Last Rite (8 page)

“Yeah, thanks,” she says. “Cream, no sugar.” Then she turns to me with raised eyebrows and an impish grin. “They cook too?”

“Good thing,” I answer. “If it was up to me, we’d starve.”

“Or just survive on eye candy. One or the other…” Faith mutters under her breath with a glance at the boys.

My face feels warm, and I’m sure I’m blushing as my eyes flick to Luc.

“So, Gabriel says I’m supposed to help you train,” she says loud enough for the boys to hear.

I shrug, pulling my eyes back to Faith. “I guess. Do you do judo?”

She nods. “There’s a martial arts studio on Key Largo … or, really, more of a mixed martial arts gym. I work out there.” She turns to Gabe. “I’ll take her up tomorrow?”

“You’ve checked this place out?” he asks Faith.

“I’ve been going there for years. She’ll be fine.”

He lowers himself into his chair, sliding Faith’s mug toward her, and drums his fingers on the table, contemplating. I catch myself hoping he’ll say yes. I’ve missed the outlet of judo. At just the thought of being on the mat, slamming someone to the ground, something heavy lifts off my shoulders.

“You said she needs to train, Gabriel,” Faith interjects.

His chair creaks as he pushes into the back of it, staring hard at Faith.

“Just let them go,” Luc says from the stove, sliding Faith’s omelet from the pan onto a plate.

Gabe leans onto the table and folds his arms, eyeing Faith. “You’re sure it’s safe.”

“Yes,” she says, rolling her eyes, but then smiles at Luc as he places the plate in front of her and slides into his seat.

Please
, I think, crossing my fingers.

It’s only when Gabe’s face softens that I realize how hard I’m pushing the thought. Why does my Sway only seem to work when I don’t mean to use it?

“Once,” Gabe says, his eyes shifting between us. “We’ll try it once. But any sign of trouble—”

“There won’t be trouble,” Faith interrupts through a mouthful of eggs. “This is really good,” she adds with a glance at Luc, pointing to her plate with her fork.

I try to ignore the stone that forms in my heart at the way Luc smiles back.

“Fine,” Gabe concedes.

Faith flashes me a victorious grin and high-fives me across the table. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at ten.” She stands and lifts her empty plate from the table.

Luc looks up from his plate. “If you’re really going for a run, I was going out after breakfast. You mind company?”

She smiles at him and I suddenly wish I’d taken up running as a tendril of jealousy slips out of my black pit. “That’d be great. There are some good footpaths that cross to the other side of the island. It’s really quiet over there. I could show you those, if you want.”

“Sounds good,” he says with a raise of his eyebrow, and I see Faith’s cheeks turn pink.

The rest of us stand from the table, bringing our dishes to the sink, and I start to fill it. But then I realize Luc is standing next to me, ready to dry. I look up at him. “Go. I got it this time.” He holds my gaze for a moment, and I feel my insides flip at the intensity of his.

“We need to talk when I get back,” he says.

It’s not a request. It’s a demand. And it makes my insides ache. “Okay.”

His lips press into a hard line as he nods then pushes away from the counter. I breathe in his cinnamon as he brushes past me. He pauses as he passes Faith. “I’ll be right out,” he says, heading to his room.

*   *   *

When they’re gone, and I’ve finished with the dishes, I turn to find Gabe near the door. “I’ll check back later,” he says, tugging the door open and stepping through. But before he closes it, his gaze finds mine, and in that brief second, he can’t hide the pain—or longing—in his eyes. Then he’s gone.

I trudge to my room, stick my iPod on the speakers, and drop into the soft brown armchair in the corner, curling into a ball as Breaking Benjamin sings for someone to show me a sign. I feel so nervous. I’m not sure what Luc means to say to me. Is he leaving? Staying? I don’t really know which I’m hoping for.

Breathe
.

I close my eyes and my heart stings as my mind shows me what Luc and I had. I see us at the quarry, kissing under the stars; Luc, grease smeared across his face, under the Mustang; Luc and me in his bed. Here behind my closed door, I mourn our loss and let the tears fall.

*   *   *

It’s over an hour later when the front door clicks open. I listen as Luc’s bare feet pad across the family room on the way to his room. He’s breathing hard from the workout and I imagine the sweat trickling down his chest, between his shoulder blades, over his lips. I close my eyes and push the image out of my head. The bathroom door clicks shut and I hear the shower start.

A reprieve.

I have a few more minutes to pretend that this might not be the end of everything.

I stand and yank a brush through my wild hair, tying it back in a knot, and then just stare at myself in the mirror over the dresser.

Could you stay together … get married and have kids and all that?

Grandpa’s question rolls around in my head, and I remember the hopeful look Luc wore when he answered. Luc was the first person I dared let in—the only boy I’ve ever really loved. My heart pounds with the memory of what it felt like to be that close to another person. I wanted a life with him more than anything. But what I know without a doubt is that a normal life with a normal family isn’t in my future.

If there was some way I could give Luc that life, I would. I want him to have that, even though it can’t be with me. I saw how he looked at Faith. Could I keep loving him—keep him mortal—so he could love someone else?

When I hear the shower shut off, I take one last look at myself then head to the family room and settle into the couch. The bathroom door opens a few minutes later, and Luc steps through with a towel wrapped around his hips. The black serpent tattoo around his upper arm stands out more sharply against skin a few shades paler than I remember, and he’s a little thinner. But what really draws my eyes are the pinkish-white scars crisscrossing his chest and arms. I have the sudden urge to kiss the angry burn on his ribs and make it all better.

I want to make everything better for him.

“I’ll just…” He gestures awkwardly toward his room. “Let me get dressed.”

“’Kay.”

He hesitates and his lips part to say something else, but then he looks away and strides across the room, disappearing behind his door.

I can’t stop thinking about what he wants to say—what I’m gonna say.

Figure out what you want, Frannie.

I want things to be how they were before Lilith.

I push the image of Lilith in Luc’s bed out of my head as I walk to the window and peer past Faith’s, down the beach.

At first, my mind is elsewhere and I don’t notice them. But then I realize Faith is out there, at her front porch. And she’s not alone.

Gabe is sitting with her.

They look deep in conversation, and, as I watch, she leans her shoulder into his and I see him nod and turn his head in my direction.

I tuck behind the window frame just as Luc’s door swings open.

Luc stands there in his T-shirt and jeans, curling his bare toes into the wooden floor and staring at me, looking more tentative than I’ve ever seen him. He’s usually so sure of himself. A true Creature of Pride.

LUC

I stand in the doorway, staring at Frannie and trying to remember how to breathe. I spent my entire run on the beach with Faith totally ignoring her and working up the courage to do this … thinking of just the right words. Frannie thinking I’m interested in Faith can’t hurt, but I can still screw this up in so many ways.

I pull a deep breath, set my jaw, and walk to the couch. I sit on the edge, elbows on knees. She follows and lowers herself cautiously onto the other side.

“I wanted you to know I’m only here because I have to be.” I work to keep my gaze hard and not let her see it as all my insides collapse on themselves.

She continues to stare at me, her expression blank, not sure what to make of what I just said.

“This is bigger than just you, Frannie. Everything is at stake. I’ve thought about just bringing you to Him and getting it over with, but, unfortunately, I seem to have grown a conscience, and the blood of all humanity on my hands is a little more than I’m willing to deal with at the moment. So, my only alternative is to stay here.” I push back into the cushions, struggling to keep my voice even. “Against my will.”

For a long minute her only response is a distinct pallor as the blood drains from her face. I don’t even see her chest rise and fall, making me wonder if she’s having some kind of a seizure. I hold my breath, waiting for some reaction.

Finally, she exhales, long and slow, and her eyes shift to her fingers, where they pick at the fringe of her shorts. “Maybe Gabe can do something … find somewhere you could go.” Her voice is flat and her eyes look hollow—empty.

“A prison is a prison,” I say, my voice hard. “Though somewhere away from you might be preferable.” And more likely to achieve the desired results. Out of sight, out of mind.

For the briefest of instants, she seems to deflate, like someone pricked her with a pin. But then she shifts on the couch and looks me straight in the eye. “I’ll talk to him.”

I stand from the couch, my gut twisting so hard that I almost can’t get upright. “Please do,” I say, relief clear in my voice knowing that it’s done. I only need to hold it together for another minute.

She pulls herself to her feet, where she sways dangerously for a second before catching her balance. She nods without looking at me, then turns for the front door and slips through.

I close my eyes and sink back to the cushions, my head in my hands, fighting back the despair threatening to take me under. I’ve just murdered the only thing that made my existence tolerable. The only thing that ever truly meant anything to me. But this is how it has to be if I’m going to help her.

FRANNIE

I feel totally dead inside, as dry as the sand under my feet as I stumble out onto the beach. I can’t believe I let Luc blindside me with this. I knew he would probably leave eventually, but I guess, deep down, I believed that, despite everything, he still loved me. I thought I saw something in his eyes when he looked at me.

I was wrong.

And it’s good. He’ll be safe if he’s away from me.

I glance up the beach and see Faith is still sitting on her porch, staring out over the ocean, but she’s alone now. I look past Faith’s, farther up the beach, and see Gabe lying on his back in the sand at the edge of the surf, knees bent and his forearm over his face.

I start to go to him—to tell him that Luc wants out. But my feet slow before I get too far. I have to stop running to Gabe every time I’m upset. It’s not fair to him. I don’t feel so bad going to him when it’s the fate of mankind stuff, but I need to learn to deal with my
own
stuff on my own. With one more glance in his direction, I turn and walk the other way.

I can’t totally stop the tears, but I’m able to keep them mostly at bay by thinking about what comes next. Gabe says I’m gonna have to fight, and I know he’s right. He wants me to work on my Sway, so I do.

I walk out onto a rocky breakwater and lower myself onto a slippery boulder. A family is parked on the beach just up from where I am. They’ve got their red and white umbrella spread wide, but the only thing under it is a radio. From it, the pounding rhythm of the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil” wafts to where I sit.

Grandpa’s anthem.

A wet, aching lump forms in the back of my throat, and I close my eyes, remembering Sundays in his garage under whatever Mustang we were restoring.

I miss him so much.

I miss our talks and the comfortable silence in between. I miss the smell of exhaust and the feel of grease on my hands. But most of all I miss knowing that, no matter what kind of trouble I got myself into, I could always go to him.

I need him now.

I scrub away the tears leaking over my lashes and focus on Beach Family. Mom and Dad are working on their tans, sprawled on a double beach towel, as a little towheaded boy kicks his sister’s sand castle over. She shoves him away and turns another bucket of packed sand onto the mound—which the boy promptly kicks over.

The boy reminds me of Matt, all blond curls and dimples. I think of him and my sisters, of how much I miss them, and focus on the little boy, telling him he loves his sister, just like I love mine.

She flips another bucket, and he steps forward, as if to kick it, but then he sinks to his knees and starts to fill the bucket instead. As I watch, the two of them turn the four corners of the castle and start to build walls between them. By the time I stand and move down the beach toward the cottage an hour later, it’s a masterpiece. And even though I didn’t build it myself, it still feels like an accomplishment.

I check in with myself as I meander up the beach toward the cottage and find I’m surprisingly okay. I’m even feeling a little proud of myself. My heart aches, ’cause it always does, but, for the first time in a long time, I also feel the tiniest ray of hope. I’m dying to tell Gabe that I’ve been practicing my Sway … and it might have even worked.

6

Trial by Fire

GABE

As I sit in the sand, looking out over the ocean, I see bloodred waves crest and roll onto shore. The vision was too strong, too tied to Frannie’s terror, for me to fully block it. Her nightmares are getting worse—more real.

Those are demons I can’t protect her from, as much as I might want to.

I lie back in the sand and close my eyes, giving myself up to the Light. The deep throbbing ache in my chest as I slide between planes is worse this time, and I stiffen and hold my breath. I’ve let it go too far. Human flesh was never meant to be ripped through planes. If I continue to let Frannie change me, soon I won’t be able to shift at all. At the thought, the ache in my chest intensifies. Because, as much as I need to, I don’t want to give this up—this concrete proof that Frannie wants me.