The Fake Heart (Time Alchemist Series) (31 page)

Our boots and heels crunched in the gravel and dirt as Marjorie shone her own flashlight, casting it over the lonely, large stones that jutted out of the earth. I had no idea where we were going, but I knew it was farther away from where Dove and Leon were.
Please be okay
I thought, praying so hard,
please get up and get out of here before it’s too late!

“You’re
unusually quiet,” Jack murmured in my ear, sending hot flashes up my skin; both from fear and excitement, and I wanted to hit myself for even thinking that. His grip tightened at my silence and he chuckled. Even now h
is voice felt like a warm cotton
blanket wrapping around my body. I bit my lip.

“I’m sure you have plenty of questions.”

“I do,” I said
, not wanting to anger him just yet. Maybe if I could try and get him on my side—make him remember all the good times we went through—he might just snap out of…whatever the hell he’s going through and we could get out of this together!

Well, a girl could dream, right?

“Then ask away,” Jack yawned. He
yawned
as if this were all just some sort of day at the spa for him. I clutched my fist tig
hter, feeling my
nails
—once neatly trimmed and polished with a clear, sparkling coating, now ragged and broken and bloody—
dig into
the skin of
my palm.

There were too many. Where would I even begin? But I said nothing, keeping my eyes on the back of Marjorie’s white fur coat. I shivered,
wishing that they fleece blanket hadn’t blown away from Marjorie’s icy breath or rage
. My bare arms were covered in goose bumps, but the b
urning hate I felt towards Jack
and how his little actions and words still sent my fake heart spiking made the cold seem like nothing.

“You’re usually such a talker,
Em
,” he said, brushing his hand over my skin. My heart jittered at his touch. I knew what he was doing. God, it didn’t take a genius. Maybe if this had all happened weeks, months ago, I would believe every word he said.

But there was still a part of me that wanted to believe—until I saw Leon’s bloodied body and Dove’s broken form flash in my mind. And Jack’s horrid smile as he tossed Leon in the air like it was absolutely nothing.

I hated him. I hated him so much. He thought
I was wrapped around his finger, and—
my heart squeezed—he had.
I was his perfect, clueless puppet.

I just had to make him think I still was.

“This is just…all too much to take in,” I croaked out. My voice felt unusually dry as tears that didn’t need to be faked started to bubble up. “What have you done to Jack?” I still refused to look at his black, vacant eyes. Instead, I let my head fall to my chest, staring at my feet as we walked.

“Jackson Alexander has already….” He clucked his tongue,
forming the words.
“Well, you can say that he’s already departed this world.”

My heart froze. That wasn’t an answer I was expecting at all. “W-What do you mean?” I didn’t need to win Greatest Actress of the Year award a
t that moment. “What do you do—
”

“Master
!”
Marjorie’s voice was filled with fury as she spun around on her heel towards us, “If we tel
l this girl everything, she’ll—”

“
She
will do nothing,” Jack/Ivan said, eyes narrowed, “It is
I
who will tell her, and it is
I
who will
deal with it. Now turn around and lead the way, my dear.
At once.”

Jack’s tone was like a slap in the face. Even Marjorie felt it, her mouth curled into a tight frown before she harrumphed and paraded on. These two certainly had some sort of connection between them—judging from how harsh Jack was being and how Marjorie’s eyes shifted from pure hate to pure admiration.

Stall him
.
Keep asking questions.

“How did you know that I—we—were
going to be
in Bonaventure?”

“Your boy
friend of sorts,” Jack said, “Isn’t very bright. He was the easiest to follow. When we finally found word of the general location, I was already planning on bringing you here tonight anyway, as bait. But you just happened to fall into my lap.
I was worried, for a moment my dear
Em
, when you ran away from our dance. But I knew what you were planning. All I had to do was
sit
still and wait
.”

I saw Marjorie turn and send
me a cold glare, and then it
all
clicked.
She had attacked me in the woods during Thanksgiving—when Jack was away during break—and
after the danc
e.
She wanted to get rid of me, and whatever plans Jack had for me.

It was so painfully obvious by the way she looked at him. It was the same sort of expression when Leon reminisced and hurt himself over his late Master.
Marjorie was in love with this man claiming to be Jack Alexander.

“So if Jack…isn’t around,” I swallowed, heart humping crazily and trying to resist the urge to beat his stupid face, “Then who
are
you?”

“I
,” he gave me a wicked grin
. It took all my willpower not to roll my eyes at his dramatic effect when he paused.
“Am Ivan Novak—
the
greatest alchemist of all time.”

My thoughts finally came back, as if the information was still being downloaded.

Ivan Novak…
Ivan Novak?!

My mouth dropped open, giving away my thoughts. He gave a low laugh, eyes twis
ting with glee, “I see you’ve
done your research. No thanks to that woman’s idiotic apprentices. One who so bravely jumped in the line to save you and the other who lost her own alchemy!
Truly
,
a flock of
imbeciles
!”

“Don’t you
dare
talk about them like
that!
” I snapped, yanking my arm away from his sweet grasp. “Who do you think you are?!”

A hand slapped across my face so fast I blacked out for a second. Raw pain fla
shed across my body, but it was
like the adrenaline I needed. I gritted my teeth, clenched my good hand in a tight fist and sent it flying.

My fist collided with somebody’s cheek. A satisfying crack echoed around us, followed by a muffled screech of pain. I smirked, even with
my
lip split open. Blood trickled down my chin and onto my beautiful black and green dress.

But my brief moment of victory didn’t last long. My weight shifted suddenly, like my
right
foot had just sunk into the earth
,
and I was pushed backwards. There was a horrifying snap that cracked in the air a
s my ankle exploded with pain and
I flew backwards
.
I let out a startled yelp as I flew back, trying to find my balance
,
until my shoulder knocked against a stone grave.
Stars suddenly exploded in front of my eyes like the fourth of July, and for a brief moment it was as if nothing happened. And then the pain sunk in
.
Burning p
ain exploded up my arm and my leg. Tears leaked before I could stop them and a pathetic whimper escaped my dry throat.

“Serves you right, you sniveling little bitch!”
Marjorie hissed, a red welting spot hidden behind her laced covered hands. A soft, bluish light illuminated from her hands as gray eyes glared at me.
Served
her
right
, I thought, although it must be very convenient to be a walking ice pack.

And they say people with cold hands have warm hearts. She made Mallory
Wells
look like a
Girl Scout
.

Jack simply
stared, eyes void of any sort of emotion. My heart skittered a bit; disappointed. But what the hell was I expecting?
For him to leap over and defend my honor?
It wasn’t until I looked at
my ankle. It was half buried in the soft ground, bent at an odd shape that sent bile burning in my throat.

It wasn’t Marjorie’s control of ice that sent me falling—it was Jack’s control of
earth
.

My mind flashed back to when Leon was sent airborne from Jack’s powers; how he made the rock jut out like a knife, how his stone necklace shone bright when he used his powers. Jack had
just used
his
alchemy on me—not to show off
but to put me in my place.

A sinking feeling of dread settled inside me.

He truly
was
powerful.

His expression never changed, although there was a hint of something—Annoyance? Disappointment?—in his features; his lips formed a frown, but the corners were tight, like he was stopping himself from saying something. But with no word
s, he walked forward, yanking me
up by my bad arm and moved on, ignoring my howl of pain. The earth that had trapped my foot
loosened its grip
with a faint flash of black light and I struggled to keep up.

My ankle felt numb from the cold, something I was grateful for. But it also felt like my f
ake heart—numb, broken
, and dead.

CHAPTER 27

Karin had often boasted about one of Bonaventure’s greatest stories—Little Gracie; the tale of a
young
girl who had died of an illness and was so loved by everyone that her father had a statue of her commissioned for her gravestone. The tale was so legendary that people sometimes came to Bonaventure just to see Gracie’s statue—as if she were just a girl playing a game, perched on a little stone bench waiting to play. People left cards and flowers, dolls and even candy near and around the fence that
now
kept her locke
d away from the prying eyes of the public.

It wasn’t the sweet yet sorrowful tale of a Father’s love for her daughter that made Little Gracie famous—it was her ghost.

I caught my first glimpse of the ghost girl’s statue as we passed her. Little Gracie’s face was beautiful and peaceful, a smile plastered on her face and empty eyes that almost seemed to light up. Dozens of
offerings (
cards and flowers, stuffed toys and dolls
)
were mounted all around her fence, blowing in the icy wind.

My heart thumped extra hard with every step that we took, past Little Gracie and her sweet little smile; every step farther away from where Leon and Dove were.

Every step closer to my death.

I was beyond scared. I was completely and utterly terrified.

Because if Jack wanted to kill me
,
he would do it in a heartbeat—without any remorse.
That’s what terrified me so much.

And it was my
fault for being a fool. I played into his hands like putty. Didn’t anything
that we did mean
anything to him? I almost snorted at my stupidity—of course not.

And finally after what seemed like an eternity, we found it. The Hearst Family graves, lined up in a small square of earth that was surrounded by a border of small white stones.

And there was Kathleen’s grave, right in the middle. There was a small ceramic vase filled with plastic white flowers so old that they had turned a dirty gray and cobwebs that hung from the plastic leaves.  I could faintly make out the words in the flash of the moonlight.

Here lies Kathleen Patricia Hearst

Beloved mother, daughter and wife.

May the angels bless her once more, the Miracle Child of
Savannah.

April 2
nd
1899—May 18
th
1982

My heart felt
like it was being beaten by a jackhammer
. I felt as if Kathleen was watching us from the heavens, disappointed in my actions. Tears pricked my eyes but I held them in as I gave her a silent prayer.
I’m so, so sorry Kathleen, that I have to take away the one thing that saved your life all those years ago.
That I have to defile your grave f
or this man’s selfishness.
But…
I have to protect my friends. I
have
to.