“She’s here, dammit!” Peter’s arms shot out. I gasped. He tried to grab Dad’s forearms, but Dad’s fists fastened to the man’s shirt and he shoved him against the sidelight.
My heart raced. Krissy’s dad let out a muscle-ripping growl, his eyes blackening with hate. Albert’s ghosted image lifted in and out of the enraged man, Albert himself caught up in the attack. Peter’s arms reached, flailed, but could not adhere to Dad’s flesh and bone. My hand covered my mouth, stifling a scream.
With surprising ease and total control, Dad held Peter against the sidelight.
Upstairs, Mom appeared, staring with wide eyes from the balcony.
“I think you should go,” Dad said between clenched teeth. He released the man and his hands slowly dropped to his sides.
Krissy’s dad panted. “If I find that your daughter has lied, you’ll both answer to me,” he boomed.
“Is that a threat?” Dad’s voice rose. His hands fisted.
I joined him, and touched his stiff arm. “Dad, he’s not worth it.” I’m talking to you, Albert. What did it matter? Albert couldn’t hear my thoughts.
“I’ve got half the Pleasant Grove police force out searching for her!
You’d better not be lying to me.”
“Don’t come to my home and threaten my family,” Dad snapped, stepping closer to Krissy’s dad.
My hand tightened around his arm. “Don’t. He’s dangerous.”
“You damned well better believe I’m dangerous,” Peter seethed. “If it wasn’t for you and your partying friends, she’d be at home. Now, I’ve got social services breathing down my neck!”
“I had nothing to do with Krissy’s party,” I shouted. “I tried to talk her out of it!” What was I doing, arguing with this whack-case?
I pulled Dad’s sleeve, but he resisted. “Go. Now,” he said, reaching for the door. He started to close it, but Peter slapped a palm against the wood with a thunk.
“If you see her, you tell her to call me immediately.”
Dad slammed the door. “For a minute I thought there would be blood.”
“What in the world?” Mom’s voice was breathless coming between her fingers poised over her mouth.
“The weirdo,” I muttered, glad he and Albert were gone.
Dad dragged his fingers down his face, leaving white stripes over taut skin. “What a day.”
“Yeah.” Between the funeral, Krissy, her dad and Albert, my body and brain overflowed with stimulation. I needed sleep, and the urgency sunk into my being with the weight of lead.
Dad glanced upstairs. His tight features softened when he saw Mom.
Then his green eyes met mine. “Have you seen Krissy tonight?”
I swallowed a lump, nodded.
“You must have a good reason for not mentioning that to her father.”
“Yeah. She came here upset, said she couldn’t go home. Something’s up but she won’t say what it is.”
“Where is she?” Dad glanced around.
“Not sure. She left right before her dad came.”
“Well,” Dad sighed. “At least we weren’t lying to the man then. We didn’t know where she was. If you do see or hear from her though, Zoe, tell her to call her dad. Let’s avoid any complications. That guy is dangerous.”
He started upstairs, wearily taking them one sluggish step at a time.
Abria, dressed in my old Friends t- shirt raced from her bedroom to Mom and Dad’s bedroom with Luke chasing after her. Mom met Dad on the landing. Mom stopped, so did he, and their eyes spoke a silent message that brought another wave of fear through my chest. Would they argue again?
Abria giggled from inside their bedroom. Luke’s frustrated tone followed,
“Time for bed, Abria.”
I went out the front door with my soul weary, closing it behind me, and jogged to Luke’s car. A soft glow of light radiated from the backseat—the illumination surrounding Krissy’s guardian. Krissy lay in the passenger seat, the chair reclined. She jumped when she saw me. I opened the door and got in. I wanted to say something to him. My eyes connected with his and he gave me an acknowledging nod. I barely nodded back, so as to not draw Krissy’s attention to the fact that I was communicating with someone she couldn’t see.
“My dad’s gonna kill me,” she stuttered out a plume of white breath in the chilled air.
I held out my hand for the keys and she plopped them into my palm.
“Why is he so mad?” I turned the engine. “Is it still about the party? I mean, I understand. But he has to believe that Brady made his own choice that night.”
Krissy shifted her gaze out the window, the blue light of the moon casting cobalt ice over her frightened face. I cranked the knob on the heater to high and cold air blew, throwing my body into a fit of shudders.
I pulled the car onto the street and headed toward Krissy’s. She remained silent. I glanced through the rearview mirror at her guardian. “It’s going to be okay,” I told her. “You’re not alone—”
“Right.”
“I’m serious. You have me and Luke and Chase.”
Tears slid down her cheeks, glistening tracks in the moonlight.
“I’m in serious trouble, Zoe.” Her voice was tattered.
“Everything will work out, you’ll see.” I hated it when Mom and Dad told me that, and here I was saying the same thing. But I honestly believed everything would now. I understood that our human efforts were not solitary in this life.
“The thing is,” she sniffed, faced me. “I’m not sorry I had the party.
I wanted to do it. And it was cool, you know? It’s just that I shouldn’t have dared Brady.”
“Even if you dared Brady, he didn’t have to take you up on it. And he and Britt brought the alcohol. They gave you the weed.”
“Which I didn’t have to take,” she said.
“You’re right. We all make mistakes.” I glanced at her guardian in the mirror, our eyes meeting. His kind smile soothed me. “And we all learn from them. Just don’t get all hopeless on me, okay?” Was he here because she was going to try to hurt herself again?
“Thanks,” she whispered. Our eyes met, then I focused on the road again. How can I comfort her? How can I make her see that we all make dumb choices but nothing is unfixable?
“You sure there isn’t something I can do?” I asked.
She shook her head.
“Call me any time. I mean it.”
“That’s what Luke said,” she sniffed. “He’s a nice guy, isn’t he?”
I nodded. “I’m glad he found you tonight.” With a father as seemingly controlling as hers, was she aware of the inherent dangers of hitchhiking?
“Yeah.”
I drove onto her street and she sat up, her hands wringing in her lap.
White fear turned her face stony.
The street was quiet. When we neared her round house, I didn’t see any police cars as I expected. One light shown through a white, pull-down shade upstairs.
“You’d better let me off here. I don’t want him to see your car.”
“Luke’s car is not exactly anonymous,” I joked, hoping to see her smile.
Her wide-eyed gaze was too focused on her home to notice my jesting tone.
I stopped six houses down from hers and she opened the door with a shaky hand. She got out, and her guardian was already behind her, his ivory light softly ebbing comfort into the night air around them.
He smiled at me, nodded. “Thank you.”
Had I done enough? My soul reached out to her in such a way I nearly leapt from the car to walk alongside her. “You sure you want to do this?” I asked. Krissy peered at me, her brows drawn in a hard line across her forehead.
“There are places you can go, Krissy. Safe houses. If you want, I can help you—”
“No.” She shook her head. “That’ll make things worse. I’ve got to go.
Bye, Zoe.” She shut the door and headed in the direction of the round, wood house.
r />
I remained in the idling Samurai. Whatever Krissy faced, I took some relief from the fact that her guardian was by her side. I could also make an anonymous call to Child Services. Better to be safe than sorry, Mom always said. I watched Krissy walk in a bubble of light, her guardian by her side.
Once I shut the front door of home, I rested my back against the smooth wood and let out a sigh. Peace, at last. My bones felt leaden beneath weary muscle and flesh. I couldn’t wait to hit the mattress. I’d only been gone fifteen minutes at most, and the lights still burned on the main floor. A scattered few shone upstairs.
Mom and Dad’s voices jagged out from beneath their closed bedroom door. My heart picked up speed. The foreboding I thought had gone with Krissy’s dad was back.
I looked left into the darkness of the living room. Empty. Right—into Dad’s office. Empty. Heart hammering, I crept through the arched hall that lead to the family room and kitchen. Nothing. The idea that Albert had taken residency in my home terrified me. But then, Matthias had warned me that life would be difficult. That Albert would be relentless in his pursuit of my soul.
I headed upstairs, passing Luke’s bedroom. His door was open and I peered in, found him standing just inside, staring out into the dark hall in the direction of the master bedroom.
“How long have they been arguing?” I whispered.
He joined me in the doorway. “Since you left. I hate this.”
And because Mom and Dad rarely fought, their arguments brought everyone in the house to a standstill—everyone except Abria of course. Light gleamed beneath her bedroom door and I heard her prattling inside.
“Did something happen to start it?” I asked Luke.
He shrugged. “I put Abria to bed and the two of them were in there going at it. I heard some stuff, but, you know… I didn’t stay and listen.”
Darkness pulled me in the direction of their bedroom. Splintering fear shot through my body. I reached for the doorknob.
“What’re you doing?” Luke whispered, following me.
I held my hand up to silence him. Luke still didn’t know I could see evil. Now wasn’t the time to drop that bomb. I wanted to help my parents if I could, as carefully as I could.
Dad’s voice was low and hard, mixing with Mom’s high pitch, the two tones reeking of sarcasm, and snapping with ugliness, specific words muffled through the closed door. Flushed with fear and frustration, I blew out a breath, turned on my heel and marched to Abria’s room.
“I just put her to bed, don’t wake her,” Luke hissed over my shoulder.
We both knew putting Abria to bed didn’t mean she actually went to sleep. I opened her door.
Abria jumped on the bed like a gymnast, glee on her face. Matthias stood ready to catch her.
My breath caught at the sight of him: radiant purity. A vision of beauty and peace that stilled my worried soul and lifted me on eyesight.
Behind me, Luke stuttered, “Oh, wow…it’s him.”
Luke’s milk-white face and open mouth reminded me that he still wasn’t used to seeing Matthias. At least he hadn’t passed out like the last two times he saw him. I tugged Luke through the door, shut it and faced the man I loved.
“Zoe.” Matthias smiled.
“Hey.” I didn’t care that my voice sounded insipidly happy to see him.
You’re beautiful, I thought knowing full well Matthias would overhear. My love for him was no secret. I feel so much better knowing you’re here.
That’s why I came.
Abria giggled, jumping higher. And higher. Her head nearly hit the ceiling. Matthias swept her into his arms and hugged her. “You little monkey.
Careful.”
“Man, this is so wild,” Luke murmured.
“Plenty wild,” Matthias said, tapping Abria on the tip of her nose.
“Wild little monkey.”
“Monkey,” Abria said, clear and crisp.
Luke and I exchanged glances of surprise. Any time Abria spoke coherently was a time to celebrate; most of her communications a garbled mess of sounds without clarity. Matthias’ touch not only comforted me and Luke, but from Abria’s consistent reaction to being in his presence, something about him loosened Abria’s tongue, enabling her to speak.
I almost forgot why I was there. This time, I’d get rid of Albert by myself.
I headed for the door. Matthias blocked it. How he moved so fast was part of the miracle of who he was. I didn’t question or doubt, but was still amazed by his angelic powers. His clear blue eyes looked earnestly into mine.
You weren’t kidding when you said Albert was relentless.
Matthias nodded. He is powerful and dangerous.
“I know. But I got rid of him twice already. I can do it again.”
“Bearcat.” The corner of his lip lifted.
Tempted as I was to let him kick his father out, I didn’t want Albert thinking I was a pushover. I had respect for forces both evil and good, but I relished the opportunity to force Albert out of our house. Even knowing he’d come back.
“Where are you going?” Luke eyed me.
I opened the door. “To kick some seriously wicked butt.”
I took off down the hall, adrenaline pulsing courage through my veins.
“Can she do that?” Luke’s query brought a grin to my lips in spite of the fear jangling my nerves at the thought of confronting Albert.
“She’s a sassy little sheba,” Matthias replied. “She can do anything she wants.”
Exactly.
My parent’s voices boomed from behind the closed door, like an angry pianist taking his frustration out on the keys, inharmonious chords belting into the air.
“We trusted her!” Mom.
“We can’t be sure she’s still drinking.” My heart plummeted to my feet.
They were talking about me.
I came to an abrupt halt. Why didn’t Mom trust me? How could they think I was still drinking? I thought we were miles past that.
“I can look at her and tell you she’s on something,” Mom hissed.
I thrust open the door. Mom and Dad stood facing each other at the foot of their four-poster bed. Mom’s arms were crossed tight over her chest; Dad’s hands set immobile on his hips. Albert lay in the middle of their bed propped on his side, as if watching a sick reality show on TV. A grin split his lips upward. Every frustrated, confused thought I had about my parents’
perception of me flew out of my system at the sight of him.
The instant I entered the room, his grin widened. “What? No Abria?”
My speeding heart caught on my breath. I ignored him.
“Zoe!” Dad’s body tensed. “Your mother and I are in the middle of—”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I dug deep for the calm I’d felt seconds ago in Matthias’ presence. “I heard you guys arguing. I wanted to help.”
“You don’t barge into a private conversation, I don’t care how much you want to help. You knock first,” Dad boiled.
“Okay, you’re right. Sorry.”
Their taut faces stirred with wariness, unasked questions and frustration.
“I know I’ve been acting weird lately,” I said, stepping forward. “I need to tell you something.”
Albert shifted on the bed.
Fear flashed on Mom and Dad’s faces. As if their minds raced with the worst news, a truth they hoped had only been yet another nightmare neither wanted to experience over again their bodies seemed to brace.
The mood in the room had a definitive shift from high burn to rolling boil. “I’m not drinking.”
Mom folded her arms over her chest. “You were listening to us?”
“I couldn’t help it, you guys were yelling.”
“Since when is it okay for you to listen at our—”
“Let her say what she wants to say, Debbie.”
Mom’s eyes blazed. She stiffened, arms tightening across her chest.
I took a deep breath. Noticed that Albert’s brows no
w drew in a line across his face. The day had been long, rough and it seemed as though conflicts would never end.
“I’m not sure why you think I’m drinking again, but—”
“How about the fact that you randomly talk to yourself,” Mom said.