“It’s not done yet, Xandra.”
“You’re the one who told me there was nothing I could do about the Anathema, nothing anyone could do. You did the research.”
“I know. But those are just old books. What do they know?”
I stare at her, my mouth open and eyes wide. “Okay, who are you and what have you done with Lily?” My best friend is a historian through and through, one whose powers are linked to her constant quest for knowledge. Currently working on her PhD in ancient symbols, she all but worships books, and we both know it.
“I’m serious,” she tells me. “Yes, in the past, no one’s managed to undo an Anathema like this. But then, there’s no proof that it’s ever been used on people with the kind of power you and Declan have. You’re the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter of the most powerful priestess who ever lived. You have more talent, more magic, in your blood than anyone else living today. And Declan . . . Well, he’s just Declan. He can do anything. Who says he can’t do this, too?”
“Don’t.” I get off the couch and cross to the window. Stare outside where it’s starting to rain yet again. With the gray sky and grayer clouds, it looks almost as dark and bleak as I feel. “Please, don’t give me false hope. I can’t take it.”
“It’s not false if there’s a chance.”
“But there isn’t.”
“There could be.” She sighs gustily. “Are you feeling weaker? Is Declan?”
“No, of course not, but that’s the whole point. When we’re near each other, being soulbound amplifies our power right up until—”
“No until. So your magic is good and so is Declan’s. How about your soul? Do you feel like it’s fracturing?”
“I told you about the darkness last night.”
“How do you know that wasn’t just you? After what they did to you, you have every reason to want Councilors dead. Maybe that’s what you were feeling.”
“And maybe pigs can fly.” But she’s got me thinking, hoping. Which is somehow a million times more painful than accepting.
“Well, how do you feel now? Do you feel dark? Broken?”
“I feel exhausted.”
“Of course you do. But that’s not the same thing.”
“What about Declan, Lily? There’s so much darkness in him already. And now, with this revenge thing, it’s just getting worse. But is that because of his anger or because of me? Does he have a handle on it or is it spinning out of control because of our connection? I can’t tell the difference. The only thing I do know for certain is that he won’t tell me if he’s in trouble.”
“So what? Are you going to spend your life waiting for shit to happen? Like that chicken?”
I turn to stare at her. “What chicken?”
“You know, the one with the sky. She ran around screaming that it was falling, except it wasn’t. It was an acorn or something.”
“Are you talking about Chicken Little?”
“Yes! Chicken Little. She wasted her life worrying that the sky was going to fall. Don’t be Chicken Little.”
“Lily?”
“Yeah?” She looks so proud of herself that I almost hate to burst her bubble.
“In the end of that story, they all died.”
“They did?”
“Yep. A fox ate them all because they were so worried about the sky falling, they forgot to be afraid of him.”
“Are you sure?”
I nod. “Pretty sure.”
“Well, fuck. That didn’t turn out the way I thought it would. Stupid chicken.” She thinks for a second, then reaches for the doughnut bag. “Well, if the sky really is going to fall, you might as well load up on fat and sugar.”
I laugh because the alternative is crying and I’ve already done enough of that to last a lifetime. Then I decide what the hell. I take the bag and scarf down a couple more doughnuts.
Lily joins me and soon the entire bag is empty. Now I’m feeling even sicker but for totally different reasons. I’m not sure if that’s better or worse.
Pushing back from the table with a sigh, I say, “I need to get going. Travis will only hold down the fort so long before freaking out.”
Lily stands up as well. But it’s obvious her mind is a million miles away. I’m halfway down the hallway to my room before she speaks. “He hasn’t killed anyone, you know.”
I don’t pretend to misunderstand. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do. And so would you if you’d just let yourself believe what’s right in front of your face.”
She’s right. I know Declan hasn’t gone that far into the darkness. At least not yet. “That doesn’t mean he won’t.”
“But he hasn’t yet. He’s holding on. And that means you have to as well. If you can’t hold on to anything else, hold on to that. Hold on to him.”
I nod, because she’s right. I have enough trouble in my life right now without borrowing more. Declan’s taking things one day at a time with me. It’s about time I do the same with him.
Fifteen
I’ve just pulled into the back parking lot at Beanz when it hits me. Half in the car, half out of the car, I feel the world starting to spin around me. I sink back into my car seat and try to figure out what the hell is going on. And then it’s too late. The damn blackness sweeps over me before I can even begin to fight it.
Xandra! It’s Shelby’s voice and she’s screaming my name, her little hands reaching for me as tears pour down her face.
I’m here, Shelby.
Where did you go? You were gone for such a long time.
I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m here now.
Don’t leave me, Xandra. Please don’t leave me here alone! Not again.
I’ll try not to. I promise. I only hope I can keep that promise. This connection with Shelby is different from the compulsions, different from the way I slip inside the victim and experience what he or she experiences. With Shelby, I’ve done that, but more often than not it’s this strange voyeuristic thing, where I’m looking at her instead of looking out at the world through her eyes.
I try to glance around the room, to pick up some clues about where she is or who might have her. But I can’t see anything but her, can’t feel anything but her. It’s like she’s in a vacuum—one I can’t hope to breach.
Tell me where you are, Shelby. Give me some clue and we’ll come find you right now.
I’m scared. She’s mean.
She? It’s a woman who has you?
Yes. And a man. He’s mean, but she’s worse. She tries to act like she’s nice, like if I do what she says, she won’t hurt me. But I don’t believe her. She has really mean eyes.
Good. Don’t believe her, Shelby.
I want my mommy.
I know you do, baby. Can you look around the room? Or tell me what you see out the window? I know it’s high, but maybe there’s something out there—
Suddenly, I’m no longer in my car, no longer in the parking lot at all. Instead, I’m in that dingy little room, with the skinny cot and threadbare blanket and tiny window close to the ceiling. It lets in a little light, but not much—especially on a grim-looking day like today. I can’t see much more than the plain white walls, the dark wood floor.
And Shelby. I can see Shelby, though she isn’t talking to me anymore.
I can see her face clearly despite the dim light. Her pretty face has lost its color. The small smattering of freckles on the bridge of her nose stands out in startling contrast against her pale skin. Her eyes are dim, unfocused, and she’s no longer squirming. No longer crying. No longer doing anything but staring sightlessly toward the center of the room.