Chapter Nine
It was easier to be upset with her than admit I needed her help. Without her, I’d only wonder what kind of person she was, trying to convince myself that I wasn’t a mold of her. But that wasn’t true because I had her powers. Reading the diary was the only way I could be sure that I wasn’t forcing Nate to be with a horrible person, that I was as sweet as I smelled, and the spice he picked up on wasn’t my propensity to hunt and kill his kind.
It would prove that I wasn’t going to finally snap one day. I’d have evidence to show Nate that I wouldn’t. Or that I would … and I’d force myself to do the right thing and let him go.
After reading the first sentence again, I could hear her voice behind it. She sounded irritated and sullen. Like the kind of person who’d tell her daughter to dump her boyfriend during their first conversation ever.
After lamenting her hate for writing, she wrote:
I hate being a girl. I hate every single thing about it. I hate my hair. I hate my shape. I hate these stupid breasts. I just hate life. There’s nothing good about it. No reason to smile or laugh. I hate the sound of laughter, which is why I never do it.
“Jesus, you sound like me. Like Leah,” I said. It wasn’t looking too good for me.
Every day of my fifteen years of life have been a waste. Because I’m a girl. I’ve trained so hard, only to be sitting here with nothing. Dad is disappointed, I’m sure, and my mother is loving this.
I slammed the diary shut, pissed.
“Grandparents!” I said. Orphans don’t have grandparents. “Where are they?” The word, dead, echoed in my head. I jumped. I really needed someone to teach me how this psychic thing worked. I had a better chance of controlling it if I knew what questions led to answers like that.
With her parents successfully killed off in my mind, I opened the diary to continue.
I’m sure she’s getting me fitted for an apron already. Waiting for me to give up on my powers and run home. Not now. Not again. I’ll just have to make it work this time. At least my new trainer is a woman. Certain things shouldn’t be a problem. She promised Dad they wouldn’t. He has paid her well, I’m sure. So hopefully she won’t try to auction me off like Julian did. That was the worst day of my life. I was dressed in skimpy clothes while greasy old men shouted out prices. The boys went for no higher than 100,000 dollars. My highest bid was three million. Three million! Because I’m a girl. Because I can make more of me. Even though I wouldn’t have to be their mother, I’d still have to carry them. That’s gross!
Then Julian closed the bidding. He didn’t accept any offers. He said I was worth more, the world, to quote him, and he intended to keep me now. I’d never been afraid of him in that way before. I’ve lived with him since I was twelve. I knew he was mean. He killed the creatures before they could explain. Even if they begged. I’d seen him hit the boys, especially Kamon, so I knew that could happen one day. Never did I think I’d be too afraid to fall asleep. Too afraid that my bedroom door would open in the middle of the night and it would be time to make copies. There was never any mention of injections, so I assumed the pregnancy would happen the old fashioned way. And with him. So I left. I went home, crawled in bed with Mom and Dad, and cried like a baby.
I thought for sure Dad would make me go back, but he didn’t. He held me and told me not to worry. Now he’s trying to salvage my career as an agent by sending me to Mona, an old training buddy of his before he quit for Mom. Too bad I hate it. Too bad I’m better than she could ever be and she can’t teach me anything. She knows more than Dad, and she’s faster than him too, but I’ve already gotten every mental power there is. But at least she’s not Julian and at least I don’t have to ever worry about being bred.
I closed the diary and sighed. “Are you still here?” The chill came back in an instant. “What happened? How did you end up with me? How did you die?” The pages fanned back and forth. It felt like she was telling me to read and hunt for the answers myself.
The next entry read:
I can’t take it anymore. I’ve been sitting in this little poor person’s house for a month. Mom came here to decorate my room. Pink! The color of female puke. And now I’m dying.
She scribbled all over the page like she’d lost it. I ran my fingers along the puncture wounds where she’d gone nuts with her pen.
“And this is why I’m a psychopath. Thanks, Catherine.” At least having a boyfriend for one day was nice. It was more than I’d thought I’d have.
The next page read: I snuck out today. Thank God I did. I may have burned the house to the ground if I was trapped in there another minute. Chicago isn’t as hideous as I thought. I walked around when Mona went for yet another meeting. Agents are never home like hunters are. Then her stupid maid left. I hate her. Who needs a maid for such a little house? Four rooms. My mother would have it clean in a minute and she’s just a normal human woman.
Catherine was a good artist. She’d sketched a big-city skyline on the back of that page. I wanted to check out more of her art in her studio, but I didn’t want to feel their deaths again.
I think I like coffee now. I spent the day at a coffee shop. But that’s not why I like it. It’s what he asked me for, the guy with the guitar, like I worked there. The nerve of him. He was lucky he was cute. Cute like I’d never seen.
“Babe, we’re back,” Nathan said, at the door. I jumped up, looking for a place to stash the book. Then I saw the camera sitting on the sofa by my feet and the picture of us I shouldn’t have next to my laptop. I wasn’t ready to explain why I’d gone in Remi’s room and that a feeling and a ghost had led me to her pictures. I snatched the camera and the picture and brought myself directly to my closet. I hid them in the crawl space and moved myself to the door to let him in.
My head spun. I had to grab the doorknob to stand up straight.
He planted a sweet kiss on my lips, and I pulled him inside. I hoped my mother was watching so she’d know she couldn’t tell me who to date.
The diary nagged me, distracting me from Nathan. It sounded like she’d met someone she liked, and not someone at training.
He picked me up, finally pulling me away from CC.
“Missed you,” he said.
“Missed you more. Was it fun?” I giggled as he nibbled on my earlobe.
“Not at all. It was just stuffy old wizards with money, looking for young wizards with money to take under their wing. Pointless night away from my girlfriend.”
“Aw,” I said.
“I convinced Sophia that you were sleeping so I didn’t have to wait to kiss you. She’s gone. I hope you don’t mind that,” he said. He lowered me down to the sofa, hovering over me in his fancy clothes. Of course I didn’t mind. I kissed him to show him I didn’t. “What were you doing?”
I ran my fingers through his hair, making him look a little less groomed. “Reading,” I said.
“Do you want me to help you with your literature homework again?” He puckered his lips, and I shook my head. I didn’t tell him I wasn’t reading that. I needed to know more about my mother before I brought anything up. “Did you draw me something?”
“I forgot. Maybe tomorrow.”
I was too busy talking to my mother.
He flipped us over in a blur, and I rested on his chest. It was comfortable and natural. Like we’d lived like this for years, not hours. I kissed him softly under his ear, trying to prove to myself that I could be gentle and loving and remotely worthy of him.
He sighed just loud enough for me to hear. “Thanks,” he said.
“For what?”
“This.”
He didn’t have to say anything else. I knew what he meant. Today was the first day he’d had someone to be this close to. Someone to kiss under his ear, to notice and appreciate how remarkable and perfect he was. God, I hoped that would matter when I told him the truth.
He recapped every detail of the ball. He’d danced with Sophia and stepped on her toes. Paul an
d Emma befriended a wizard who knew Sophia well. He and Remi weren’t approached.
He couldn’t resist the TV for long. I wondered if it was because he didn’t have one in his room downstairs, or that he’d been living on the streets without one for a year.
We both jumped when Lydia Shaw’s face flashed as he flipped through the channels. He went back, and I groaned. The world hadn’t moved on from me.
She was in the middle of assuring the world of its safety. The bottom of the screen indicated that it was previously recorded.
“We are doing everything we can. We have many leads to go on at this point. She will be back at her home very soon. And according to her file, she will be turning seventeen tomorrow. So on behalf of everyone, Happy Birthday, Christine. I know you are somewhere watching. Alive and well.”
Christine? She’d called me Leah before. And she said she knew. My heart fell to my ankles. She was psychic. Of course she knew. Where I was. What I was.
Nathan lifted my face from his chest and forced me to look at him.
“What’s today?” I asked, instead of screaming that we needed to get the hell out of here.
“March 1st,” he said. “For a few more hours.”
The air in my lungs came out in an unexpected huff. With everything going on, I’d forgotten March 2nd was so close. I shivered. My first Happy Birthday in years came from Lydia Shaw after a promise to ruin my new life. Right before she deepened her voice on the word know.
“What do you think she knows? How long do you think we have?” I asked.
“Baby! It’s your birthday!” he said. “If she knew, she’d be here. I refuse to let us worry about her right now.” He tickled me back into the room, away from Lydia Shaw. Then he kissed me hard, switching between his two selves so fast that it dazed me. “Seventeen! I can’t believe I didn’t ask you when your birthday was. Did you forget?”
I nodded. “It’s not a big deal, Nate.”
“This is a very big deal,” he said. “It’s your birthday!”
“It’s tomorrow.”
“It’s in a few hours,” he said. He kissed me and stood. “That means I only have a few hours to get you something. I’ll see you tomorrow. Lots to do.” I whined and pulled him back. He kissed me and pulled away again. “Goodnight, birthday girl.”
I ran to the closet after I locked the door behind him. There was something infinitely more interesting than my birthday right now. I brought the diary to bed, and I picked up where I’d left off.
In case Mona or her stupid maid ever finds this diary, which is why I told my mother it was a dumb idea to get it for me, I am doing my best not to mention names anymore. Especially now that I know a name that I never want to forget. A name I want to say over and over again. His name.
Dad taught me to block my thoughts when I was nine years old, so I’ll be okay if I can keep this diary hidden. If Julian ever saw this, after what I am about to write, he’d want to find him and … I can’t even think about what he’d do to him. Because he can’t pay Julian three million dollars for me.
But after he asked me to get him a cup of coffee, I promptly told him that I didn’t work there. I left out that I never needed to work anywhere, probably ever. I didn’t even want to be an agent for the money. The idea of being stronger than the creatures was always enough. Now, I don’t know why I care. After living with a hunter, I should’ve changed my mind. Agents are different, though. I’d be different, but now … that apron isn’t looking so bad.
She didn’t want to be a hunter. At least she didn’t when she was fifteen. I smiled, hopefully not too soon, and turned the page.
So he actually got up to get me a cup. I hadn’t had coffee before. Julian … would DIE if he saw me put that in my body, the body he wanted to keep in tip-top shape. He left his guitar there next to me. I plucked at the strings without my hands on accident. I hadn’t been around average humans before him, other than Mom, and she was used to me moving things without touching it. He would probably think I’m a witch since everyone’s seen one now.
“CC?” I called. I peeked my head into the sitting room and beckoned my laptop. It moved to me sluggishly. I was beyond tired, and my weak powers reflected that. I had to get under the covers to sit so close to her. “Is he my dad? The guitar guy?” I asked, opening a new document.
Yes.
“He didn’t train to be a hunter on an agent?”
No.
“Mom, just tell me all of it. Type it. Please.” She reminded me to call her CC again, and I slammed the laptop shut. “I’m not going to call you anymore. It’s obvious that you hate me. You didn’t even want kids.” The temperature dropped around my face, and I turned away. Her kiss ruffled my hair instead.
She left again, and I opened her diary.
He didn’t notice the strings. He’s unaware of so much. Especially of how gorgeous he is. I didn’t have a phone number to give him. I can’t have him calling the house. If Mona or her stupid maid picked up, I’d be in loads of trouble. And I don’t want anything to stop my first date tomorrow.
Catherine was more endearing in her diary than she was in death. As the ghost of my mother, she was annoying. As the fifteen-year-old coming alive on the pages, she was interesting, so interesting that I couldn’t stop reading.
We met at the coffee shop. He had a set to play. He sang a little. It was beautiful. His voice was perfect, almost hypnotizing, enough to steal someone’s soul. I didn’t care for music until that moment. After, we went to a little shop for ice cream. The place had so many toppings, I couldn’t choose. Ice cream! I hadn’t had that in years. Then we went to a place down the street for pizza. I was stuffed. I’m going to throw up on Mona tomorrow during our lesson.
On to the bad part. I’m a good liar, I’ve always known that, but the lie I told him today burned my chest. He’s eighteen. Just turned it, but still. I am three weeks away from my sixteenth birthday. I told him I couldn’t wait to turn eighteen, knowing he’d think that was soon. I was too afraid to tell him after we kissed in the empty park under the stars, knowing he’d have a problem with kissing someone so young.
Maybe it won’t ever be an issue. Maybe I won’t ever see him again. I know I want to, but he is a luxury I can’t afford. I can’t date. Dad warned me that I’d given up that right when I decided to train so intensely. Because I’m a girl, this can’t end well. I’ll never be normal. Even if I don’t train another day, there is a chance that the kids he says he wants to have, the kids I am now imagining could also be mine, wouldn’t be normal either. I should leave him alone. I should forget about him. But I can’t. And foolishly, I checked the future, and I saw him there kissing me.
“Well … you were right about me,” I said. I wasn’t normal, and according to her, she didn’t have to dope up on psychic powers while she was pregnant to pass them to me. Good news. No, great news! I folded down the corner of that page. It would be the first one I’d show to Nate.
Four words to describe our second date, she wrote on the next page. OH. MY. DEAR. GOD. I love his apartment and that he has no furniture but a little mattress on the floor. I fell in love with him on that little mattress. I cried when it was time for me to leave.
What I knew about CC so far: she painted, ran away from a hunter, and was severely dramatic. I turned the page, and it got much worse. I groaned. She’d written a poem titled: Without him, death is certain. In it, she described the ways she’d die if she ever lost him. Drowning herself and jumping from a bridge were the least graphic.
“You’re the reason I’m a basket case, Catherine!” I said. “I can’t show Nate this! And you just met him. You can’t be this in love.” She didn’t come back to defend herself.
The next several pages were more poems about him, crazy and obsessive ones. I thought she was in it alone until I read the next entry.
I told him the truth. I told him I would be sixteen in one week. I told him about the powers and training and everything. He broke up with me
. And because he’s never mad and never raises his voice, I was so confused. I didn’t know it was happening. Breakups aren’t supposed to be calm. He kissed me on the cheek and told me he loved me but he couldn’t see me anymore. He said I was too young for something like this and opened his door for me to leave. He was crying. My heart was bleeding because I’d hurt him.
I fell on my knees and begged him, right there in the middle of his living room. I screamed and cried, and because he’s an angel, he forgave me. Then he made me tell him every horrible detail about training and Julian. He cringed when I told him I learned to kill at twelve. He didn’t believe for one second that those creatures were criminals like Julian said they were. Now that he knows everything and understands why we can’t be a normal couple right now, my life is perfect.
“So … you guys were really in love,” I said. “Surprising. Good, but surprising.”
Catherine was in love with a normal guy. She’d killed creatures, but because she’d been ordered to long before I came along … I hoped. I wanted to ask her to come back and explain, but I knew she’d only piss me off with her rules. His rules.
I flipped through more pages. I didn’t think she could fall more in love with him, but she did. She’d sketched flowers around the edges of most of the pages I came to after he’d broken up with her for thirty seconds. She wrote three whole pages about his eyes, describing every detail. I didn’t need to see a picture to know I had the same ones.
The next five pages were about his lips. I didn’t read much of it. She was obsessed and far too descriptive, and I didn’t care to know what my dead father’s mouth tasted like.
We spent twelve hours staring at each other today.
“Really?” I said, rolling my eyes. “Both of you were crazy.”
We didn’t say much. We just stayed in bed and stared, falling deeper in love. I’m so glad I pretended to be sick. It was the best day of my life so far.
She went on for ten more pages about that day and how wonderful it was to gaze into his eyes. I skimmed it as I shook my head.
I read the next entry closely because of the first sentence: I love being a girl, every single thing about it. She was so different, so soon. I folded the corner down. This page showed that hunters could change and added some clout to my efforts to be different.
He watches me when I walk by, at the coffee shop, at his house, everywhere. He’s always watching me. And his thoughts, when I can’t ignore them, are always about me and the curves he somehow finds on my skinny frame. I could make him do whatever I wanted. I could control his mind and he knows that. I could make him stop being ridiculous about waiting a year to make love, but I promised him I wouldn’t use my powers on him. He made me swear when we got back together. So now I have to rely on God given parts to change his mind. And that’s where being a girl comes in handy.
She started to describe her methods of seduction, and I turned the page. She was my mother, and I wasn’t in the mood to throw up tonight.
On the top of the next page she wrote, If I died today, the last three weeks have made the last sixteen years worth living. He is my life. He is all that I want. She enclosed that in a string of flowers. It made me think of the painting outside of the locked room.
She started the actual entry under her doodle.
We celebrated my birthday and our almost-one-monthiversary today. It feels like a year. He wrote me a song and played it on the new guitar I bought him. I cried. Today he finally commented on how tired I looked. I told him the truth. I couldn’t sleep without him. So he asked me to move in. I said yes. Now I have to figure out a way to tell Dad I’m quitting. Or more realistically, since I can’t imagine saying those words to my father, I’ll have to trick Mona into thinking I still live with her.
I gathered she’d succeeded in seducing him by the next entry. I only stopped to read it because her tone was different. Not obsessed with him or overly sexual.
It was nothing that I thought it would be. Because I’d thought it would cost someone a good deal of money or Julian would creep into my room and try to father the copy himself. Tonight was everything I thought I wouldn’t have. Romance. Love. A choice. And it was perfection. No moment in my life can compare. I couldn’t care less about being a damn agent or what my parents would think of him anymore. I’d live in this tiny apartment and love him and only him for the rest of my life.
I folded the corner of the page. Their love was undeniable in this entry. It also showed a side to breeding Nathan didn’t seem to know about—that it wasn’t a choice women hunters made for themselves. They were forced to, and my mother chose a different life. She chose love.
Indisputable evidence.
“Thank you,” I whispered to her. I took the deepest breath I’d taken since I was twelve, when I started feeling like an abomination. Something God and the world hated.
They were crazy, but in love. If this was who I was a copy of, that wasn’t so bad. She’d learned to kill at twelve, the same age my powers came, but she stopped, it seemed. This Catherine didn’t seem like she would’ve wanted to make a copy. She seemed like she’d have a baby with the man she loved.
The entries that followed were way too much. She wrote about nothing but their physical relationship for nearly seventy pages.
“Seriously?” I said. “You couldn’t have torn these out before you showed this to me?” I didn’t expect her to come out now. It was 12:30 in the morning, my birthday, and I was avoiding pages that would’ve taught me how they’d made me if I didn’t already know. She had to be somewhere hiding in shame right now. Raymond, too.
The next entry I stopped on seemed safe to read and happy.
We got married today. He proposed this morning and we were on our honeymoon by sundown. It’s not legal, but we bought rings and exchanged them after the vows. We were alone, we’re always alone, but it was amazing. He hasn’t said my name all day. It’s just wife this, wife that. I love it. He couldn’t have given me a better 17th birthday present.
She was married at my age. I couldn’t imagine being married. They were so young, and it couldn’t be too long before I came along. There were only a few pages left since I’d skipped most of the diary.
I haven’t written in over a year. I found this diary in a box of old things we never unpacked, she wrote. So she’d be eighteen now. I read it, all of it. I let him read it, too. We laughed about how insane we were, and he thinks I should start writing again since life is getting so stressful. Stressful doesn’t even begin to describe it. Julian has threatened me and he knows I’m with someone. Not to mention magical kind have completely lost their minds, and apparently no one can stop them. And I know Julian could, maybe he’s too concerned with finding me to care.
He told my dad I owed him at least one copy. That he made me what I am and I ran away before he benefited. Dad has given him millions to leave me alone. Mom finally told me that. Dad would never admit it, even if he were speaking to me. He hasn’t said more than ten words to me since I quit training without telling him. It was impossible to do that and be a good wife, so I said goodbye to my dreams of being an agent. I’m happier. I love my husband more than anything in this world. In any world. He lives in hiding with me and never complains. It’s been months since we’ve seen humans other than my parents during awkward, silent dinners. I promised him it wouldn’t be forever. Julian will give up one day. I know he will. Then we’ll be a normal couple, even have normal kids.
My heart jumped to my throat. I was starting to see where this was going. How they died.
Since Dad finally convinced Mom to ignore me, too, I went to the house. It was empty, but I found them easily. She answered the door and said ‘May I help you?’ like she didn’t know me. She didn’t. She stared for a second, but it never came to her.
I told her my name, and she said I had the wrong house. She said they had no children. Then Dad came out, just as clueless. Then he remembered something, not that I was his only child, but th
at a piece of mail had come for someone by that name.
They closed the door in my face, and I sat on the doorstep and read the letter Dad sent there for me. Julian threatened to kill them if they didn’t bring me to him, and now they’re hiding, too. He and Mom drank some potion to erase their memories. He wanted to keep their minds safe in case Julian ever found them. Apparently, this was the only way to keep my location and husband a secret.
He apologized for everything, shutting me out for the last few months, even sending me to Julian all those years ago. He blamed himself. He told me where to find money to keep me stable for the rest of my life. He finally admitted how much he liked my husband, and he begged me not to undo what he’d done. At least for as long as Julian was obsessed with me.
I knocked on the door and asked to hug them both. They let me, with curious faces, and I went home to my love. He held me all night. I didn’t say a word. I do that a lot lately, just sit and stare. And he’ll sit and stare with me, being everything I need. Now I only have him. He’s always only had me. I love him more than life, and because of me, he could be killed. Julian believes he is the only reason I won’t give him a copy. I’d do anything to keep him safe, even allow my parents to forget me. I wrote a poem long ago about what would happen to me without him. And if Julian wants me dead, this is how to do it: take my husband, take my life.
The rest of the pages were blank. She wrote nothing else. Nothing about me. I tried to fill in the blanks on my own. They must have stayed in hiding and had me. CC knew how to see the future, so she knew when Julian was coming and brought me to St. Catalina. But if she could save me, why not save herself? And Raymond too?
“CC?” I whispered into the air, crying now. I shivered and opened the laptop. “Did Julian find you?”
After an excruciating minute, she typed: Yes.
“My grandparents, too?”
Yes.
“Oh, my God. A hunter killed my entire family.” I grabbed a pillow and hugged it against my chest. She typed as I cried into it. I lifted my head to look at the screen.
Not exactly.
“What do you mean? He killed my grandparents?”
Yes.
“My parents?” I waited a whole minute. She didn’t answer. “Did he kill your husband?”
Yes.
Julian killed her husband … but not my parents. He didn’t kill her. Because of the poem, and her many pledges to not live without him, I asked, “How did you die?” Her chilly hand touched mine, and I shattered. “He died first, and you did it yourself after you brought me to New Haven, didn’t you?” My chest burned as I waited for her answer. I thought about the times I didn’t want to live. I’d never gotten far enough to plan it, it hurt too much to think about for more than a minute, but after reading her diary, I knew Catherine would go through with it.
Can’t say. He doesn’t want me to upset you too much on your birthday. How I died doesn’t matter. It only matters that you know that the shifter has no idea what breeding is about and that you are not a monster.
“Then what’s wrong with me? I want to hurt people. I get so angry. I … literally have to fight to be happy.”
She rubbed and froze my back before typing her reply.
You inherited a powerful mind. If I were you, I would stop thinking and saying such horrible things about myself. Seeing as how your thoughts can very easily become reality.
“You killed yourself, and you’re giving me advice?” I said. “You should have changed the way you thought, the things you were saying to yourself and writing in your diary. I inherited more than a powerful mind. I inherited your crazy.”
You inherited an attitude problem, I see. I’ve upset you, I’m sorry. I promised him I’d leave you alone now, but I’ll come if you call me.
“And … that’s it?” I whispered. “You don’t have anything else to say to me?”
Maybe I should add that your ancestors are rolling over in their graves as the heir to their fortune houses magical freeloaders.
I grunted and slammed the laptop shut, giving up on having a mother-daughter moment beyond the few kisses she’d given me.
“At least I know they like me,” I said. “Go away.” She left, and I brought the diary back to the door in my closet.
Back in my bed, I cried because I’d let myself care about them. Before, they were nameless evil creatures, then nameless evil hunters. Now that I knew their story, I felt cheated. She’d learned to love but didn’t extend that to me.
I’d met my own mother and still hadn’t ever been told I love you. She wasn’t emotional to talk to the daughter she hid. She’d given me three kisses, but insulted Nate and my friends, and her husband hadn’t come out at all.
I was a copy, technically, but for different reasons than I’d thought. For different reasons than my silly shifter boyfriend told me. I probably wasn’t bred to kill. I was just born at an inconvenient time to parents who loved each other more than they loved me.
Fear filled every space inside of me as I lay there. I had more to worry about than Lydia Shaw. Julian was a hunter. If he knew I was Catherine’s hidden child, he’d finally have what he’d thought she owed him, a copy.
I’d been afraid before. Of God, of his wrath. But nothing turned my stomach more than the thought of sitting in a lonely cell, being made to kill, forced to make copies myself. I shivered, thinking of how terrifying it must be to be forced to sleep with someone you don’t love and give birth to children who wouldn’t be treated like children at all.
I could only hope Nate would understand this.
I didn’t sleep at all. The sun was up, and I was still crying, more petrified of the hunters than ever. And Catherine’s death weighed on me, the heaviest of all my worries. She’d taken her own life and left me alone. My birth didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t live without Raymond. I really didn’t want to have to tell Nate that I was a copy of someone who committed suicide. He’d assume exactly what I was assuming now … that I was capable of that, too.
I’d have to say: Hi, babe. I’m a copy … the thing you said was the worst thing ever. Good news, even though I’ve wanted to kill several times, I might not be a vicious murderer, unless I somehow speak it into existence. Bad news, my ex-hunter mother was nuts and eventually killed herself. Oh … and in addition to Lydia freaking Shaw looking for me, I’ll also have to hide from hunters that would want to breed me and kill you.
Then he’d run away from the crazy girl with the crazy life.
I wrapped myself in the comforter like a burrito, pledging to never come out. If I never saw him again, I wouldn’t have to tell him.
Of course, Sophia unwrapped me when she came in. She dried my tears and kissed my forehead.
“Some nights will be harder than others, but you’ll get out of this,” she said. “Depression won’t win.” I nodded, going along with her assumption. “I was watching the news. Is it because of what today is?”
“Not really. I forgot about my birthday.”
She rested her hand on my cheek and smiled. “I hope this will be the happiest day of your life.”
“Thanks,” I said, knowing it probably wouldn’t be.
I climbed out of bed so she’d stop looking at me like I was about to slit my wrists. “Did you hear Lydia Shaw say she had leads on the news?”
It was silent for a moment, then she laughed. “I’m sure that’s just what she has to say to keep the world from having a panic attack.”
I followed her into the bathroom. She sprayed cleaner on the spotless mirror and set a rag in motion that continued to streak across the glass on its own.
“Did you hear her say she knows?” I asked, taking my mind off of the harmless magic I wished I had. “She said knows. Like she knows, knows. Doesn’t it freak you out that she’s psychic? Couldn’t her powers lead her here?”
Sophia froze, and her rag paused on the mirror mid wipe. For a moment, I thought she was going to scream and tell me to run. But
she smiled, and the rag started up again.
“What on Earth made you think a crazy thing like that?” she asked.
“I thought about it last night after she said she knew I was somewhere alive and well. And it’s not crazy. They have powers. Nathan told me.”
Her eyes cut to me when I said his name. I kept my eyes up so I wouldn’t look guilty. “You two are good friends, I see,” she said. I swallowed hard and nodded. “Good.” She said good, but her tone said, I’m watching you. “And I swear you’re safe here, sweetheart. I give it a few more days until they give up and call off the search. And she doesn’t know where you are. I know how to protect myself and this entire situation from psychic readings or any other hunter trick. I understand they won the war, but give my magic a little credit, dear. Trust me. There are no leads.”
I sighed but let it go, wanting to trust her and be safe and ignore the feeling that told me that I knew that I wasn’t.
I still didn’t trust her enough to tell her about the blood test or my parents. I really liked Sophia, but something wasn’t right with how she looked at me at times. Now was one of those times.
I dressed as she cleaned and exchanged my sheets for a fresh pair. Like he was waiting on her to leave, Nate knocked on the door seconds after she vanished. I opened it. Not Nate.
Emma smiled, and I managed to return it. “Happy Birthday,” she said.
“Thanks.”
“I’m being used for my hands,” she said. Nathan came from behind her on four legs. I kneeled down to pet him. The smile was genuine now. I hadn’t seen him in his friendliest form in days. Perfect. I didn’t need to confess anything to this Nathan. I just needed to scratch behind his ears.
“Hi there,” I said.
“Hope you have a nice birthday,” Emma said handing me a folded square of paper. She skipped away, and I opened the note.
“Good morning, babe. Follow me,” I read.
He ran down the stairs and to the kitchen door. I opened it for him. There was another note on the table.
I hope you like pancakes.
I petted him again and sat at the empty table.
“He’s so lame,” Paul said, walking out of the kitchen. He sat a plate of pancakes in front of me. “He agreed to do my chores for a week if I went along with this.” Paul pulled another note out of his pocket.
How am I doing? I thought you deserved some servants this morning. In case you’re wondering why I’m not me, I knew you’d convince me to sit and eat with you, and this is all about you. You’ll see me later. How’s that for anticipation?
“I’m actually glad to see you,” I said, leaving out why. He’d given me more time.
Emma giggled and closed the door behind her, a pitcher of orange juice in her hands. She curtsied and poured me a glass. “My lady,” she said. “This is very cute, by the way.”
“Yeah. Oh, how was the ball?” I asked.
She jerked her head towards the kitchen. “I didn’t dance,” she said. I frowned. Paul must have not asked her. “But I didn’t get chased out with pitchforks. I’d give it an A minus.” We laughed, and she went back into the kitchen. Nathan ran in behind her.
I ate the pancakes quickly. None of them were exactly circles, more like lopsided splatters, but they were good. After, I realized I should’ve eaten slower and made breakfast drag. When this birthday surprise was over, I had to tell Nate about my powers and my troubled mother.
“Dessert,” Paul said, sitting a bowl of strawberries covered in whipped cream in front of me. “Not that I ever thought Sparky was cool, but he’s lost any chance of it now. Poor guy.” He pulled another note from his pocket.
Hey, babe. When you finish breakfast, I have something for you in your room.
I eased each strawberry into my mouth slowly, delaying the inevitable. Emma took my dishes at the sink when I’d nibbled each one to the stem. I crept upstairs. My door was open. I searched for him, but he wasn’t there. He’d made a path to my bedroom with pink flowers leading to another note on my bed.
Happy Birthday, Chris. I don’t have to tell you that I have no money, you know that. And here is where I resist the urge to mention that you’re far too rich to be bothered with someone like me (I just failed). A girl like you deserves the world, and I hope to be able to give it to you one day, but today I have breakfast and flowers from the garden of our next-door neighbor. Don’t worry, I grabbed them last night. No one saw.
Thank you for being my girlfriend. I can’t believe I get to kiss you. Oh, by the way, you’re a great kisser. And I know you’re the only person I’ve ever kissed, but I can’t imagine it getting any better. (This is where you resist the urge to roll your eyes). Okay, Happy Birthday, again. I’m glad you were born, and all of those people who could’ve told you Happy Birthday over the years and didn’t missed out. Now, they’ll have to fight with me for your attention on every March 2nd from now on. It’s my favorite day now. Without it, there would be no Christine to make my life perfect.
I put the letter on the bed and wiped my face. This made it official, I was going to wake up any moment now and all of this would have been a beautiful dream.
“Happy Birthday,” he said in my ear. I didn’t turn around, I didn’t want him to see me crying. “Do you hate your cheap gifts so much that you wanted to cry?”
I shook my head, still caught up in his words. I didn’t even think Catherine and Raymond were glad I was born. I’d bet that March 2nd sucked for them. I didn’t fit into their love story. I was Juliet’s little complication before she stabbed herself.
He forced me to face him, and I smiled. At least he was happy I existed. God, I needed it to stay this way. He lifted my chin and kissed me. His lips were so soft and warm, two things I’d never be able to let go.
My heart squeezed a little. I sounded like Catherine, obsessive and dramatic.
He chuckled against my lips. “You taste like pancakes and strawberries,” he said.
“Did you make them?” He nodded. “They were perfect. Just like you.”
“The fact that you are completely deluded works largely in my favor.”
We laughed and fell naturally into another kiss, a deeper kiss, from my impossible boyfriend that I had so much in common with. We both didn’t belong in our families. His, cold and unwelcoming. Mine, full of the kind of love and passion that ends in death and leaves a child alone to worry about the enemies they left behind.
As his lips pulled at mine, slow but electric, I remembered a feeling that seemed so distant now—a constant numbness I hadn’t been able to shake until I met him. My heart and been cold and dead, but now it felt like lava slushed inside of it. Alive and in love.
I wanted to tell him. The words were close to spilling out, too soon, but definitely true. Just like my mother, in love way too fast.
His lips slowed, moving to my nose then my forehead. When he gave me a moment to rest, I yawned. I’d been up all night.
“Sleepy?” he asked. I tried to say no with a kiss. I missed his lips, and it landed awkwardly on his chin. He chuckled. “Take a nap, baby. I have three times the chores to do. Part two of your birthday will begin when you wake up.”
“Part two? I’m up. I’m ready.” But I said that leaning against his chest with no energy at all. He picked me up, pulled off my shoes, and tucked me in bed.
“See you later, Chris. Sweet dreams.”
I was in the cabin built for one again in my dream. I rolled over in bed and bumped into Nathan. His beautiful eyes fluttered open.
“Morning,” he said. I opened my mouth to say it back, but he was shirtless, and my mind went blank, forgetting everything but how to kiss him. “You know how this goes, babe. If we don’t get up now, we’ll be here all day.”
He crawled out of bed, threw on a wrinkled white tee, and picked me up. He carried me to the table set for one. I sat in his lap as we ate breakfast in the quiet house. After, we went outside to the forest I’d crept through with the birds
. He tossed a little rock at me and ran, starting a game of chase. I ran through the beams of light the sun cast through the trees. The black birds hopped around me as I tried to find him. They were chirping, laughing, so was he in the distance.
Pure white butterflies fluttered around me. When they cleared, he was there. We kissed in that beautiful moment, and he took off again. I bumped into him seconds later. He stalled, peeking behind a tree, not at all in the mood to play anymore.
“Shhh,” he said. He crouched in front of me. My heart pounded as he pulled a knife from his back pocket. “Come out! I dare you!” The bush ruffled in front of us. “Go inside, Chris!” he ordered.
I ran for the door just as a huge man in black leather revealed himself. Nate charged and tackled the hunter. They wrestled in the dirt, grunting and growling, until the hunter went limp.
“Who’s next?” Nathan yelled. “You’ll never get her as long as I’m here!” He wiped the bloody knife on his white shirt. We waited, both listening for the sounds of another hunter. We only heard the forest. For some reason, it felt like our forest, like we lived here and had been living here for years, alone and secluded and waiting for danger. Just like my parents.
We went into the cabin and cuddled in the chair in front of the fireplace.
“It’s okay, baby. You’re safe. It’s my job to make sure of it every day,” he said, rocking us. “I’ll kill a million hunters to protect you. All that matters is that we’re together, Catherine.”
Nate disappeared, and I was in the chair alone. I walked through the house, looking for him, wanting to yell at him for calling me her name.
I jumped. Two bloody bodies were lying in the hall. A woman with dark curls covered the man completely. I inched closer, crying, and kneeled so I could see her face.
“Mom?” She didn’t answer. “CC?”
I nudged her shoulder, and her body flipped over. I gasped. It was more than a resemblance. Her face was the mirror image of mine, and her hand was on a knife that was through her stomach.
I looked over to see Raymond and screamed. He wasn’t my father, and that wasn’t my mother. Nate and I were bloody and dead in our little home.
“This isn’t real. This isn’t real,” I said until my eyes opened in my room. I wasn’t relieved to be out of the dream because most of my dreams had some measure of truth in them. Just this week alone, I’d dreamed of leaving school and I did, that same day. The night after I kissed Nathan in my sleep, we’d kissed for hours in the living room.
I got out of bed, fighting tears. Even the beautiful parts of the dream were frightening. Nate and I lived alone and secluded. That could come true. He couldn’t have a normal life with a copy for a girlfriend. And a hunter interrupted our happiness in the dream. That could happen, too. That could happen now.
I thought of Julian with purpose then, wanting to hear something about the man who ruined my parents’ lives. I heard nothing.
I’d slept the whole day away. The sun was setting in my room, marking the end of the day and the grace period I’d given myself.
Truth time.
I knocked on his door a few times. No answer. I searched the house. The living room was empty, and the doors to the dining room were closed.
I went into the kitchen and found Remi sitting on the counter, eating an apple.
“Hey, birthday girl,” she said, then rolled her eyes.
“Hi.” I craned my neck to see if they were out on the patio. Empty.
I turned to leave, but I heard something—buzzing in the house for the first time.
“Were you in my room?” she asked. I didn’t answer or turn around. “Of course not. You're not stupid enough to steal from me. Not again anyway. I told you to stay away from him and you didn't. So I guess we'll be scrapping soon. The panther versus the witch who hates magic, should be interesting. Unless you're interested in sharing him.”
She laughed, a cackle too close to Sienna’s. I shuddered, straining against the part of me that wanted to strangle her.
“He's definitely interested. He told me so last night when we spent two hours in a cramped storage closet together.” I spun around. Her face lit up like I was doing exactly what she wanted me to. “No one was really interested in us, so we had time to slip away. Get to know each other a little better. I bet he didn’t tell you about that.” The clatter around her grew louder. “He has trouble keeping his hands to himself, doesn’t he?”
I hunched my shoulders, finally giving some form of a response.
Nate hated her. She smelled like bad milk, so I knew she was lying, but I wanted to hear for myself. Because I could now, I listened to her thoughts.
Look at her squirm. What else could I say about Sparky? As if I’d ever let that dog touch me. I just need to get her angry.
Get me angry? She didn’t like Nate?
And around that noise, I heard her devising a plan to make me think they’d had sex while I was sleeping. And deeper than that, in a voice with more tenor, more seriousness, she wondered if that plan would get her what she wanted.
What she wanted?
Now I knew how they spotted hunters. I’d been staring at her dead on, wrapped up in her thoughts, for nearly a minute.
She took another bite of her apple and smiled at me.
Damn, she can really stare.
I forced my eyes away then.
“And his lips! Leah, I can see why you were being so slutty with him the other night. He really knows how to bring it out of you, right?” she said. I tuned that out. What she was saying without words was more interesting.
Why is she always so calm? This is annoying. Oh, I know. I could run upstairs, grab my phone, and steal his boxers. That would do it. I’ll scare the shit out of her and get a picture of it.
Not today. I’d been scared enough.
I walked to the island and grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl. That wasn’t enough to show her that I wasn’t afraid. She was on to my bravery stunt. She smiled and bit into the apple, slow and dramatic.
I’d show her dramatic. I opened the drawer like I needed a knife to peel an orange. As I grabbed it, I wondered how Catherine would handle one of these. She’d trained to be an agent for years. I assumed that meant she used to fight. I wondered if she’d made me good with a knife.
I threw it in the air, feeling certain before I tossed it. It flipped several times then I snatched it. My hand landed perfectly on the handle. The innate hunter in me twirled the knife around my fingers, and I rammed it through the center of the orange as I stared her down.
“I’d had enough after the hair in your soup,” I growled. “You can’t imagine how tired I am of you, Remi. If I were you, I wouldn’t tempt me.”
She jumped from the counter and growled at me. It was way less frightening in her human voice. I smiled.
She ran out of the kitchen before I could learn the rest of her plan or what it was that she wanted.
I glared at the knife in my hand. “I can’t believe I did that … or said that,” I whispered. Before I could freak out about acting like a maniac or Remi plotting against me, the calming scent of the orange hit my nose. It made everything okay, peaceful, like it always did.
Until I bled on it.
It was a thin stream that I was fairly certain Remi hadn’t seen, but she’d still met Leah. Witnessed me acting like a copy. “Idiot,” I scolded myself.
I pitched the orange into the trash and wiped my nose with a paper towel. I hid it under a banana peel and a crumpled cigarette pack in the trash.
“Christine, my heart,” Sophia said, arms open with her happiest face on. I crept away from the trash, dabbing my nostril with my thumb to see if it was still clear. It was. “Here she is, everyone. I found her.”
Emma, Paul, and my boyfriend came into the kitchen. Sophia took my hand and led me to the dining room. She opened the doors slowly, her entire face in a smile and her shoulders hiked to her ears.
“Surprise!” they yelled. r />
They’d filled the room with balloons of every color. Dinner was on the table with a birthday cake, twinkling with seventeen candles, in the center.
“Oh, my God,” I said.
We waded through the green strings hanging from the balloons and sat around the table. Throughout the song, I kept my hands glued to my cheeks. I was at a party. My birthday party. It was unbelievable and amazing and I cried because the nuns had always assumed I wouldn’t want one of these. And later, I’d assumed since Satan made me, I didn’t deserve one. And now, I was somewhere in the middle. Not wholly Christine or Leah, good or evil, sane or crazy.
“Make a wish, my dear,” Sophia said. I closed my eyes and made a few: to be safe, to keep him, to keep myself. I blew out the candles, and they cheered. It was almost so amazing that I could ignore the hairs standing up on my arm. Sophia was right next to me, preparing to cut the cake, and I still felt watched from afar.
My instincts said: danger. My heart said: enjoy the party.
Sophia put an arm around my shoulder as Nate rubbed my knee under the table. My heart won that battle.
“Christine,” Sophia said, grabbing my hand. “Was it the best birthday you’ve ever had?”
“Definitely,” I said. “No contest.”
“Good. I order you to be happy and smile for the rest of this day,” she said.
I smiled, but I wouldn’t follow that order. I assumed Nate would be upset, and I’d probably get dramatic like my mother and beg him not to leave me.
“I second that,” Nate said. His hand moved from my knee to my thigh. I’d have to enforce a no touching rule during my confession, or I’d never get it out.
Remi, danger in distressed jeans and a tank top, stood by the door without coming in, even when Emma offered her cake.
When our eyes met, her mouth twisted into a wicked smile.
I own that witch, she thought. I’ll get what I want. I’m in control here and she’ll know it soon enough.
She wanted something from me, and I assumed it was money. I wondered if I’d let her intimidate me enough that I’d offer her some obscene amount to keep her mouth closed about me.
I didn’t wait for my psychic powers to kick in. I knew the answer was hell no. I was done being bullied.