Echoes (12 page)

“That makes two of us.”

She was silent for a moment. “Are you really dating Ethan Cole?”

Tears welled in my eyes again uninvited and I swiped a hand at them and instead focused on the purple wall behind Bree that had a picture of her and her family back when she’d been a cute blonde who favored pink lip gloss. I heard the crackle of the fireplace from the living room. “Yes. Well—no. I mean...I don’t know.
No
.”

She stared at me. “I don’t care what you say, you sound drunk to me.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. She was right.

“He’s always liked you, you know,” she said.

My gaze shot to her. “What?”

She shrugged. “Not that he ever came right out and did anything about it. But—I don’t know. It was obvious. To me, anyway. Don’t you remember that time in seventh grade, just before Helen moved here when we still hung out? The Halloween dance? His friends came up to you and told you he liked you right to your face. Don’t tell me you can’t remember that.”

I wracked my brain and came up with the fuzzy memory. I’d been distracted by something, by someone, and suddenly a couple guys from class tugged on my sleeve. They’d been laughing so hard it made them difficult to understand. They said Ethan wanted to ask me to dance, but wouldn’t leave his corner and that I should go over and ask him instead.

I hadn’t. I think I’d smiled at their dumb joke, and they’d left, still laughing about it.

But it hadn’t been a joke. They’d been trying to humiliate their friend at a school dance. Take how he felt about a girl and use it against him.

My mother remembered Ethan riding his bike in front of my house. She thought he liked me. Bree thought he’d liked me. The memory of his friends asking me to go over to him—to ask him to dance just once…

I’d forgotten about it as soon as they’d walked away.

I didn’t remember speaking directly to Ethan again after that. He’d totally kept to himself from that night on. I didn’t think I’d spoken face to face with him until Sunday night after Helen’s party...when he’d saved my life.

“Where’s the locked case?” I asked Bree, the words coming out as more of a choked sound. “I need to see it. Please, Bree. Please let me see it.”

She regarded me cautiously. “Fine. It’s upstairs. Come on, I’ll show you.”

I followed her through the house, the same one she’d lived in when we were younger, when we were friends, with colorful walls, cream colored furniture with bright, patterned cushions, hardwood floors. It was so easy to forget that all these years had passed now that I was here again. It felt exactly the same. Maybe we’d play with our Barbies later. Watch TV. Play video games.

Or maybe we’d try to find a journal that might or might not exist. That might or might not tell me what I needed to know to survive. And what I was supposed to do about Ethan if I proved he really was a monster.

The case was a wooden one, about five feet long and three feet tall. She swung the lid open and I looked inside at the photo albums, old clothes, and a knitted afghan. I immediately began sifting through the contents. Bree didn’t try to stop me.

But there was no journal.

“But you said it was here.” I got up and paced to the other side of the room and back. “You
said
it.”

Her expression was strained. “But why would I say that? Why wouldn’t I remember?”

I swallowed hard. “Because someone made you forget. Because whatever was in that journal could help me. Help
us
.”

She shook her head. “Why do you keep talking about some journal? It doesn’t exist. If it did I’d show it to you.”

“You knew until this morning. And then he looked into your eyes and made you forget.” I tried to breathe normally. “He tried to do the same thing to me, but it didn’t work. If he could make you forget, why didn’t it work on me?”

She stared at me quizzically. “Who are you talking about?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her everything, but I stopped myself just short. Not yet. Not until I knew if I was right or wrong about Ethan. There was still a chance that he was innocent. That everything that had happened had been my overactive imagination and coincidence combining to mess with my head and confuse me right down to my bones.

I shook my head. “Just forget it.”

“According to you I’ve already done that.”

“I don’t understand, forgetting doesn’t make something disappear. You had it. I know you did. And now it’s gone? Where?”

Bree got a faraway look on her face and her thin, penciled-in brows drew together. “It’s so strange, but the more you talk about it, the more it...I don’t know.”

“What?”

“The more it starts to sound kind of...
right
.” She shook her head “Like it’s something I
should
remember. Kind of like when you’re thinking of a word and it’s right on the tip of your tongue but you can’t remember what it is. Like...like trying to grab a fish but it slips right through your hands.”

I gaped at her. “Any more metaphors you want to share?”

She laughed nervously. “Probably. Give me a moment.”

“Think, Bree. Think. Try to remember.”

“I’m thinking.” Her lips curved downward after a moment. “I’m thinking so hard I think my brain’s on fire. Can you smell that?”

I sniffed the air. “I think that’s your fireplace.”

“It can’t be. We never use it after March.” She frowned harder before her eyes snapped to mine. “Wait a minute, that’s not true. When you called and said you were coming over, I lit a fire. I got some wood from the garage and everything.”

“Why?”

“I...I don’t know.”

My eyes widened and I didn’t wait for her to say anything else before I turned and bolted out of the room, down the stairs, and into the living room where there was indeed a fire blazing as if this was Christmas Eve and we were planning to roast some marshmallows.

Bree stood beside me. Her face was a study in confusion as she gazed at the flames licking the wood.

“I remember now,” she said, her voice so quiet I could barely hear it. “I got home, I started the fire like I was on auto-pilot, and then I went and got...
it
. I threw it in there. It’s gone, Olivia. And I—I don’t understand. Why would I do something like that?”

My gaze whipped back to the flames. I could see it now. A thick black leather bound journal, falling apart before my eyes. Only ashes now.

All my answers had turned to ashes.

“It’s like I’m trying to remember a dream.” She shook her head. “I had the journal the whole time—just like you said I did. And it’s gone. I burned it. I destroyed it!”

Yes, she’d done that. She’d done
exactly
that.

All because Ethan had told her to.

I searched her face, trying to see the truth there, trying to see if maybe she was lying to me. Maybe she was working with the Upyri, helping them. Getting her revenge on me by—what? Helping them steal my body by burning a journal?

No, of course not. I didn’t believe that.

“Do you remember anything about what you read in it? Think Bree, this is so important, you have no idea.”

Her face scrunched as if she was concentrating very hard. She shook her head. “I don’t remember. I wish I did, but I don’t. I can see the pages in my head, sort of. Blurry. I remember flipping through them, but not what they said. Small handwriting. It was hard to read.” She pressed her palms against her temples. “This is making my brain want to explode.”

“Ease off a bit. It’s there, in your head, I know it.”

“I remember looking at the pages. And there were—Wait a minute, I remember something else. There were pictures tucked in. A few pictures, not many.”

“Pictures?”

She nodded, then her eyes bugged. “I was scanning pictures for my mom. I’m in total scan-mode right now. Oh my God. Maybe I...” She blinked. “I think I might have scanned them in.”

My heart flew into my throat. “Where?”

“My computer.”

“Show me.”

She turned and headed back up the stairs from the blazing fireplace in the living room to her bedroom on the second floor. I eyed it as I went through the door. Black walls. My parents never would have let me paint my walls black in a million years, not that it was even a temptation for me. Thick purple curtains covered the window. A banner that looked as if it had been stolen from a local concert was tacked to the wall above her unmade bed with dark purple sheets. It looked like a dungeon in here—or the lair of a potential vampire hunter in waiting.

That was, except for the teddy bear. It sat perkily on top of Bree’s black-shammed pillow looking at us as if it was confused about how such a friendly guy like him had ended up here beyond the gates of hell.

Bree ignored my sweeping assessment of her room and sat down in front of her computer. There was a scanner and a printer hooked up next to it.

“Here’s where I’ve been putting the photos for my mom,” she said, double-clicking a folder. “By decade. Got them all—wait a minute...” She swore under her breath. “How could I not remember doing this?”

“Doing what?”

She looked at me. “Scanning the journal.”

I gasped. “You scanned it? All of it?”

“No, that’s the problem. Not all of it. I’d just started. There’s only a few jpegs in the folder.”

My breath held as she clicked on one and it opened in Photoshop. The writing was small and very hard to read. Her great-great-grandfather likely hadn’t meant this for anyone’s eyes but his own. She kept opening the files and they layered on top of each other. It was disappointing how few pages there were, but considering I’d thought we’d lost it all, it was better than nothing.

“Wait—” I said. “Go back to the picture.”

She went back to a worn, blurry black and white posed photograph of three men.

“Yeah, that’s him, I think,” she said, pointing to the man in the middle.

A chill went through me. “Your grandfather?”

She nodded. “It’s his journal.”

I literally stopped breathing for a few seconds as I stared at the black and white photo on the screen of Bree’s computer.

The bearded man looking out at me from the old, weathered picture—the original now reduced to ash in the fireplace—

It was Frank.

No, it had to be a coincidence. The photo wasn’t that good, wasn’t close up. I could be mistaken. I
had
to be mistaken.

It couldn’t be Frank. Because if it was that would mean that he hadn’t aged a day in a hundred years.

“You look like you just saw a ghost,” Bree said.

That’s exactly what this felt like. I’d been completely and totally spooked. “Can you print these pages for me, Bree? Please?”

With only a couple clicks her printer started chugging out the pages.

“What’s going on, Liv?” Any bit of mocking, annoyance, or even guardedness had left her expression completely by now. “Have the Upyri really escaped? I thought it was just a joke, but...they’ve seriously escaped and they’re back?”

My jaw tensed as I took the pages away from her. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“All by yourself?”

“Not exactly.”

“Ethan has something to do with this. He’s helping you, isn’t he?”

My mouth went dry. “Yes, he’s helping me.”

I desperately wanted to confide in somebody, but that would mean admitting out loud what I’d done and, well, I wasn’t there yet. I was too ashamed, too scared, and if someone else knew, then it would be out of my control. Not that I had any illusions I was actually
in
control right now.

She nodded. “If you need more help—I mean. I know we’ve had problems, but I’m here for you, especially when it comes to fighting these monsters. I’m serious about that.”

A fresh lump of emotion formed in my throat. “Thanks.”

She squeezed my hand. “If it helps, my father always used to tell me that Upyri are stronger after the sun sets. Like the whole “sunlight kills vampires” thing isn’t quite right, but isn’t quite wrong either. So just stay in after dark, okay? I’ll do the same.”

Ethan told me that the Upyri in wraith form avoided sunlight. They’d need a body to withstand it properly.

“Prom,” I said, thinking about tomorrow night. “It doesn’t start till eight o’clock. That’s just before sunset.”

She made a face. “I’m not going. Way too lame. But should we warn somebody?”

“And what? Tell them it’s possible that there are Upyri wandering around town that might crash the party?”

“Something like that.”

“Maybe we could have connecting rooms at the group home for mentally deranged teenagers. They’d lock us up and throw away the key if we told anybody about this.”

She grimaced. “You’re right. Nobody’s going to believe us. What does Ethan think we should do?”

“I don’t know. Tomorrow...he’ll have more to say about everything tomorrow. And that’s when I’ll know what to do or what not to do.”

That was when I’d see him again and see if he’d been okay with the water and sandwich or if he needed something else to satisfy his appetite

I shuddered.

“Do you always talk so cryptically?” Bree’s concerned look had quickly morphed into a glare. “Because it’s annoying as hell.”

I returned the look. “Thanks for your opinion. I’m doing the best I can here, you know.”

“Whatever, Olivia. I can take a hint. You have the scans, you got what you were looking for. Part of it, anyway. Happy reading. Glad to know you don’t want me around anymore now that you’ve used me for what little you think I could offer.”

My first instinct was to say something cutting back to her, but then I finally got it. She was reacting this way because she felt useless. Inconsequential. Like a nobody. And her defense mechanism was to lash out and hurt someone else, like a dog who’d been cornered would try to bite and claw its way out.

“I promise I’ll call you tomorrow,” I said calmly, which only made her frown deepen. “I’m serious. And I appreciate your help on this, Bree. More than you’ll ever know.”

I grabbed my backpack and left. As I quickly headed back to my house, I felt as if something was watching me. Something dangerous.

Instead of fear, anger surged through me.

I stopped and turned around. “What are you waiting for? Why are you hiding, you coward?” I called out at the empty street and my voice broke on the last word.

Not surprisingly, there was no immediate reply from any nearby Upyri ready, willing and able to give me all the information I needed. Just more silence.

And then, “Uh, who are you talking to?”

I nearly jumped right out of my skin. I whipped my head to my left and saw a couple boys on bikes nearby. They didn’t approach, instead they just watched me warily.

“I—nobody. I’m just...” I exhaled shakily. “Just forget it.”

I turned and kept walking, but then my pace slowed. I knew these guys. I should, since I saw them every single day at school and had for years.

They were some of Ethan’s friends. I peered back at them over my shoulder. They eyed me uneasily and were talking to each other in low voices. Probably about what a freak Olivia Hawthorn had suddenly turned into this week.

Or maybe they were talking about me
and
Ethan being seen together holding hands. Talking close. Me staring at him as if I was quickly falling in—

No.

I had to keep these thoughts away, keep them from distracting me. Instead, I turned and marched right up to the boys.

Shawn was skinny, basketball player tall, and had a chin full of acne. The other boy, Miles, was rounder with greasy blond hair and wore jeans with holes in the knees.

Neither was particularly attractive. Not that I expected them to be. Not that they
had
to be. I mean, not everyone at Ravenridge High was a supermodel. These guys were perfectly average looking.

But Ethan…

There wasn’t anything average about Ethan. Dark hair, copper-colored eyes, a tall, lean body...a smile that made me melt every time I saw it. But Ethan had an incredible talent at hiding all of that when another guy might flaunt it. Ethan had always turned his face away from me and stuck to the shadows before I had half a chance to register that he was someone I could easily—

No. Stop it, Olivia.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

“You okay?” Shawn asked cautiously.

“Yeah, fine.” I forced my eyes back open and looked right at him. “Can I ask you guys a question?”

“Sure. Anything.”

I would have found it amusing normally, how eager he sounded at the prospect of my wanting something from him. Not that it meant anything. I had no illusions that every boy in school harbored some sort of a secret crush on me. As Bree had so eloquently put it earlier, I wasn’t that hot.

Besides, most guys would be turned off the moment they saw my scarred leg. It was one of the many reasons I kept it hidden at all times.
Almost
at all times.

“I know this is going to come as a severe shock to you, Olivia. And it’s completely and totally unfair, but the fact that you have a scar that makes you feel ugly only makes you more beautiful.”

I shoved the memory away since it wasn’t helping. And it only made my heart ache.

“You’re friends with Ethan Cole, right?” I asked.

“Yeah, sure.” Miles nodded.

“Has he—” How was I supposed to put this? “Has he been acting any differently lately? Have you noticed anything strange at all?”

Shawn laughed nervously. “Strange? Yeah. Like,
way
.”

I inhaled sharply. “What do you mean?”

He looked at his friend. “I mean, like everything. I don’t know what’s gotten into him. The last couple of weeks he’s been,” he shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“What?” The word was sharper than I’d meant it to and came out sounding like a cracking whip. “Sorry, I—I’m just worried about him.”

“You’re worried about him?” They exchanged another glance. “So it’s true?”

“Is what true?”

“Did he actually ask you out?”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. Ethan doesn’t share much, even when we’re trying to get it out of him. That part hasn’t changed. But, I mean, there’s you. And what happened with Peter Klassen this morning. And he hasn’t totally admitted it, but I think he kicked his stepfather’s ass, too. Dude deserved it. But that’s not Ethan. Ethan never would have done any of that.”

I shivered at the reminder. “What do you think changed him?”

Miles shrugged. “Don’t know. But I wish I’d get a dose of it, myself.”

They didn’t know any more than I did. Less, even. They just saw a guy who’d been quiet, and recently had become stronger and more assertive. “If you see Ethan, can you let him know I’m looking for him?”

They nodded. “Sure thing.”

I walked away, my heart drumming hard in my chest. I couldn’t believe I’d actually said that last bit. Like I was trying to establish an alibi that I hadn’t seen him lately; that I didn’t know exactly where he was. Alibis were for people who were guilty of something.

Kidnapping. Forcible confinement.

All because of a hunch. A terrible, terrible hunch.

And it hadn’t been confirmed at all by his friends. Sure he was different. He’d taken action against an abusive man like his stepfather. Maybe that had triggered it. Maybe Ethan had reached the end of his rope with that situation and lashed out and that had been enough to change him. Just because someone started acting a little different didn’t mean they were
literally
different.

And then there was Frank. I didn’t even know where to begin to wrap my head around that piece of the puzzle.

I figured I’d begin with some reading.

My mother met me at the front door with a big smile.

“I was thinking,” she said, “I really want the two of us to have a girls’ night out. How does tonight sound? Dinner? Maybe a movie?”

I knew we had forged an extremely shaky truce and I didn’t love the idea of shaking it back in the wrong direction. Plus the hugging thing earlier had probably given her the impression that all was well between us again. But there was no way I was doing dinner and a movie tonight. I wouldn’t be able concentrate during a movie, and right now, with the way my stomach felt, I didn’t think I’d ever be able to keep anything down other than water. Maybe not even that.

“Thanks, but—”

She cut me off. “I know your cell phone isn’t working that well anymore. We could stop at the mall first. Get you another one.”