgan, and smiled up at Zack. He let me go with a reluctance I found, forgive me, delicious. I followed Morgan across the room and out the door. Sara’s skeptical look at my trailing, bandaged hand didn’t escape my notice.
When Morgan opened the door, I didn’t immediately see Puck. Still, I doubt he wanted to be spotted by the whole party. We walked outside and closed the door.
“Puck?” I whispered, eyes trying to pierce the gloom around the porch.
“Do you see him?” Morgan asked. I shook my head.
My phone buzzed in my purse. I reached down to get it.
Then it hit me. That sudden, all too familiar wave of incredible panic. Too close to stop, too close to react.
The man-in-white came around the side of the porch. His long white doctor’s coat hung from his shoulders, and the look on his sharp features was calm. Calculating, even. And struggling in his arms, the man-in-white’s elbow wrapped around his neck, was Puck.
My stomach sank. Morgan gasped—something I didn’t even have the breath for.
“It’s time,” the man said. He seemed to hold Puck effortlessly, despite his squirming. Puck’s eyes were wide, his face twisted in terror. It made the jovial old man look almost unrecognizable.
“Stop,” I said, and took a step down the porch. “Please, stop!”
The man nodded.
“You have to come with me, Lucy.”
“To hell with that,” Morgan said. She jumped down the porch steps and landed next to me. “Who the hell are you?”
He ignored Morgan. His eyes never left mine.
“It’s time to leave…all of this, Lucy.”
“Why?” I asked. My voice was breaking, I couldn’t help it. “Just leave me alone. Let me stay. I’m not a bad person.”
“You aren’t a person,” the man said. He sounded sad.
“Lucy—” Morgan began.
The man in white’s voice raised in what sounded like real anger. “You take what isn’t yours. The memories of real people…you’re taking their happiness, Lucy. Their pain, their sadness, their glee, their lust, and joy. You are the worst kind of thief, don’t you understand?”
Puck was moving, struggling against the man’s grip, but barely budging.