Still, I hesitated in the main hallway, uncertain of where to go. It ends at the beginning, the dancing faerie had said. But where was the beginning? The bathroom where Luke had found me throwing up? The picnic bench out back where we’d flirted?
No, of course not. It had all started when we played onstage and silenced an auditorium full of people. That was the beginning: the first time I’d ever used my powers, though I hadn’t known it then. It was painfully obvious—what James called a “major duh moment.”
My shoes squeaked as I walked down the hallway toward the auditorium. I felt painfully conspicuous. I listened for other footsteps, though I didn’t know if I’d even hear them over my stupid squeaky shoes. I glanced at every dark classroom window to make sure I wouldn’t be ambushed by some strange faerie creature.
But the high school seemed abandoned, chilling in its emptiness. In my head, Luke’s voice said, trust yourself.
The memory of his voice gave me courage, and I squared my shoulders. I’m strong. I pushed open the doors to the auditorium.
The bulk of the auditorium was in darkness. Rows of invisible folding chairs stretched out before me, but the stage was lit as if a production were in progress. Pieces of half-erected set lay in the corners of the stage, remnants or beginnings of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. In the middle of the clutter, there was a bare circle. And I saw a little dark pile in the middle of it, with a spotlight trained on it.
It could have been a pile of anything, but I knew exactly what it was. I wanted to bolt down the aisle and vault onto the stage, but logic told me it was a trap. Why else would They have put James under a spotlight, if not to encourage me to bolt up there?
So I made my way cautiously down the dark aisle, spinning, surveying every seat, listening for rustling and smelling for thyme. But it seemed empty like the rest of the school. I made it all the way to the stage stairs, up the stage stairs, onto the slick pale wood of the stage; and still I was alone.
Feeling exposed under the bright, hot lights, I crept over to the pile and recognized the color of James’ favorite Audioslave T-shirt. I couldn’t see his face, but after seeing the crash site, I knew I wasn’t going to like what I saw. I swallowed; I wasn’t ready for this. Please be alive.
I crouched, hovering a hand over his shoulder, hesitating. “Please be alive.”
The head turned toward me, and Freckle Freak grinned up at me. “I am.”
I scrambled backward, shoes slipping on the floor, and Aodhan stood up, wearing James’ bloodstained shirt, his torc glinting at the edge of the sleeve, his smile widening at my shock. His nostrils flared as if he were taking in my scent, and he ran his tongue across his lips.
“Where is he?” I snarled, putting more space between the two of us. As repugnant as the thought of Aodhan touching me was, for some reason I was stuck on the idea of him wearing James’ shirt. He’d taken it while James lay bleeding; I just couldn’t stop thinking of that. “What have you done with him?”
“Very little. The car really did most of the work.”
I had nowhere left to back up to; my next step would take me down the stairs, into the darkness. Breathtakingly fast, Aodhan was beside me, his herbal scent so strong it made my head spin. “Soon,” he whispered into my ear, thyme infecting every bit of me, “I’ll be able to touch you.” He spread his fingers out and pushed his palm toward my collarbone. It hovered, millimeters from my skin, so close that I could see every nick and stain on the leather bands around his wrist. Again I saw Luke’s memory of him tormenting the girl, saw the red-stained leather at his wrists.
Do something. Do something. Instinct kicked in. My knee jerked up, missing his family jewels but slamming him in the thigh. I struck at his face, thinking of how nice it would be to smash out a few of his grinning teeth. He took a step back, easily dodging me, and watched with an easy smile, his head cocked charmingly. For all the world, he looked like an extremely evil model who had escaped from the pages of an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog.
I scrambled away from him, back toward the center of the stage, thinking only that I needed more room to maneuver. Aodhan followed my progress with a mild smile on his freckled face. “I asked Luke if he’d share you after She had punished him for his disobedience. I’m pretty sure what he said was ‘yes.’”
“Asshole.”
Aodhan chewed his thumbnail and then jerked his hand toward the stage behind me. “Watch your step, lovely.”
I jerked to look behind me. Oh crap oh crap oh crap. There, lying in a pile of broken lumber jutted with nails and set debris painted an ugly green, was a shirtless body. Though I didn’t want to see more, I took a closer look at the dark, stained jeans, the smeared chest, James’ bruised face under a mop of hair. I swallowed vomit.
“I think he punctured a lung, poor thing,” said a bright, clear voice above me. “He stopped breathing just as I brought him in here.”
I looked up at Eleanor’s beautiful features. She gazed down benevolently at me. Blood was smeared all over her elegant white dress, and she examined a spattered nail before licking her finger clean. My world swayed.
“Oh,” she said, voice so lovely I wanted to cry, looking down at the pile of James. “There he goes again. He is a fighter, don’t you think, Aodhan?”
Beside me, James took a shuddering breath, and then, too far apart, another one.
“Bitch!” I burst out. I wished I knew a worse word.
Eleanor gave a lovely, perturbed frown and exchanged a look with Aodhan. “I always forget how angry they get.”
Rage boiled inside me, swelling and mixing with the night already in my heart. I felt as if my skin would burst with the enormity of my anger. Freckle Freak reached to touch me again, and I exploded upward, striking out with my hand and everything inside me. He literally blew across the stage and into the orchestra pit; I didn’t hear him moving, but I was sure he wasn’t dead.
Eleanor covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh. Ah ha. That was not very nice.” She shook her head at me. “Oh dear, that won’t please her at all. She’s going to stop all our fun early if you provoke her.”
Fun. I couldn’t even begin to speak. How could I reason with creatures who thought this was fun?
“Deirdre Monaghan,” Eleanor tried the words out; they sounded elegant in her mouth. “I’m sorry that you don’t seem to be enjoying this.”
“I’m not here to enjoy myself,” I muttered.