Gravity (13 page)

When he stopped behind me and placed his hands on my upper arms, I felt my own will rise up and spread through my chest, down my arms and into Brady and Lacey where I still touched them.  With eyes that were finally able to focus, I saw their strange visages dissolve into that which had always been. 

A rush of fatigue suffused my body, sweeping my knees out from under me.  But I didn’t fall.  I didn’t move one inch closer to the floor.  Trace’s hold on me was complete.  Firm.  Steady.  Rock solid.  He stepped in closer to me and pulled me back against his chest, supporting me with his strength.  I felt it like a physical entity, permeating my skin and rolling through my body in steely waves.

Inch by inch, my flesh recovered.  In the meantime, I listened to Trace’s heartbeat and watched with rapt fascination as Brady and Lacey became aware of their surroundings.

Brady was the first to find his tongue.  He looked quizzically at me and then asked, “I thought I told you to knock.”

I had no response.  I was flabbergasted that, once again, he seemed to have no clue what had happened, what was going on.  I looked to Lacey.  She said nothing, but there was a troubled expression that hovered around her eyes, giving her a haunted appearance.  I knew I would have to address her in private later.

Shaking his head as if feeling addled, Brady looked past me to his best friend.

“What up, man?  When did you get here?”

“Just have, bro.  Just have,” Trace responded casually, carefully relaxing his grip on me, making sure I wouldn’t fall.

I knew Trace had no idea what was going on, but I also knew he’d felt something when he’d touched me.  And, if I knew Trace, it was something he’d want to discuss later.  And, trust me, I knew Trace.

I watched Brady’s expression change as he took in Trace’s hands on my upper arms, the probably intimate-appearing way I was leaning against him as he supported me.  With great reluctance and more strength of will than I thought I possessed, I pushed myself forward and reached up to smooth my hair, effectively dislodging Trace’s hold on me.  Casually, I stepped to the side, making sure to avoid eye or physical contact with Trace, and I turned my attention to Lacey.

“Seriously, Lace, if you don’t help me with supper, we’ll never get to eat.”  I put as much lightheartedness into my observation as I could.  And this time Lacey responded to my unspoken desperation, nodding absently and scooting off the bed.

“Then let’s get after it,” she said with an almost natural smile.  Almost.

“Why don’t you two get the Xbox hooked back up so we can play Guitar Hero after supper.  I think Lacey and I can take you two dorks.  I’m feeling lucky.”

Playfully, I tossed them a challenging look, grabbed Lacey’s hand and proceeded to drag her still-sluggish body out the door.  I could only hope that the boys would do what they usually did and get lost in friendly video game competition until time to eat.  I wanted to keep them from fighting and becoming sworn enemies, but I also had to keep Lacey away from Brady.  And at the moment, that was my top priority.

In the kitchen, Lacey absently chopped vegetables for the salad as I browned ground Italian sausage for the spaghetti sauce.  She hadn’t said a word since her one comment in Brady’s room and every time I looked at her, she was watching Brady and Trace where they sat in the living room.

Once I’d put the sausage in the pot with the rest of the ingredients for the sauce, I grabbed a knife from the drawer and walked to stand beside Lacey.  Taking a rinsed red bell pepper in hand, I began removing the stem and seeds, silently debating what I should say to her.  It was a short debate, as she quickly took matters into her own hands.

“What’s wrong with me, Peyton?”

I was surprised by her question, surprised enough to stop what I was doing and look at her.  She did the same.  As I looked into her eyes, I saw an awareness that I hadn’t noticed the first time I’d seen her change.  She knew something was up.  And, somehow, she knew I had answers.

“What do you mean?” I asked tentatively.

“You know what I mean.  There’s something inside of me, something dark and…different.”  Lacey’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears.  “Tell me Peyton.  I need to know.  What’s happening to me?”

CHAPTER EIGHT

A thousand questions, options and deliberations ran through my head in a split second.  How did one go about telling one’s best friend that she was a life-draining succubus?

Lacey reached out and wound her fingers around my wrist.  “Peyton, please!  Just tell me.”

I could see that my silence worried her, almost as much as her other concerns it seemed.  I licked my lips, buying myself a few more seconds while I worked out the best way to tell her.  As it turns out, that wasn’t enough time.  Instead of finding a tactful way to ease her into it, I just blurted it out.

“You’re a succubus,” I stated flatly.  I didn’t want her to think I was kidding.  But she did anyway.

“Peyton, I’m serious!” she declared.  I could tell she was near tears.

“I
am
serious, Lace.  Why on earth would I choose something like that to joke about?”

“But those things aren’t even real,” she reasoned.  I could see a gleam of something in her eye, however, that said it fit.

“I didn’t think they were either.”

“How would you even know about something like that?  I mean, why am I even asking you?”

I shrugged.  “I have no idea.  I was kinda wondering the same thing.”

“Well, I guess it makes sense.  You’re the dorkiest of the two of us.”

We both laughed, tensely, but like a crowbar, it seemed to dig into the space between us and open things up a bit.

“This is why you’re my best friend.  No one can compliment me quite like you.”

“I know, right?”

We both giggled again before things drifted back into serious waters.

“Peyton, how do you know this?  Why would I even think to ask you?”

“I don’t know, Lace.  All I can tell you is that something strange is happening to me, too.  I can see things in people that just aren’t…right.  And I know things.  Weird things.  Things that scare me.  Things that don’t make sense.  But, then again, they sort of do.  I don’t know,” I said, sighing and letting my head fall back on my shoulders.  “I feel like I’m losing my mind and finding it, all at the same time.”

“So, you see…things in other people?”

I lowered my chin and met Lacey’s eyes.

“Yes.”

We watched each other as she toyed with both her knife and the idea of asking a question she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted the answer to.

“So, um…what is…uh, what is Brady?  He’s something different, too, isn’t he?”

As we stared solemnly at one another, I debated keeping that information from Lacey.  There were two reasons I did not.  One, that knowledge might someday save her life as well as someone else’s.  Two, I desperately wanted to confide in someone, to tell them all the strange things that were happening to me and to everyone else.  And Lacey was my best friend.  I trusted her with my life.  Always had.   I just never imagined that lives might one day actually be at stake, lives including those of the people I loved most.  I would never have dreamed the extent to which our friendship would be tested.  I prayed that it wouldn’t break under the strain.

“Lacey, if I tell you these things, you have to promise me that you’ll never tell another soul, okay?”

I knew the look on my face conveyed the seriousness of the situation.  Her sober expression promised me that she understood.

“You have my word, Peyton.  Just between us.  Always.”

I paused once more for a brief second, but then I jumped in head first.

“Brady’s a vampire.”

I saw Lacey pale the tiniest bit.  She nodded slowly, as if digesting what I’d told her.

“Has he, um, bitten anyone yet?”

“No, he has no idea.”

She kept nodding, her eyes straying to where Brady sat in the living room.

“So he doesn’t know about me?”

“No.”

“And I’m a succubus?” she asked almost conversationally.

“Yes, I believe so.”

“And that means I what?  Suck people’s souls or something?”

“As far as I know, you feed on life forces.”

“Anyone’s life force?  I mean, am I gonna have to drop out of school because I can’t be around people?”

“I don’t think so.  So far, I think it’s only Brady that you’re really…
interested
in.  I’m not sure why yet.”

“So what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come in?  Would I have hurt him?”

I could hear the panic rising in Lacey’s voice as she gave deeper, more serious thought to what I’d told her.  All things considered, I still thought she was taking it awfully well.

“I don’t know.”

“Is that why you’ve been trying to keep me away from Brady?  You think I would’ve hurt him?”

  “No.  Yes.  Sort of.  I mean, it was for your safety, too.  I don’t know what you would’ve done to each other.  Remember, he’s dangerous, too.”

“Dangerous,” she repeated almost robotically. 

Lacey squeezed her eyes shut and clamped a hand over her mouth.  I could tell by the trembling wrinkle in her brow that she was fighting off tears, fighting off panic.

“Hey,” I said, pulling her hand away from her mouth.  “If it helps any, it seems that I absorb whatever kind of…powers are close to me, so I can sort of sympathize with you.  I’m a freak, too,” I said with a grin.  And it was true.  I hadn’t really thought of it in those terms before, but I knew Lacey would particularly appreciate that.

She opened her eyes and, when she saw my grin, her lips curved up into a tentative, shaky smile.  “You’re the freak,” she teased, “not me.”

“But we already knew that.”

“Yeah,” she said, her smile widening.  “We knew that.”

Suddenly overcome, Lacey threw her arms around me and hugged me tight. 

“So we’re in this together then, huh?” she whispered into my hair.  “Just like always.”

“Yep.  In it together.  Just like always.”

She pulled back and waggled a finger at my nose.  “And you’re gonna keep me from hulking out and killing people, right?”

I couldn’t help but laugh.  “You don’t hulk out, Lacey.  Far from it.”

“What happens to me exactly?  I mean, I can’t really remember a whole lot, just a lot of extremely strong and extremely bizarre sensations.”

“It’s really hard to describe,” I admitted, struggling to find the words that would convey the beautiful horror that she represented.  “I wish I could just show you,” I lamented, resting my hand lightly on top of hers.

And then I felt it.  I felt it run down my arm, into my hand and out my fingers like an electrical current.  The images of Lacey that were forever etched into the dark recesses of my memory cascaded down my muscle fibers and nerve ends and flooded hers, making their way into her mind’s eye.  I could practically visualize the path that the pictures took, almost see them lighting up her head like a hundred-watt bulb.

She gasped, her fixed stare assuring me that she was seeing something not in our surroundings, but rather something inside her mind, something I’d put there.  Wishfully.  Accidentally.  Needfully.