Authors: Conner Kressley
“Is that what he told you?” Mulva scoffed. “Prophecies are tricky and troublesome things. They don’t always mean what they say and, even when they do, things never happen the way you expect. Do you really think all of this, the nature of your birth, what happened to you back in that dustbowl town you called home, is just a coincidence? You are the Bloodmoon. You know that just as well as I. And every second you walk this earth is another minute closer to its end. You being here, even locked away as you are, is just tempting fate. “
“You know, back in the real world, we judge people by what they do, not by what they might do,” I said through gritted teeth. Her words had angered me again.
“Then isn’t it a pity that you’re no longer in that real world,” Mulva answered. “You’re a girl now, but one day, you’ll be a monster. If, that is, you’re allowed to live that long.”
“What are you-“
“Your head should be mounted on a spike, young lady; plain and simple. And, if by fate’s hand, I had even a wisp of the power I once did, it would be.”
“And you call me the monster!” I yelled. My words echoed, bouncing down the empty hallway. “Have you ever thought that it was people like you that make the monsters? Maybe if you showed a little compassion, maybe if you treated people like actual human beings instead of chess pieces in some game!”
“What is life if not a game, Bloodmoon? You win or you lose, but you always have to play” Her arms were still folded. Her face was still painted with that bitchy Dahlia expression.
“It’s life, you lunatic,” I said, and then ran.
I didn’t look back at Mulva. She probably thought I was going to try to make a break for it, to try and get out of Weathersby and go out on my own. She’d have loved that, me making good on all the horrible things Dahlia had said about me. I wasn’t having it, though. I didn’t have anywhere to go and now, thanks to Mulva’s cutting words, I had something to prove. I slammed the door of my room. Grabbing a chair, I wedged it against the handle so that the door couldn’t be opened from the outside. I might have been trapped in here, but now everyone else was trapped out. I didn’t want anybody coming in, not if they were like Mulva.
I melted into my bed, my hands drawing up into fists at my sides. Who did she think she was? Who did any of them think they were, strutting around with their doomsday games and prophecies? Maybe I’d become a seer too. Maybe I’d close my eyes tight and, when I opened them, I’d tell them all that they were the ones who were going to destroy the world and that the only way to save it would be for them to march off a cliff like lemmings, like stupid cult member lemmings.
Bitter tears stung behind my eyes. I muttered curse words into my pillow, cursing the Breakers, cursing Allister Leeman, cursing the prophecies that they’d allowed to take away their free will, cursing fate, cursing myself, and cursing my mom for not being here and for sending me to Weathersby in the first place.
How could she lie to me? How could she let me think everything was so simple when, all the time, we were dancing on top of razor blades? My stomach started to churn. This whole thing was making me sick. I wanted to cry, to scream but I was too tired. I was sick, fed up, and exhausted.
I must have fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, the sun was up, peeking over the tree line and into my room. It wasn’t the morning rays that woke me, though. It was something a lot more peculiar. I hadn’t heard a cell phone since the night I came to Weathersby. Though Owen had been glued to his back in Crestview, it seemed the rest of the Breakers didn’t use them, at least not in Weathersby. It made sense. Who would they have talked to? For all the conversations I had been in with them, none of the Breakers ever brought up their families or friends back home in the Hourglass. They rarely talked about the past at all. Even while I was skimming Owen’s memories, I never felt any sense of longing on his part to be back home. It was like they had been programmed not to make those sorts of lasting connections. Maybe they thought that sort of thing might make them weak. Still, as my eyes fluttered open against my soft down pillow, I recognized the unmistakable ring of a phone.
I leaned up, gathering myself. That had been the first time I had actually slept since being locked away and, it turned out, three days of sleeplessness had taken its toll. I shook my head, forcing myself to wake up. I had never been a morning person, and today was no exception. The phone rang again. It was soft and distant, but it was definitely a phone. I stood. Something tickled at the back of my mind, something the girl in the tower had written to me.
Mind the ring.
“Stupid seers,” I muttered. The ringing seemed to be coming from under my bed. I hit the floor and, pushing back the bed ruffle, saw the silver briefcase my mother gave me the day she died. I pulled it out. The ringing got louder. I popped it open, remembering the cell phone she had placed inside beside the huge stacks of cash and my ‘turned-out-to-be-fake’ asthma medication.
The phone rang and vibrated against the case. This was the phone my mother left for me. Who-who on earth would have the number? I grabbed it slowly like it was a bomb about to explode or a piece of alien technology.
The phone’s screen lit up.
UNKNOWN CALLER
I flipped it open and held it wordlessly to my ear.
“Are you there?” The voice was light and flirty, but undeniably male. “Cresta, talk to me, baby.”
I went through a rolodex of voices in my mind, trying to place the one on the other end of the line. I was drawing a blank, but the way he addressed me; baby. There had only ever been one man in the whole world who had called me that. But it didn’t make any sense. It couldn’t be. Could it?
“D-dad?”
The laugh that came across the line, cold and relishing, gutted me like a fish on a hook.
“Oh baby, which daddy would that be, the dead one or the one you’ve never met?”
After a few beats of silence, the voice continued. “It doesn’t matter, baby. Soon enough, I’ll be your daddy. I’ll be the only man you’ll ever need.”
I thought my heart was going to explode into a thousand pain filled shards as I realized exactly who it was I was talking to.
“Oh God,” I choked out. “Allister Leeman.”
Chapter 14
The Future Becomes Her
Bile rose, burning my throat as I realized who I was talking to. Allister Leeman, the Raven; he was a fringe lunatic who even the crazies that surrounded me considered to be insane. If Dahlia, Echo, and the rest were to be believed, it was Allister who set this whole thing in motion. He was the one who sent Owen, and God knows how many others, to spy on me. He was the ringleader who sent the men who blew my house up. He was the reason my mother was dead and, worst of all, the nutjob wanted to marry me.
“Raven.” My voice was shrill echoing over the phone.
“That’s a formal way to address one’s fiancé, don’t you think?” I could hear the sleazy smile spread across his face.
“Go to hell!” I said, my fingers wrapping tightly around the phone.
“I will. Haven’t you heard? You’re the one who’s going to show me the way.”
“The only thing I’d like to show you is the broad side of a bat,” I stood. Frantic, I started pacing the room.
“Good,” he answered. “Harness that anger, baby. It’s going to serve you so well in the future.”
“You wasted your time, you head case. I’m not who you think I am.”
“You’re exactly who I think you are. I can hear it in that saucy little tone. You’re a sparkplug. Though, I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less, given who you are.”
“I’m not the Bloodmoon! Now just leave me alone!”
“Careful,” his voice took a low, serious tone. “You don’t want to make too much noise. If you raise suspicion, your jailers might take your phone away, and you don’t want that. I promise, you’re going to want to hear what I’ve got to say.”
How did he know I was locked away? Did he have eyes here too, a traitor the Breakers didn’t know about? Did he have a secret surveillance system? Was he watching me now? No. The Breakers were smart; the smartest people in the world. There was no way some crazy loser could bypass their security. And nobody, no matter how skilled they were, could fake out Echo. That dude was a walking lie detector.
No. Allister Leeman was just using his brain. He knew that Dahlia would find out the truth behind the explosion. And from there, it’s just common sense to think they’d do everything in their power to keep me from fulfilling the prophecy, even if the idea of me killing someone was just about as likely as peanut butter falling from the sky. Still, I wasn’t going to let him paint me as a victim.
“I don’t have jailers. I chose this. I’m going to prove to everyone that I’m not some killer,” I answered.
“No darling. You’re so much more than that.” I heard the smile creep back across his face. “And I don’t appreciate the tone. If you take a moment to listen, you’ll find that I’m on your side. In fact, I think I might be the only true friend you have in all of this.”
“You killed my mother,” the words slipped from my mouth at about the same time that tears fled from my eyes. “You tried to kill me. You destroyed my life. We are not friends. We’re nothing. I hate you, and one day really soon, after I prove I’m not the stupid Bloodmoon, I’m going to make you pay.”
“Good. I love that fire in your voice. There’s a thin line between love and hate, you know. And darling, we are destined to cross it.”
“I could never love you!” I was standing on my bed now; standing on top of it like I was six years old.
“And why’s that, because you’ve fallen for my little chess piece? How is Owen; still engaged to that annoyingly perfect girl?”
He was trying to hurt me, to twist the Merrin shaped knife in my back, but I was way beyond that.
“Don’t answer that,” he laughed. “It doesn’t matter. The truth is, Owen could never love you, not the real you anyway. To him, you’re something to be changed, something to be avoided at all costs. He doesn’t understand how special you are; the real purpose behind what it is you’ll do. He wants to change you, to make you something you’re not. Though, I suppose that’s better than trying to kill you.”
“Owen and I are none of your business, you sick freak.”
“You’re right.” His laugh morphed into a loose maniacal giggle. “You’re young. I shouldn’t hold your transgressions against you. Besides, it doesn’t matter where you heart starts, I suppose, given that we both know where it’s going to end up.”
“You’re screwing with me, and I’m not going to play anymore,” I answered. Letting him egg me on was just going to lead me into trouble. He couldn’t get to me in this room. In this room, he was powerless and, in three days, it wouldn’t matter. The solstice would be over, nobody would be murdered, and the whole prophecy thing would be out the window. “This isn’t about me. You don’t care who the Bloodmoon is, so long that she actually comes. Because you know that if the Bloodmoon doesn’t come along, then you don’t get to be the Raven. And if you’re not the Raven, then what are you? You’re just a pathetic Breaker who couldn’t cut it and is trying to overcompensate. So, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t think I’m going to give you even one more minute of my time.”
I held the phone back from my ear, ready to end the call and, with any luck, be done with Allister Leeman forever. But then, I heard him speak.
“Aren’t you going to ask me how I got the number?”
“What?” I asked, exasperated.
“The number to this phone; don’t you want to know how I got it? If I was in your place, I’d be pretty curious. Though, seeing as how only one person on the planet had it, it should be an easy guess.”
My heart thumped. He wasn’t saying what I thought he was saying. He couldn’t be. I gripped the phone so tightly that I was sure it would break.
“Come on Cresta, darling. Who had the phone number? Who gave you the phone?” His voice sickened me.
“My mother couldn’t have given you this number. You killed her. She’s dead.” Tears, hot and angry, poured down my cheeks.
“Is that right? Someone should tell the woman locked in my foyer. She’s under the impression that she’s very much alive.”
“You’re lying!” I snapped. “She’s dead. I saw it happen.”
“Did you?” he asked too lightly. “Did you actually see her die? Do you have a body?”
He had me there. I hadn’t watched my mom die, but she had to be dead. She was in the house when it exploded. I saw as much from Owen’s memories. She couldn’t have survived that, could she?
“Your mother is with me, Cresta. She’s hurt, but not badly, at least not yet. I didn’t kill her. I could have, but what sort of son in law would that make me?” A creaking, like the opening or closing of a door, sounded on the other end of the phone. Then sounds, the clang of chains, loud thumps like wood against walls, and a woman’s scream.