The Lies That Bind (5 page)

Dark patches blurred the edges of my vision. The shock of seeing Grace again seemed to have turned everything to jelly, even my eyesight.

I felt myself falling, and it seemed to take extra time for my body to meet the ground, as though I were sinking to the bottom of a pool instead of tumbling back through air.

When I came to, I felt someone’s arms around me and heard whispers.

“Kate? Kate? Are you okay? Answer me! Kate!” It was Liam’s voice. He’d come to my rescue as usual. I wanted to open my eyes, to tell him I was fine. But I was too scared of what I’d see.

“Is she okay?” a girl’s voice I didn’t recognize asked softly.

“Everyone give me some space. I know CPR. I think she needs the breath of life.” I recognized that squeaky voice right away.

My eyes flew open. “I’m fine! I’m fine!” I managed to croak.

“Works every time,” Seth snorted.

My eyes flicked from Seth’s hazel ones to Liam’s furrowed brow. And then I saw her.

Only it wasn’t Grace. Just some first-year with long, dark hair.

“What happened?” Liam’s arms were wrapped around me, and he slowly brought me up to a seated position.

“I just lost my footing. I’m fine now.” The wet grass had soaked through my jeans, and I scrambled to stand up. I was sure everyone would be pointing and whispering about my little episode, but the party was still behind us. Thankfully Seth, Liam, and Faux-Grace were the only people who had witnessed my short trip down Lunatic Lane.

“Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…” Liam gripped my elbow, and the warmth of his hands helped clear my head.

“No, no. I’m fine now. Seriously.”

Someone
needs
to
remember.

I was still a little light-headed, and I was 99 percent sure my left butt cheek was frozen solid, but I couldn’t leave. I’d already failed Grace so many different times in so many different ways. But this was something I could do. Something I could control. It was a small thing, but it was all I had.

I felt a clammy hand on my forehead.

“No fever,” Seth noted cheerfully.

I batted his hand away. “I’m fine.” I widened my eyes and tried to give him my mom’s patented death stare, but I felt my mouth start to give in to a smile instead.

“Next time I’m giving you the breath of life. No arguments. I’ve been looking for a good excuse to use the CPR skills I picked up at that junior baby-sitting course my mom made me take at the library.” With one enormous bite, he finished off a candy bar that had literally appeared out of thin air. “You’re sure you’re all right?” He said the words through a mouthful of Snickers, and once I got past the fact that he’d just sprayed me with chocolate-nut saliva, I realized there was genuine concern in his eyes. I melted a little more.

In spite of his frequent offers to administer mouth-to-mouth, Seth was the closest thing I had to a best friend. Maddie was still refusing to answer any of my calls or even respond to any of my emails. Granted, she was in some kind of intense inpatient program for refusing to ingest actual food for the past year and a half, so chatting with her ex-bestie probably wasn’t at the top of her priority list. But still.

“I’m fine. Really. The mere threat of mouth-to-mouth probably saved me from slipping into a coma.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” Seth replied cheerfully. Liam rolled his eyes in my direction, but he was smiling. Some guys might get jealous if a scrawny redhead was constantly hitting on their girlfriend, but Liam was not one of those guys.

The cemetery was almost completely dark now, the aged, moss-covered gravestones lit only by the flicker of an occasional flashlight. Somehow the frigid air seemed to make the rising moon burn brighter in the sky, casting an eerie glow on the faces milling around the statues. I scanned the crowd and caught sight of a girl from my English class who was pointing at me, gesturing at her hair, and then laughing with the girl standing next to her. My hand instinctively flew up to my pink ponytail and smoothed the strands self-consciously. It wasn’t easy being different at Pemberly Brown, but I’d learned from experience that it was significantly easier than trying to fit in.

A loud yelp sounded behind me, and I turned quickly to see Beefany pounding Alistair Reynolds on his good arm. Judging by the way Alistair was massaging his shoulder, her fists lived up to her nickname.

“You bastard!” she shrieked and struck him again, this time in the center of his chest. She knocked all the air out of him and he fell back, steadying himself on a stone bench.

“Calm your shit. I was just having some fun.” Alistair laughed cruelly, and my back went stiff at the sound. Alistair was the leader of the Brotherhood. The fact that he was here instead of rotting in some cell in juvie was a constant reminder that I’d failed to bring Grace’s killers to justice. Everyone else thought the fire had been an accident, but I knew better.

More than anything in the world, I wanted to walk over there and slap that pretty-boy smirk right off his face. I lurched toward him involuntarily and immediately felt Liam’s arm slide around my waist.

“Don’t,” he said. Never had there been so much meaning packed into one tiny word. The anger was back in his eyes. And on some level I had to admit that I understood. The last time we’d gotten involved, it had ended with me nearly getting charged with manslaughter and Liam almost getting killed. Safe to say things hadn’t exactly gone as planned.

But I wasn’t ready to give up on justice. And nothing made me want to fight back more than watching Alistair dude-hug Bradley. My eyes narrowed as the boys bumped shoulders while Liam’s voice reduced to a low drone I was barely conscious of. Watching them left me feeling light-headed all over again, and I swayed on my feet.

“Kate!” Liam grabbed me by the elbow and turned me around so the boys were out of my line of sight. “They’re getting ready to start,” he said tersely.

“Oh, right. Sure.” I looked in the direction he was pointing and saw a fourth-year dressed in a white robe. She was standing on one of the benches and was flanked by two first-years who appeared to be freezing their butts off in outfits better suited for summer. The younger girls trained twin flashlights on the fourth-year to create a flickering spotlight as Porter Reynolds, Alistair’s younger brother and wannabe rock star, gently strummed on his guitar.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Liam added under his breath. “You’ve gotta just let it go.”

Tears sprang to my eyes, and I wiped them away with the backs of my hands.

“I know this isn’t easy for you, but Grace wouldn’t want you putting yourself at risk for them.” He cupped my face in his hands and used his thumbs to wipe away fresh tears before they even had a chance to fall. “You’re never going to win this. If you had a chance, they wouldn’t bother playing.”

“I know.” And I did. There was no doubt in my mind that Liam was right. But that didn’t make it any easier to give up.

The fourth-year’s voice began to ring out over the crowd, carried through the quiet cemetery by the sharp winter wind. “
Ad
perpetuam
memoriam; ad vitam aeternam
.” In perpetual memorial; to eternal life. She began to slowly read off the list of names, the paper fluttering in the breeze. Some—like Abigail Moore, a woman who’d fallen victim to a Sisterhood initiation gone wrong in the ’50s —I recognized, but most were just an endless series of first names that sounded like last names followed by thirds, fourths, or even fifths, depending on how long the family had been rich.

I remembered hearing the same monotonous list of names with Grace and Maddie while we hid behind the mausoleum. It felt like a million years ago that we’d barely listened to the endless litany of Pemberly Brown’s fallen students, too busy ogling fourth-years and giggling from the shadows. It was as though instead of names we were hearing the words “This will never happen to you” over and over and over again.

But here I was, about fourteen months later. Grace-less.

My entire body stiffened when I finally heard the fourth-year call out Henry Rowenstock’s name. He’d died of leukemia when we were in lower school, and his name had been last on the list a couple years ago, so that could only mean one thing. Liam squeezed my hand as the fourth-year took a huge breath.

Seth looked down at his feet, and I felt the entire crowd shift and turn toward me. No matter how hard I tried to fight them, the tears still pooled in my eyes, and my throat began to close up as the girl wrapped her lips around Grace’s name. But just as the sound left her lips and I prepared to hear my best friend’s name, a piercing scream shattered the night instead.

The sound tore through the quiet like shards of glass exploding at an accident scene. This wasn’t the playful shriek of a girl who had been startled; this was the sound of someone completely terrified.

My senses went into overdrive, my body preparing to respond even before my brain could determine what to do. Liam’s hand went slack in mine. I heard the swift intake of air as the crowd gasped collectively, and my eyes instantly adjusted to the darkness as the flashlights clattered to the ground, leaving shadows where there once had been light.

And then, chaos.

Everything shifted. Voices muted, colors blurred, and yet my nose filled with a stench so powerful that I felt my lungs burn.

Smoke.

And then the graveyard evaporated and I was watching my best friend burn to death in a collapsing chapel. People moved all around me, just as they had the night of Grace’s death, and yet I stood still, my muscles frozen in time, waiting.

“We’re leaving.”

I felt Liam tug my arm.

“Do not let go of my hand.”

I felt my legs bend, my feet begin to move.

“This was a bad idea.” Liam swore under his breath as he dragged me through the crowd. A train of first-years held hands parallel with us, their cheeks flushed with excitement. A group of guys darted away from the direction of the crowd, disappearing deeper into the pitch black. Taylor circled on her tiptoes, screaming a name I couldn’t make out. It could have been last fall. It could have been that night. She could have been calling Grace.

Someone was in trouble.

I ripped my arm from beneath Liam’s grip. His forehead wrinkled. “What are you doing?”

He reached for my arm and tried to move forward with the crowd again. When he realized I wasn’t moving with him, he stopped. I watched as his face twisted with emotion—first confusion, then disbelief, and then anger when he realized what I intended to do. But that scream echoed through my ears again and I saw Grace’s handwriting in that book. I couldn’t walk away. Not tonight.

Liam shook his head, his longish hair making it impossible to see his eyes, but I didn’t need to see them to know that they’d turned the stormy gray color that meant he was severely pissed off. “You can’t keep doing this. It’s not your problem.”

I hated making him angry, hated that I was disappointing the guy who had pulled me to the surface and saved me from the overwhelming loneliness and depression I was drowning in after Grace died. Liam’s intentions were good. He had my best interests at heart. Always. But he would never understand what it felt like to watch your best friend die. He would never feel the consuming need for justice. He’d never be haunted by ghosts, real or imagined, looking for peace.

Honestly, I hoped he never would.

I scanned the cemetery again, searching for where the scream had come from.

“
They’re
not your problem.” Liam was almost shouting now. He jerked his head toward Taylor. Her light eyes shone in the dark and her blond hair practically glowed. Panic radiated off her in waves as she called out. This time I heard the name. Bethany. She was searching for Bethany. “This is probably another one of their stupid pranks. Let’s just go.”

I watched Taylor for a beat longer. She had friends at her side, cloned girls who wore their hair the same, mimicked her clothes, and attempted to copy the essential eau de Taylor that made her queen bitch of Pemberly Brown. But they never really got it right. They were trying too hard, caring too much, taking themselves too seriously. They all looked pretty freaked out, but Liam was probably right. It was probably just another ridiculous prank pulled by the societies. They were at war. This kind of stuff happened all the time.

I wanted nothing more than to walk away with Liam, to make him happy and forget this entire night had ever happened. If I was the kind of girl who believed in signs or omens, I would have seen all of this as a big, flashing neon sign from the universe telling me to get the hell out of there.

But my gut was telling me that something had just gone very, very wrong. Whoever had screamed had cleared practically the entire school off the grounds in a matter of seconds. I shook my head. It
had
to be a joke, because if it wasn’t a joke…

Liam noticed my hesitation and softened. “Come on. It’s fine, Kate. Everyone’s always messing around on nights like this. We’ll get something to eat. Everything is fine. I promise.”

My stomach growled at the mention of food. Apparently I’d turned into one of those girls who eats her feelings. But Liam was right. PB students were notorious for this kind of jackassery. I turned back toward Taylor one last time. I could have continued that way, hemming and hawing, looking back and looking forward, but I had to make a choice. Choose the girl who’d sucked me in a few months ago, who, according to Liam, had used me to get what she wanted, or choose the boy who kept trying to pull me forward out of the drama and into that fresh start everyone was always talking about.

“You know what? Food actually sounds good.” It might not have been my most convincing performance, but I could almost feel the tension leave Liam’s shoulders. It was so easy for him to walk away, so easy for everyone. If only it could be easy for me.

At this point the cemetery had pretty much cleared out, except for Taylor and her minions. Liam pulled me closer, tucking me under his arm as he guided me toward the gates. I settled into his rhythm, enjoying the way he made me feel safe, protected from all of the drama for once. His distinct smell of boy deodorant mixed with whatever laundry detergent his mom used instantly comforted me, offering the illusion of ease. He smelled safe and solid.

As we made our way toward Liam’s car, I did my best to focus on the ground in front of my feet instead of the shadowy gravestones surrounding us. The imposing stone monuments that had looked regal on our walk to the ceremony now looked foreboding as they hovered over us in the darkness. It wasn’t so much knowing what was buried beneath them that freaked me out, but wondering who or what might be lurking behind them. Ghosts had always scared the crap out of me, but the past few months had taught me to be much more wary of the living.

My eyes picked out a figure bent over a grave. I stopped, straining to see in the darkness, but I didn’t say anything. I thought maybe I was the only one who saw it. Another hallucination. But Liam craned his neck and narrowed his eyes as well.

“What the hell?” Liam said, instinctively pulling me behind him.

The person’s head was bent, as though in prayer, and the large statue next to the figure cast a shadow over the person’s face, making it impossible to discern any features.

“You okay?” Not exactly the best question to ask a person kneeling next to a grave in the dead of the night, but it was the best I could do under pressure.

She lifted her head.

“I’m sorry. It’s me. I just…” I recognized her voice right away. It was my old best friend, Maddie.