“Yeah,” I bit out. “Well, hopefully I’ll grow out if it instead of taking off to Hawaii with some jerk and leaving my family behind.”
Her expression only grew colder before she left without another word.
Well, look at that. I guess I wasn’t over it after all.
It wasn’t as if my words had even hurt her, though. Didn’t she feel the least bit guilty about what she did? Or did she think two weeks was all the time we needed to heal ourselves back to a normal family?
I spent the next couple of hours pacing. Waiting. And reading the journal pages over again, hoping to glean something new from them, and wishing I had the entire thing. But maybe that wouldn’t help me any more than this did.
Finally, at four o’clock, I took a deep breath to give me courage and I left the house with the pages shoved into my purse and Ethan’s backpack with the silver knife inside it slung over my shoulder.
It was time.
o0o
The McGavin Hotel was my first stop.
There were two men to the side of the run-down hotel. Both looked big and scary and wore leather and chains. They drove motorcycles. They also looked familiar. I’d seen them around town many times before.
I forced myself to walk right up to them.
“Hey,” I said.
They looked at me. “Hey, yourself.”
“My name’s Olivia.”
Sunlight bounced off the man’s gold front tooth. “I’m Joe. This is Goliath.”
“Goliath?”
“It’s my nickname,” Goliath said.
It suited him. He was roughly the size of a small mountain.
“You live in town, right?” Men like this you didn’t forget if you’d seen them once or twice before.
“Yeah. We own the garage on Sycamore. Why? Got a car problem you want us to take a look at?”
I passed that garage nearly every day on my way home from school. It was called Goliath Auto Repair. That’s how I knew them. My father took his car there.
I’d approached the two of them with one thought in my head: This was Ravenridge. Crime-free Ravenridge. The place where people left their doors open and nothing bad ever seemed to happen. Boring-central.
At least, it had been until this week.
If these two bikers lived here and had for years, I’d hoped it meant that they were scary in looks only. Because I needed their help.
“There’s a guy in there.” I nodded at the bar. “I want to talk to him. But, I—I’m sort of scared. He was my stepfather and he used to be rough with me and my mom.”
Joe’s eyes narrowed. “What guy?”
“His name’s Frank.”
Goliath’s brows went up. “Frank?”
“You know him?”
“We know him. Weird dude. Keeps to himself.”
“I don’t want any trouble. I just want to talk to him about something. But I want to make sure someone’s watching my back just in case he gets out of hand.”
“Never seen him make any trouble before.”
I shrugged. “First time for everything.”
They exchanged a look. “You go talk to him, Olivia,” Joe said. “We’ll keep an eye on you. Promise.”
“Thanks. I appreciate it.” I wasn’t proud I was adding more lies to my growing list, but the truth wasn’t my best friend right now.
I entered the dark, musty interior of the McGavin. I wasn’t completely positive he’d be there, but he was, bellied up to the bar exactly where he’d been the other day. Mid-afternoon on a Saturday.
Not normal.
But I had no illusions that Frank was anything near normal anymore. Now I was going to find out for sure.
His gaze moved to the mirror behind the bar and he watched my approach. He tossed back the shot of whiskey in front of him and signaled for another one, which the bartender poured.
“You’re back.”
“I am.”
“Where’s your boyfriend?”
“Haven’t seen him today.” It was the truth, no lie required.
He shrugged and turned his attention back to his alcohol. “You look okay. I’m guessing there’ve been no more attacks since the last time I saw you.”
“Not yet.” I hesitated. “Do you know why they’re keeping such a low profile?”
“No. I’m waiting just like you are to see what their next move is.”
“You usually wait for an impending attack by bloodthirsty monsters by getting drunk?”
His lips curved. “Can’t think of a better way, actually.”
“Have you been in town long, Frank?”
“Long enough.”
“I don’t remember seeing you before. I’ve lived here all my life.”
“It’s not that small of a town. And I figure you don’t exactly hang out the same places I do. Anyway,” he sloshed the liquid around in the glass before him, “when you see Ethan the next time, sweetheart, tell him I want to talk to him.”
“That’s going to be a bit difficult.”
“Oh? Why?”
“Because I killed him.”
The sloshing stopped. He didn’t move or speak for a very long time. The silence hung in the air between us like sticky cobwebs.
“You shouldn’t joke about things like that, little girl,” he growled.
“I’m not joking,” I said, choosing my next words very carefully. “I found out what he really is, I took his silver knife, and I sank it into his heart. He’s gone. A scorch mark’s all that’s left of him.”
His knuckles whitened on his shot glass as he tossed it back, but he still didn’t turn around. His eyes narrowed on my reflection in the mirror. “You shouldn’t have done that.”
Just a few words, spoken quietly, and Frank had just confirmed my very worst suspicions. I already knew in my gut it was true, but there was still a piece of me that desperately wanted to believe it wasn’t.
The shattering of my heart into a million sharp pieces didn’t make any sound at all. Rage rose inside of me when before there had only been fear and suspicion. “He was an Upyr. Just like the others.”
The truth tasted like poison.
Frank spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear him. “You don’t know what a mistake you just made.”
“I killed a monster that wanted to kill me.”
“Kill you? That boy was the only thing standing between you and the rest of them. Now your protection is gone forever. When he comes back he won’t be the same. He won’t feel the same need to—” He hissed out a breath. “Stupid. So stupid. Both of you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Forget it. It’s done. You’ve chosen your fate. Now get the hell out of here.”
I pulled the piece of paper out of my bag, the photo of Frank and the other men, and I slammed it down on the bar top in front of him.
“Tell me why you’re in this picture. That’s you, isn’t it?”
“You’re in way over your head, little girl.”
“I’m not a little girl.”
“Oh, but you are.” He finally swiveled in his chair. His expression wasn’t fierce or angry when he looked at me now. It was haunted. “You shouldn’t be a part of this. Any of it.”
“But I am.”
“Yeah, you are.” His bloodshot eyes met mine. “Sucks for you.”
“This was in your journal. It was your journal, wasn’t it? You were here a hundred years ago when the Upyri were around the last time. You trapped them.”
There was silence for a long moment. “Yeah. I did.”
At the confirmation my stomach twisted into knots. “You’re still here. You’re—I read it in the journal. You said you were revenant and that helped you. Tell me what that means.”
“Revenant,” he whispered. “Touched by the hand of death. That’s what I was. And that’s what you are, too. That’s why they want you just like they wanted me. Don’t you see?”
“No, I don’t see. I don’t see anything! That’s why I’m
asking you these questions. I need real answers from you. Please!”
His bloodshot eyes turned cold and he grabbed my arm hard enough to hurt. “Shouldn’t have gotten rid of Ethan, kid. You only have yourself to blame for whatever happens to you now.”
His grip tightened and I let out a little shriek, my courage and anger falling away, replaced by fear. It wasn’t long before Joe and Goliath were there on either side of Frank, wrenching his hand off me.
“Easy, Frank,” Joe said, and there was no mistaking the warning growl to his voice. “No need to hurt the girl.”
“He wanted to help you,” Frank snarled at me. “It was all he wanted. It’s your fault that help is gone now.”
“Hey, you okay, Olivia?” Goliath asked.
I just nodded and staggered away from them. “I’m fine.”
Another lie. I was nowhere near fine. I didn’t think I’d ever be again.
Joe gave me a concerned look. “You got what you needed?”
I shook my head. I didn’t get what I needed. I was only more confused now. And according to Frank, there was only one person I could go to for the answers I needed. The answers, it seemed, I couldn’t live without.
It was time to see Ethan.
Chapter 15
With every step I took as I ran toward the warehouse I grew more and more angry and scared. My heart felt heavy and damaged like it had been through a blender.
The boy I’d been falling for was a monster, the same kind of monster that wanted me dead.
The abandoned warehouse loomed in front of me, looking like a dark beast itself. I stood there for ten minutes trying to breathe. Part of me wanted to run away, go home, and pretend none of this was happening. Go get Bree and tell her everything, then come back later when I’d had time to think, to plan.
But this couldn’t wait. It had already been a whole day.
I pushed the door open in front of me. It was exactly as I’d left it yesterday. The locked room lay directly in front of me. I put the backpack on the wooden table to my right and pulled out the knife, looking at its sharp edge. It was the same one he’d used on the Upyr who’d attacked me in the park—the one using Mr. Watkinson’s body as a shell.
I knew this knife worked.
I let out a long, shaky breath. “I saw Frank. He told me the truth about what you are. So don’t even think about lying to me today.”
There was no reply. A shiver sped down my spine.
My hands shook, but I fought to keep my voice strong. “I need to know what you want. Why me? And why try to fool me for the past week?”
My frustration at his silence helped fuel my anger. “You said if we put an Upyr in there so he wouldn’t have the chance to get any blood for a day he’d start talking. So here we are. Talk to me.”
Nothing.
A thought chilled me. Maybe he’d escaped. I didn’t know how strong he was—strong enough to throw Peter across the hall yesterday. That might only have been a fraction of his real strength. Maybe, like Bree said, Upyri really were stronger at night. And this warehouse—I didn’t know how old it was. The lock could be flimsier than he’d originally thought. A hard enough shove or kick and it could have broken open. Ethan might be anywhere right now.
With the knife clutched in my right hand, I approached the door and tried the handle. It held firm. The door was still locked.
Sweat trickled between my shoulder blades in a cold line.
Grabbing the flashlight from Ethan’s bag in one hand, the knife clutched in the other, I went up on my tip toes and shone the light in through the small, open window.
I braced myself for a pale hand to reach out and grab me, but that didn’t happen.
I shone the light around the small, dark room. There was the bottle of water I’d left—cap off and turned on its side, empty. The sandwich was unwrapped, half eaten, the other half discarded. I moved the beam to the other side of the room and a gasp caught in my throat.
Ethan hadn’t escaped.
He lay on his side, his back to the door. He wasn’t moving. I couldn’t tell if he was breathing. He was so still he looked dead.
Wisps of smoke rose from his exposed skin.
Stabbing the other Upyri made them burst into flame and disappear. That was how their shells were destroyed. He’d told me if they went without blood for much more than a day, they would also burn. However, it would be slower. More painful. But the end result could be the same.
Ethan wouldn’t have drunk any blood while trapped in this room—a whole day now. His shell was slowly burning up because of that.
When I’d left him here yesterday I’d said I wanted to watch him burn for what he’d done. I’d meant those words, every one of them. But now that we were here and I was seeing the results with my own eyes the reality wasn’t quite as satisfying.
It was horrifying.
“Ethan, look at me.”
He didn’t move.
He was unconscious or in too much pain to move or speak.
I swore under my breath. Waiting and watching wasn’t getting me any closer to the truth. If Ethan burned up before my very eyes, I wouldn’t get the truth—not before it was too late.
He didn’t move, not even a little. I watched him carefully for a few more minutes looking for any sign that he was conscious, but there was nothing.
I pulled the key from around my neck and stared at it for a long, hard moment.
Time was running out.
After I unlocked it, the handle made a soft squeak as I turned it and pulled the door open very slowly. The larger room I’d been in had a large dirty window to the far end and light bled into the smaller room. It was still dark, still shadowy, but I could see without the flashlight.
Ethan didn’t move.
Knife in hand, I approached him cautiously. He was sick. He was dying. And I refused to feel any sympathy for him. He’d chosen this. It was his fault, all of it. But I needed him to wake up, to see that I had a weapon and wasn’t afraid to use it, and for him to tell me everything he knew before he finally went up in flames.
However, I knew that wouldn’t really kill him.
Upyri were immortal. This—Ethan’s body—was only a shell.
“That boy was the only thing standing between you and the rest of them. When he comes back he won’t be the same.”
More lies. I didn’t trust Frank to tell me the truth any more than I trusted Ethan. I didn’t trust anyone anymore.
“Ethan,” I said sharply, nudging him with the toe of my shoe. “Wake up.”
Doubt flooded me, but I fought against it. I didn’t care that I’d grown to like him over the last week—like him so much it hurt. That I’d quickly come to trust him with my life. The only reason I needed him alive for a bit longer was so he could give me answers so I could save myself and Ravenridge from the threat of other monsters like him escaping from wherever they were currently trapped.
The fresh, hot burst of anger this provoked gave me strength. I had the knife. I had the control here, not him.
I crouched down next to him and grabbed his arm, then yelped and drew back. It felt as if he’d been baking in the oven. I tried again, touching him more tentatively this time. So hot—I’d never felt anything like it.
No wonder his skin was literally smoking. He was being cooked from the inside out.
He moved so quickly I didn’t even see it coming until it was too late. The next second, both my hands were in his grip. He grabbed the knife from me and slammed me down onto my back. I didn’t even have the chance to scream before the cold, sharp edge of the knife pressed against my throat.
He loomed in front of me, the whites of his eyes bright in the darkness.
“Damn you, Olivia,” he growled.
I tried to push him away, but it was impossible. He was too strong. I was afraid to move or else the knife would dig deeper into my flesh. His skin felt like fire, hot enough to burn not only him but me as well.
“I hate you!” I snarled. If
I was going to die, I didn’t want to let him see me weak, let him see me beg. “Kill me. Go ahead and do it, you bastard. What are you waiting for?”
He released me so quickly my breath left me in a rush. He threw the knife away from him and it clattered into the corner. He crawled on his hands and knees to the opposite corner, sitting with his back to the wall and drawing his knees up to his chest. He glared at me from the darkness.
“Just go,” he snapped. “Leave me alone.”
I was shivering so badly that my teeth started to chatter. “What the hell are you doing?”
He snorted humorlessly. “Preparing to leave this shell. What do you think I’m doing?”
“And then what? What happens then?”
“Then I find a new one once I’ve regained my strength.” His fierce gaze grew pained. “But it won’t be the same. I don’t care anymore.”
I scrambled back to the opposite side of the room. “You lied to me.”
“I didn’t lie. I said I was protecting you from them. That’s exactly what I was doing.”
“But you’re one of them.”
He didn’t reply to that. He continued to glare at me across the darkness of the room, that strange smoke rising from his pale skin.
It only made me angrier. “Admit it, Ethan. Just admit it! Tell me the truth just once before this is over. Can you do that? Tell me you’re an Upyr. That you’ve been an Upyr all this time. Say it.”
“Fine.” He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before opening them again. “It’s true.”
Tears streaked down my cheeks, the ones I’d been trying to hold back for so long.
“You killed him.” It was a whisper, but the next time I said it, it was a shout. “You killed Ethan! Why would you do that? Why him?”
My hands were fists as I got to my feet and stormed over to where he sat curled up in the corner as if he was trying to hide from me. From the world itself.
I went to grab the knife again and he didn’t try to stop me.
I wanted to hit him. I wanted to beat him so badly so he’d feel the same pain I felt. I wanted to stab this knife through his heart and end this once and for all.
Despite the heat coming off his body, the look he now gave me was cold as ice. I kept thinking he was weakened, this close to whatever fiery death waited for him, but he rose to his feet in one smooth motion and I was reminded that he was several inches taller that me and weighed a lot more. That would have been threat enough if he was only human. As it was, all I could do was hold onto the knife so tightly that my hand started to ache.