Shattered Secrets (Book of Red #1) (37 page)

Her eyes watered, but she didn’t move, didn’t spew hatred at him like I wanted to, didn’t allow tears to fall. She didn’t do anything.

“You can leave now.” Derick grabbed Mark by the shirt and hauled him through the room, then pushed him out the door. “Enjoy the prunes. At least they’re not as shriveled as your balls.”

Megan stood in front of me, unmoving, with accusation in her red eyes. Her silence broke my heart.

“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing sorry could never be enough for what the future held. “When it happened, neither of us even knew what the vision was. I couldn’t look at you afterward, or Will.”

“So that’s why you ran away from the party.” Will tugged on Megan’s shirt, gently forcing her to sit next to him. “It happened there, didn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“Would you have believed us?” Derick remained standing against the door, probably an attempt to keep Mark out if he chose to barge in again. “What we are is hard enough for us to believe, but we’ve experienced things we can’t deny. Our plan, if you could call it that since we didn’t get a chance to talk about it, was to tell you what we could and then stay away from you. But then your dad showed up and Megan came to the beach—there hasn’t been any time for us to figure out how to tell you anything since then either.”

Will nodded. “So how does it happen? Mark says there’s no avoiding it. I want to know how I’m going to die.”

All the color drained from Megan’s face. No one should know how and when they’re going to die. That would make living so much more difficult, being afraid all the time, aware that all plans for the future are off-limits. Redness rimmed Will’s eyes. He pulled Megan closer and rested his cheek on top of her head.

Any other time and Megan would have smiled at the public affection he showed her.

I couldn’t help but feel guilty that because of us, she didn’t get to celebrate or enjoy this moment with the guy she’d pined after for so long.

“Do you really want to know what we saw?” Derick, giving up his post by the door, returned to my side and took my hand. “Because it’s not much to go on.”

“I want to know.” Megan wiped her cheeks with a tissue. “Maybe it’ll be easier, knowing.”

He took a deep breath and squeezed my fingers. “We were in your pool, and there was a sudden explosion—a huge blast. It was dark out, and fire burned everywhere. Houses, trees, boats. People were running and screaming, all going in one direction. So Abby and I climbed out of the pool and followed them—”

“You followed people in a vision?” Will sat up straight, his interest growing.

“We had no idea what was happening,” I said, “We thought the vision was real.”

“Everyone stood in a tight circle around something on the beach behind your house. When we cut through the crowd, there you two were. Dead. And Aedan Mordha looked right at Abby and said ‘you did this’. That was it.”

You did this
.

Those words would haunt me forever. Will and Megan stared at us, wide-eyed, shocked, maybe even a little afraid.

“I don’t want to kill you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Derick squeezed my fingers again. “Obviously the vision is a little strange, since we have no intention of going swimming in your pool again. But from what I’ve read about people with our ability, it seems there’s no escaping what we saw.”

“So you want to send us to the very place you saw us killed? That makes no sense!” Will narrowed his eyes. “Why not just keep us here? Obviously your job is to protect humans, and you’ve seen us die at my house! We’re not leaving.”

“Will…”

He grabbed Megan by the hand and ran from the room, shouting up the stairs that this was his boat and if anyone had a problem with it, they could find their own.

“That went well,” Derick said, getting up to follow. He kept his head down but peered at me from the corner of his eyes.

“Oh, sure. We tell our friends we envisioned them die and suggest sending them to the very location we saw it happen.” I sighed. “We look like assholes. And what the hell is up with Mark? He’s acting like a freaking crazed lunatic.”

“You’re the one who used to play Matchbox cars with him. You tell me.” Derick pulled me against him, his warmth enveloping me. “Before we go back upstairs… are you okay?”

I laid my head on his chest and listened to him breathe, taking comfort from him. I definitely wasn’t okay, not now, not after so much of this felt like my fault. “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

I laughed, despite my desire to wail. “You’re right. I’m not.”

The door to the room I’d spent most of the day crying in opened, and Mark stepped out. His eyes widened, then he quickly regained his composure and grinned like the moron he was, clasping his clenched fists behind his back. “Hey, guys. Can you believe this ship? All these huge cabinets stocked with Scotch and Brandy, and flat screen TVs are on nearly every wall. And they have every single movie channel known to man on them!”

“That’s what you’ve been doing?” Derick tightened his hands into fists, the muscles in his forearm flexing. “Fávlosi abducted Abby, they killed her parents, we’ve seen Will and Megan die, and you’re sneaking around getting drunk and trying to watch fucking football?”

“You have a better suggestion?”

“You’re damn right I do.”

Before I could stop him, Derick surged forward and slammed his fist into Mark’s jaw. He stumbled back but caught himself with the wall, then pounced on Derick with the speed and grace of a mountain lion and knocked him to the ground. They rolled around on the floor, their strengths somehow matched, their faces red.

“Don’t!” I couldn’t stand watching them punch each other, the instant splotches of red on their cheeks, the bloody lips, the grunting and everything that screamed barbaric men. But I couldn’t stand between them either, not without getting hurt.

Derick found an advantage and flipped Mark onto his back. Straddling his chest, Derick pressed his knees on Mark’s biceps, hands at his throat. “Is everyone in Kalós like you? Arrogant and reckless?”

“I’d… love… to find out,” Mark wheezed, “Can’t… breathe…”

“Let him go, Derick.” I placed my hand on Derick’s shoulder, trying to calm him.

He looked up at me, blood trailing down his nose, and his expression softened.

“Please let him go.” From the corner of my eyes, I saw Mr. Snellings and Mr. Crawford barreling down the stairs. “Please, Derick. Before this gets worse.”

With a glance down, Derick released the hold he had on Mark and stood—

And Mark swung his legs around, knocking Derick into me. I fell into the door and smacked my head on the knob. Hard. Everything around me buzzed. Little sparks flashed before my eyes. A buzzing noise filled my ears.

I heard them calling my name. I felt their hands on my shoulders. But I didn’t want their help. Shakily feeling my way up the wall, I got to my feet and glared at them. “What the hell—?”

The ship lurched to the right, and my head collided with the wall again. Somewhere below us an alarm sounded, and from somewhere else I heard a scream, shrill and piercing. Darkness assaulted the edge of my vision, then there was nothing.

Derick

very nerve in my body grated. I wanted to tear Mark apart, but he disappeared when the lights went out. As did everything else.

Sirens sounded all over the ship, and emergency lights blinked in the hall. Through the shadows, I saw Abby lying on the floor.

Not moving.

Eyes closed.

Kneeling beside her, I checked for a pulse.

Thank God
. Abby’s heart beat slowly, but the fact her heart was beating gave me hope she’d be okay. I slid my arms under her—

“Mark,
no
. Please. This isn’t you.” Mrs. Snellings’ voice trembled, a sound I’d never once heard. Not that I spent much time around the woman, but knowing who we are—and who she was… the fear coming from her traveled right into the pit of my stomach.

“Stop telling me who I am!” Mark yelled. “You know nothing, especially about me. You come here, acting like you have all the answers, and you’re just as clueless as Derick.”

I picked up Abby and ran to one of the bedrooms, her limp arms and legs bobbing with every step. Something was about to happen, and I had to get her out of harm’s way. Tucking the blanket around her, I kissed her forehead and whispered, “I’m sorry you keep getting hurt.”

“Please, Mark, stay back. Think about what you’re doing.” My dad’s normally calm disposition disappeared along with Mrs. Snellings’.

“I’m saving Abigail. I’m helping. What is it that you’re doing?”

Leaving Abby here, unconscious, seemed wrong. But I had to see whatever had Mark’s mom and my dad so upset, what had Mark so upset. I snuck down the hall with my back to the wall until I got to the stairs. Once I peeked around the corner and saw…
no
.

The moonlight poured into the cabin, illuminating Mark with a knife in his hand. He leaned forward, poised to launch himself at his mother and father.

I shook my head.

What was he doing? And four against one. Why were they afraid?

Mark turned his head toward me, a cocky, crazed look on his face. He took a step in my direction, and I took a step back.

I needed a gun.

Or something.

He took another step and growled, low and thunderous.

Mr. Snellings dropped to his knees, a flare gun aimed at his son’s chest, fingers trembling over the trigger. “Please. If you kill him, you know what it will do to her. Please, Mark. I don’t want to lose you.”

Kill me
?

Over the last few days, weird things happened. But this?

This was the weirdest.

Mark… a killer?

He lifted his booted foot, trembling, a maniac on the edge and failing to hold himself together, about to take another step when Mrs. Snellings fell next to her husband, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“She’ll never forgive you. Abigail loves Derick.” She choked on a sob. “We can help you. There are ways to reverse what’s been done to you. Please, honey. Please don’t hurt that girl any more than she’s already been hurt. Spare Derick.”

“Abigail is mine,
mine
. She doesn’t need Derick. Why can’t
you
see that?” Mark’s lip curled up, and he turned and launched himself at his parents just as the red flare illuminated the room. They screamed and shrieked as he released guttural, awful screams, pounding his knife into them. He tossed the knife and opted for breaking their bones with his fist. The snapping sounds made me sick, made me unable to move, to stop staring as this… as—
what was this?
—ripped them apart.

His parents.

Mark.

“Derick, get Abby and bring her to the life raft. I just sent Will and Megan outside,” my dad yelled above the sounds of gurgles and Mark’s insane moaning—I wanted to cover my ears and pretend I was anywhere but here. I wasn’t trained for this. Not ready for blood and fights. “And hurry!”

Pretend
. Hurry.

I had a plan.