Kill Me Softly (4 page)

What's that thing on her back? Cancer?

Giggles. Sounds of disgust and disbelief.

Is that a tattoo? It's so ugly!

She'd wrapped her towel around her waist as soon as she realized they were talking about her, then sat on the side, the fun of the waterslide forgotten, while she waited for Bliss and Elsa to ferry her home.

Ever since that day, she'd felt the mark like it was a living thing. Like an eye that followed her everywhere.

Her godmothers said it was silly to be self-conscious about “a little birthmark.”
It's your body, there's nothing wrong with it.

As if it was normal to have a hideous, wheel-shaped mark on your skin.

She felt a pang of guilt when she thought of Elsa and Bliss, and wondered where they were right now—whether they'd flown to San Francisco or were tearing the house apart in a panic. But she was too exhausted to beat herself up over it. She didn't like lying to them, but they hadn't left her much choice. She needed closure, needed that connection with her parents. She'd deal with the consequences when this was over.

Finished with her shower, Mira wrapped her soggy mass of blond hair in a towel, pulled on the pair of boxer shorts and the tank top she'd brought as pajamas, and climbed between the sheets, letting the covers swallow her up like quicksand.

She was so tired she could barely feel her limbs—but her brain wouldn't fall asleep. She stared at the blackness of the ceiling and wondered if she was crazy, coming all the way to Beau Rivage to kneel beside two graves. Breaking her godmothers' hearts to save her own.

Of course you're crazy. It's a question of
how
crazy.

The covers were heavy, like earth lying on top of her.

Normally, when she couldn't sleep, she took refuge in daydreams. She'd unroll a story for her parents like a velvet carpet, and guide them down it until she fell asleep. But tonight she felt too caught in the present to leave it.

She was in a new place, in a beautiful room that belonged to her. She thought of Felix, and how he'd kissed her cheek, and her heart raced like it wanted to remind her it was there. She'd spent eight months obsessed with her plan, writing love letters to a boy who didn't exist. It felt nice to have a real crush for once.

When she slept, she dreamed of the ocean, of wisteria petals fluttering onto her skin. Of Felix kneeling in the sand, sea foam dripping from his fingers, murmuring,
here they are
.

She awoke to a tremendous
bang
.

P
ALE DAWN LIGHT BLED
around the curtains—enough for Mira to see that the bolt on the door had been breached, and the door had been flung open and slammed hard against the wall. A slender, dark figure moved swiftly through the room—

And pounced on the bed.

Mira started to scream; she reached for the phone beside the bed as the intruder's body fell onto hers. A hot hand clamped over her mouth.

“What are you still doing here?” he hissed. “Are you crazy?”

Disoriented but filled with adrenaline, she bucked like a wave—she was stronger than she looked; she'd been dancing ballroom for years—and managed to roll him off her, his body thumping hard against the floor. Her instincts said,
fight, pro
tect yourself
.

She leapt from the bed and landed on him, her knees striking his chest. Then she reached for the phone—and she would have smashed it into his head if he hadn't jolted his hips and knocked her sideways.

He grabbed her wrists and pinned her flat on her back. Leaned over her.

And in the dim hints of dawn, she recognized him. The spiky hair. The wiry frame that was working hard to keep her trapped. And her fear quickly turned to anger.

“You really are crazy,” Blue muttered. “You need to get the hell out of here,
now
.”

“Get off me!” she said, struggling to bring her leg up so she could knee him somewhere sensitive.

“I'm trying to keep you from getting killed.”

“Yeah, right—”

The busted door had long since swung to a close, clicking almost shut. Now it opened again and Freddie's worried head peeked in. “Is everything—?”

When he spotted them on the floor, he hurried inside, looking mortified. “Blue, what are you doing?”

“You know what I'm doing.”

“Get your stupid friend off me!” Mira said.

“You're the stupid one,” Blue told her. “Because you're still here. Pretty sure I told you to leave.”

I hate you,
Mira thought, glaring up at him.

Blue's chain-saw pendant hung down as he hovered over her, the silver blade dangling in front of her face, taunting her. She wanted to knock it out of the way, but he had her hands. The floor that had felt so plush last night was hard under her shoulders; and in her skimpy, makeshift pajamas—fine for living in a house full of women, not for being assaulted by strange boys—she felt almost naked.

Freddie dropped down beside them, distressed. “Let go of her, Blue; that looks really bad.”

“Feel free to stop him,” Mira said, “instead of frowning at me like a sad puppy.”

“Hey!” Freddie said, looking like a sadder puppy.

“I'm not going to molest you,” Blue said.

“You're molesting my wrist,” Mira said. “I don't want you touching me.”

“I didn't want you to knee me in the lungs, so I guess we're even.”

“We're far from even,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Back to business,” Blue said. “You need to get out of this hotel—and not come back. And if I have to carry you out, cart you to the Palace Casino or a Motel 6, I will. If I have to hurt you, I will—I'm
not
nice. So don't test me unless you want proof of that.”

Mira answered him with words Bliss and Elsa never let her say. Blue smiled, like she'd told him he was a talented assailant.

Freddie looked stricken. “Ladies shouldn't talk like that.”

“Oh, shut up!” she snapped.

“Be nice to Freddie,” Blue said. “He has a crush on you.”

“Maybe
I'm
not nice either,” she said.

“Fine,” Blue said. “Be mean to Freddie. But don't blame me if a lovesick sparrow pecks your eyes out. You've been warned.”

Blue released her and got to his feet, watching her carefully, like he expected her to lash out. “Get your stuff. Then we're getting out of here.”

“Those sparrows wouldn't hurt anyone,” Freddie said. “A blue jay might. Or a hummingbird. But never a—”

Blue cut him off so he could yell at her. “Hurry up. You've got two minutes before I pack your stuff for you.”

“You're crazy,” Mira said, pulling on her hoodie and zipping it up, since she wasn't wearing a bra and she'd had enough of these guys staring at her. “First, you offer to comp my room. Then you try to drag me off to some sleazy hotel. And when your brother is actually
nice
to me, you freak out and assault me. What part of that makes sense?”

Blue shook his head. “If I had put you up somewhere, you wouldn't have met my brother. I don't want him around you. End of story.”

“I can't believe you're jealous of your own brother,” she muttered.

“Jealous?” Blue narrowed his eyes, looking angry finally. It gave his face a different cast from the cocky obnoxiousness he usually wore. “You have
no idea
what you're getting yourself into. Now do what I say before I do something I'll regret.”

Mira shoved her feet into her flip-flops, huffing like a bull, she was so furious. “I doubt you regret anything. You'd need a conscience for that.”

“Yeah, yeah—let's go.” Blue put his hand out and shoved her lightly between the shoulder blades. “You don't belong here. You have no freaking clue.”

Blue and Freddie escorted Mira through the Dream's lobby and out the front door, where a valet stood waiting to usher guests in and out of cabs. He saw Blue and motioned for the hotel car—a black Lexus SUV—and saw them all in safely. Mira wondered if it would make a difference to the valet if she announced she was a hostage. She guessed no.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“Take us to the Deneuve estate,” Blue said.

“Viv isn't going to want to see us this early,” Freddie said.

“I don't care what Viv wants.”

“Do you ever care what anyone wants?” Mira asked sharply.

“No,” Blue said.

Blue lowered the windows and slouched on the wide leather seat, his eyes closing, his body going limp like water—like he was determined to grab a few minutes of sleep. Mira had the urge to hit him while he was vulnerable, to get back at him for holding her down—but it seemed absurd to start fighting in front of the hotel's driver.

The whole morning was absurd. She'd never felt so angry, or aggressive, in her entire life. She didn't normally want to hit people, or even yell at them—because normally you could reason with people. And if you couldn't, you could avoid them. But Blue was impossible. He was so rude and belligerent and … relentless about it.

Mira settled back and did her best to calm down. Maybe Felix would punch Blue for her later.

They rode in near silence, Freddie periodically asking the driver whether he wanted to hear their band's CD, the driver always answering with a firm no. Tall buildings and silvery sheets of ocean gave way to roads thick with magnolia and oak trees as they left the city behind. A weedy green smell infused the car, so strong Mira could taste it.

By the time they reached the Deneuve estate—a white mansion located on the edge of a wooded golf course—Mira had gone from furious to annoyed, and was heading toward hopeful.
Viv
sounded like a girl's name. Viv probably wouldn't jump on her or order her around; she might even take her side and yell at Blue and Freddie—especially since they were bothering her so early in the morning.

As they climbed out of the car and headed toward the house, Mira saw that a well-built, dark-haired teenage guy was pushing a lawn mower across the sloping yard, easing it around the oak trees that punctuated the front lawn. Sweat slicked his chest, and bits of cut grass flecked his light brown skin. He wore a pair of maroon basketball shorts with a T-shirt tucked into the waistband.

He shut off the mower when he saw them—and scowled.

Mira hoped that wasn't Viv. But on the bright side: someone else was unhappy to see Blue and Freddie. The world was already making more sense.

Blue hiked up the hill as if the guy's pissed-off expression had energized him. Mira hurried to keep up.

“Would you like me to carry your bag?” Freddie asked. He looked a little guilty—but hopeful, too.

“No.” She twisted the strap around her wrist so he couldn't take it from her. “Don't do me any favors.”

“But I'd
like
to do you favors.”

She glared at him.
“No.”

As they drew closer to the house, a woman rose into view on the veranda. She wore a sheer pink robe trimmed with marabou feathers, and held a martini glass full of what looked like orange juice. Her large, very perky—probably very
expensive
—breasts rose from the neckline of her negligee. They didn't so much as wiggle when she waved hello.

“Is that Viv?” Mira asked.

Blue burst out laughing. “You're lucky she didn't hear you say that.”

“That's Regina, Viv's wicked stepmother,” Freddie said. “Er, stepmother,” he corrected. “
Normal stepmother
is what I meant.”

“Um … okay,” Mira said.

“And that's Henley,” Blue said as they rounded the hill, gesturing to the lawn-mowing guy. “He works here as a gardener. Among other things.”

When they reached Henley, he was wiping the sweat from his face with his T-shirt. He was their age, seventeen or so, but his forehead was already creased, like he'd spent years being on guard, waiting for something bad to happen.

“Why'd you have to bring Knight here?” Henley asked. His voice was deep and gritty, like the boys' at school who flunked everything but auto shop and were perpetually pissed off.

“Relax, Silva,” Blue said. “Don't be paranoid.”

“Henley thinks I want to date Viv,” Freddie whispered to Mira—a bit too loudly to be subtle. “But I don't. I haven't made a single overture.”

“Who's this?” Henley asked, eyeing Mira now.

“No one important,” Blue said. “Just a random seduceable girl I'm protecting.”

“I'm Mira,” she said, sticking her hand out.

Henley's hot, sweaty hand engulfed hers. His eyes were narrowed and he still looked angry, but it didn't seem directed at her. “Nice to meet you, I guess. Too bad it's in the company of this asshole.”

“Viv's alive, right?” Blue said. “You didn't cut her heart out?”

“What is wrong with you?” Mira snapped. “That's disgusting.”

Henley's eyes were hard, his gaze heavy. “You're lucky I don't have an axe, Valentine.”

“Aren't we all,” Blue said. “So: Viv?”

“What do you want with her?”

Henley was the gardener, but he behaved like a gatekeeper. Mira wondered what that was about. Maybe he was Viv's boyfriend—or wished he was.

Blue shrugged. “I needed to get Mirabrat out of the hotel. Felix latched on to her and she thinks he's dreamy.”

“Oh, shut up,” Mira said. “You don't know anything about me.”

“Anyway,” Blue went on, “she doesn't have a place to stay, and I felt like bothering Viv. It seemed like a good idea when I first thought of it.”

Blue glanced toward Viv's stepmother, who was leaning over the veranda, dipping her finger in her martini glass and peering at the group. “Is Regina watching to make sure the lawn gets done, or is she standing by in case you need her to lick the sweat off your chest?”

Henley bristled. “She just likes having breakfast outside.”

“That's what I figured,” Freddie said amicably. “She seems like a nice woman. Aside from the wickedness.”

“Shut up, Knight,” Henley growled.

Eventually, the four of them went around back, where Viv's balcony was.

The balcony overlooked a small garden made up of a stone well flanked by fruit trees. Birds dotted the branches like ornaments on a Christmas tree—until they saw Freddie, at which point they rushed to surround him, flapping above his head like a floating crown. Chipmunks emerged from the underbrush to squeak at his feet.

Freddie held out his hand, and a sparrow perched on his finger. He laughed a pure laugh, and called, “Mira, look!” Then he beckoned her closer, saying, “Don't worry, this one won't peck your eyes out.” But Mira kept her distance, too stunned to move.

The woodland creatures ignored Henley and Blue, but they couldn't get enough of Freddie. It wasn't a scary sight, but it was
wrong
. It went against nature. Mira squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that the adoring swarm of animals would disappear.

But when she opened her eyes, the animals were still there. Freddie was still laughing that sweet, ticklish laugh. And Henley was scowling at him like Freddie was a being of pure evil.

“Different mark, different destiny,” Blue was saying to Henley, his voice low and calm. His eyes cut quickly toward Mira—then away.