Page 138 of Bound By Fury

I swipe away the notification.

My stomach clenches with the urge to vomit. If Malachi is a hunter… what does that make Lucas? At the very least it seems clear that Malachi isn’t the only one who’s been lying to me.

In fact, there’s only one person I’m certain has told me the truth. There’s only one person who can help me. It’s late, but I call her anyway.

I listen to it ring and ring. When it goes to voicemail, I rest my head against the cool brick. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. How I’ve been doomed from the very moment I set foot back on this campus.

I call her again and push to standing, walking quickly through the cold, rainy night. When this call goes to voicemail, too, I break into a run, my old boots slamming against the concrete as I race to the front of the school.

FORTY-FIVE

MY BIKE TIRES SKID AGAINST the loose, wet pebbles at the end of Maureen’s driveway as I grip the brakes with both hands. Flinging my leg over, I toss it to the side, sloshing through the water puddling in front of the shadowed porch steps. At least the rain finally stopped.

Her house is set far back from the road and is hidden by a stretch of dense pine trees. The yard is pitch black, save for a few scattered stars that blink lazily, barely illuminating the sky.

In this moment I am two things. I am me, alone in the middle of the night. Terrified. Freezing. Buzzing with power that I don’t know how to use. But I am also nothing. No one. Floating above my body. Watching as this poor girl gets infinitely deeper into some alternate life where nothing makes sense.

I have a secret that isn’t a secret anymore, the boy I loved is designed to kill me, and my dead grandma’s girlfriend might be my only chance at survival. And to think that over the summer my biggest concern was whether or not I’d get a five on my AP Art portfolio.

The lights are off, but her car is in the driveway. My footsteps echo against the surrounding forest, underscoring the otherwise preternatural sort of quiet.

I picture my magic, no longer coiled at my core but unfurled and eager. I envision it wrapping around my arms as my knuckles barely graze the teal wood of the door. It creaks, slowly yawning open.

No. No. No. No. No.

“Maureen?”

Nothing.

“Maureen?” I call, louder this time.

Still no response.

I press trembling fingertips to the door, pushing it open farther. “Is anyone here?”

My heart is beating too fast. I turn, surveying the property, listening for any sign of another person. Anything to indicate I’m not alone out here. Again I’m met with silence. Pursing my lips, I slow my breathing as I take a tentative step over the threshold.

A disconcerting stillness.

Quietly I close the door behind me, pressing myself flush against it. I can barely breathe as I assess the entryway, squinting my eyes and willing them to adjust to the moonless dark.

Something worse than foreboding sings to me as I hesitantly inch forward, barely lifting my feet from the ground. My arms extend, my fingers splayed against the unknown. My whole body shakes as I feel my way through the house. I’m too afraid to speak, too afraid to call out again into this seemingly empty space. What if someone answers me? What if that someone isn’t Maureen?

My skin crawls with power. The wind howls outside now, the windows rattling against its force. I curse, jumping back a step when my hand brushes the long stem of a lamp. It wobbles, nearly tipping over, and I freeze, squeezing my eyes shut as it settles back into place. My feet slide onto the area rug as my gaze drifts through the room.

I consider turning on the lights, but if I’m not alone I don’t want to give myself away quite yet.

A sharp screech, like metal scraping against metal. A cascade of crashing items tumbling to the floor. Fear, ice cold, as I startle, slamming my hand against my mouth to stifle my yelp. Still, it slips around my fingers, and I cringe against it.

I can’t do this.

I don’t have a choice.

I turn toward the source of the noise at the back of the house.

“I—I have a weapon!” I force a bravado that rings hollow even to my own ears. “I-I don’t want to have to hurt you!”

I could hurt someone if it came down to it.