The Wicked Awakening of Anne Merchant (5 page)

“I’m gonna make your life a living hell,” he says.

I glance at Ben and Garnet again. Yup, still there. Still side by side.

“Take a number,” I tell Pilot.

On stage, two men position a large, covered canvas on an easel. Dia stares in wonder from the men to us to his team to the world he’s about to call home, with its woods colored in 100 shades of green, with its jagged stone still wet from last night’s ice storm, with its vast and wild Atlantic Ocean spreading toward an azure and butter yellow horizon that is, only now, clouding over. Dia seems to be in love with it all.

“This, my friends,” Dia has his fingers on the canvas’ cover, “is the matter at hand.”

He whips back the cover and reveals an architect’s sketch.

“It’s called Cania College,” he says as he runs his hand over the surface of the large drawing. “And it is my masterpiece.”

If he was trying to start his reign with a bang, he’s done it. His audience, imaginations captivated by the possibilities that a college— something to graduate to—presents, explodes with applause. I’m a little less enthusiastic. Just last night, Mephisto told me he planned to expand. And now Dia’s doing it. Could they be plotting something bigger together? They seem to loathe one another, but I’d be a fool to take anything at face value here.

“You see,” Dia explains when the clapping finally slows, “with the recent emptying of that strange little village on the southern tip of the island, an opportunity to expand has presented itself.

“We have yet to secure a contractor to manage the job, but we have unwavering faith that the right person will be found. The right person can always be found, for the right price.”

The subtext: some mourning dad, or mom, somewhere is about to give up his contracting business to get his dead kid into this place.

I glance in Ben’s direction. He and Garnet are gone. Are they together because he thinks I’m in California? Or could there be more to it? Perhaps Ben and Garnet were playing me. But to what end? As the ceremony comes to a close, as everyone fans out, and as
Pilot continues whispering to me all the ways he’ll ruin me, I realize what’s happening: I’m letting all the darkness here get to me—the devils in charge, the slimy Guardians. Ben isn’t like them. He’s not.

But then why was he with Garnet?

“You’re on your own,” Pilot snaps at me. “Enjoy the long, slow walk toward your own death.”

Ignoring him comes easily. I head toward the woods—so I can go to Gigi’s and dispose of her remains like I promised—but I run smack into Harper. She has her hands on her hips. Her clones are arranged in a circle around her, but they’re one short: Tallulah Josey isn’t here.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve coming back, Murdering Merchant,” Harper says.

“It wasn’t by choice.”

Plum chimes in. “Is that your excuse for that big hair of yours, too?” Chorus of
oh snap
s. She high-fives the Model UN from Hell. “As in, not by choice? Get it? Your hair?”

“Yeah, thanks for explaining that, um, sick burn.”

Harper eyes me. “So how does it feel?”

I hope she’s not talking about Ben and Garnet. I haven’t even had time to sit with that yet; I’m sure as hell not ready to talk about it, especially not to
her
.

“Having my life stolen from me?” I ask. “Or standing here and gossiping with my favorite gang of dead girls?”

“How does it feel to know you’re going to lose the Big V to me now that Headmaster Voletto is here?” Harper juts her butt out and begins gyrating on the spot. “I’m gonna be twerking up on that fine man, and you can kiss your chance to win good-bye.”

“What’s twerking?”

“How long have you been in a coma?” she asks in a fluttering, glittery huff. “Look, just keep your stuff neat ’n’ tidy on your side of the room, got it? I don’t know how small your trailer was back in C-A, but we keep it spick-and-span ’round these parts.”

Wait. She’s not saying what I think she’s saying, is she?

“I’m rooming with you?”

“There’s gotta be a reason your boxes of poor bitch junk are all over my place. Nothin’ to keep secret from you anymore, moron. You’ve graduated to the big leagues, I guess.” She crosses her arms.
“And don’t get too excited. You can’t kill me like you did your last roommate.”

“What?”

“Murdering Merchant on her murdering rampage. You shot Gigi before you offed Pilot. You’re a total psycho.”

She and her team whirl—in unmistakably perfect timing—and strut away. I’m about to shout that I had nothing to do with Gigi’s suicide, but why bother? The truth doesn’t matter on Wormwood Island. Avoiding a thousand death stares—do people really think I killed Gigi?—I head toward the dorms. Reluctantly.

I stop dead when I spot Ben and Garnet standing outside the boys’ dorm.

They don’t notice me. So I tuck behind a tree. And peek out to watch them.

Six or seven boxes are stacked against the dorm’s stone walls. Garnet is holding one as she leans, balances, and kisses Ben, who’s crouched to hoist up another box, on the cheek.

Feeling hot all over, I watch his reaction. This will be the test. Was he faking with me? Is he still into her? Did he lie to me about the two of them?

He smiles at her.

And I want to die.

Maybe I’m already dead, and this is Hell.

This is definitely Hell.

Garnet disappears through the front door, leaving Ben outside. My stomach is in my throat. It was only
hours
ago that Ben was kissing
me
. Was that all BS? Who kisses someone and then goes back to his ex-girlfriend?

A dead branch snaps under my foot. Ben turns at the sound. I try to flatten against the back side of the tree, but I’m not fast enough.

“Hello?” he calls.

Did he see me?

“You. Behind the tree. Hiding.”

I know I’ll look like a total spaz if I keep hiding. So, holding my breath, I step out.

three

THE SACRIFICIAL LAMB

“HI, BEN,” I SAY WITH THE LAMEST WAVE IN THE HISTORY
of waves.

Ben drops the box he’s holding. He mouths my name, but I just keep standing like a moron. I feel naked. I have to glance down to be sure I’m still wearing this idiotic school uniform because I’ve never felt so exposed in my life.

“Are you a ghost?” he asks in a breath, like he’s not sure if I’ll float away at the sound. I can’t speak, not with the memory of Garnet kissing his cheek and, earlier, stroking his arm. “Anne?”

Oh, God. My name said by his voice. This is why people have names. This is why people have voices.

He glances over his shoulder, checking the open doorway, and looks back at me like he’s worried I’ll be gone. But instead of appearing relieved to see me, his face falls.

“Tell me you’re not here,” he says. He must see my chest moving, my breath struggling to flow. “God, you’re really here. You’re back.”

I nod once, almost imperceptibly. But he’s watching me closely enough that he sees it. He closes his eyes. It’s my chance to get a little closer to him, but I do so only tentatively, on tiptoes, like he might bite if I cross an unseen line. Wormwood Island and its uncrossable lines.

His head is down. He looks the same, but different. I knew him only briefly and left him only hours ago—but he doesn’t seem to be the unaging sixteen-year-old I left behind.

“Did you die?” he asks without looking up again.

“Teddy was waiting for me in California,” I tell him and struggle to keep my voice even, certain it will betray my feelings.

I’ve always known I’d be a fool to believe Ben Zin could ever want to be with me; I should have expected him to reunite with Garnet and forget me as the fleeting memory the universe might have planned for me to be. I should have known better, been smarter. But when’s the last time a person
reasoned
with a heart?

“That skinny beanpole Teddy?” he asks.

“He’s got some sort of crooked nurse giving me just enough meds to stay in a coma. There’s no escape. Mephisto wants me here, so…”

“He was in California when you woke up?”

“He got there fast. The perks of being a demon, right? Transcending physicality and all that.” I awkwardly search for words to fill the dead air. Ben keeps his head down.

“Of course, he had to fly back here like a normal person. Because he had to carry my vials. Can’t just vaporize into spirit form when you’ve got three real, physical tubes of blood to tote along, I guess. Though how he got them through security is beyond me.” I laugh a little.

He groans. He’s not taking this as lightly as I’m trying to.

I glance at the doorway just as he lifts his head and looks there, too. The doorway’s still empty.

“Garnet’s inside?” I ask.

“She’ll be back any second.”

“So. You and Garnet.”

He doesn’t say anything. He looks down again.

Silence is worse than admitting it. It feels like I could freak out— just totally blow up—at Ben, but in truth only a part of me is angry. The other part, the bigger part, the part that tries to protect my aching heart, is whispering madly for me to avoid saying or doing anything that might prompt him to tell me what I don’t want to hear: that he and Garnet are, in fact, together again—a fact that would make everything that happened last night, including my first real kiss, anything but real.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” he says.

“Neither can I.”

“Anne, listen, I’ve gotta get my head together. I mean, what was it all for? This is…horrifying.”

Bad, yes, but horrifying?

“Please, get out of here before she comes back down.”

“So you’re,” I hesitate over the words, “back with Garnet?”

“
No!
No. Of course not.”

Thank God. I want to pause time, to stop him from saying anything that might dull my relief. Why does it always seem like the good things will vanish long before I can appreciate them?

“She’s nothing, Anne. A means to an end. Or that’s what she was gonna be.” He finally looks at me fully. The tears blurring his pupils make his eyes seem to be made of pure color. “I thought you were free. I thought I’d actually done something good.”

“You did. It’s just that evil trumps good here.”

“Look,” he says, running his hands through his hair. “Meet me at Gigi’s. Give me ten minutes, okay?”

Without a second look and without even waiting for me to agree, Ben disappears into the dorm. I hear him storm up the stairs and stop midway. He says something, and Garnet says something. And she laughs.

Is she laughing at me?

Are they both? Are they laughing together? As a couple?

The slap in the face that was Pilot’s betrayal still stings; it reminds me that being two-faced is a survival strategy, a universal PT. Just because I want Ben to want me doesn’t mean he does. Just because he kissed me doesn’t mean it meant something to him. And what does that mean, Garnet is a “means to an end”?

I turn to go. But not south, where Gigi’s house is. I go north instead, to the cliff.

I don’t feel the grass under my boots. I don’t hear the whispering of frustrated kids taking pleasure in the humiliation of the Coma Girl they’ve loathed since the day I arrived here, but especially since I killed one of their own—and Gigi, too, as the rumors go. I don’t notice the clouds drift over the sun as I cross the empty parking lot and start up the hill. I don’t wrap my arms around myself as the wind picks up and thick, slushy raindrops start to fall, then cease. I don’t even notice, when I make it to the top of the hill turned pink by the setting sun’s light cast over slick gray rocks, that Dia Voletto is here already. It’s not until he speaks that I realize I’ve got company.

“Anne Merchant.”

“I didn’t see you here, Headmaster.” I move to leave. There’s not enough room up here for his malevolence and my frustration.

“You don’t want to know how I know your name?”

“It’s a Cania pre-req, knowing my name. Everyone knows everything about me. More than I know about myself.”

“That may be true.”

I glance at his feet, expecting to see Villicus’s old jeweled bag, the one he used to transport vials in only to throw them off the cliff. Has Dia got someone to expel? There’s no bag at his feet. It’s just him. He’s traded his ringleader attire for normal human clothes: he’s wearing Doc Martens, fitted jeans, and a big woolly cardigan; his hands are stuffed in the pockets. The cold evening air has colored his cheeks and made his dark eyes glossy. Looking as he does, he could be on a photo shoot for J.Crew.

“Come,” he says. “Stand by me. Take a look at this spectacular seascape.”

The last thing I want is to make nice with the newest devil to curse my life with his presence. When he notices my hesitation, he chuckles.

“Are you cold? Take my sweater.”

“I’m fine.”

“It’s no problem. I’ve got fire and brimstone built into my bones. Keeps me toasty warm.” He waves to get my attention when I don’t react. “Hello? That was a joke.”

“Right.” I wonder if Ben’s on his way to Gigi’s already. Is he planning to break the bad news to me that he and Garnet have finally declared their love for one another? “I should get back to campus.”