The Ylem (9 page)
Ugh. Actually, I didn’t care what his
problem was. Thinking about him was a big waste of time,
remember?
Still, the wasting of time kept on in bed.
Like with a movie, I searched fast-forward and backward in my mind,
pausing and trying to figure out what went wrong. The movie kept
rolling and rolling, and I only could think of two possibilities:
my tear, which could have taken him aback, and Chloe’s glare, which
could have frighten a Spartan warrior. There was nothing else.
All this mortified me more than it should
and I didn’t like it. I really didn’t like it. I tugged my pillow
from beneath my head and smashed it to my face. Why was I
interested in a guy like him? In a person who didn’t even spend a
microsecond of his time thinking about me, or anyone—well, maybe
just his
model
girlfriend. Why did I always think of the
ones who didn't show interest in me and not the ones who did?
I pulled the pillow off from my face and
threw it aside. I took a deep breath and puffed it out. I only
wanted to know what I did or said wrong. I rolled, annoyed, onto my
right arm and tried to sleep.
Taos Box,
New Mexico
CALEB
The echoing roar of water filled my ears,
flashing into my mind memories of my first life, of my human life.
The breathtaking chasm of rugged basalt cliffs looked the same
under the moonlight. I’d been here before, during a rafting trip a
long time ago. I remembered the intoxicating sensation of the swift
rapids rushing through the most beautiful part of the river, and
the cries of ravens, falcons and eagles. But I couldn’t hear them
now. The river was the only thing awake in these moonlit
shadows.
“It makes you feel like you’re on National
Geographic Explorer,” Nick said with a remarkably funny Swedish
accent. “Without the sunny part, of course.” He brushed his fingers
through the long white-blond spikes on the top of his head. That
hair just couldn’t stay down.
“It’s one of the primary whitewater rafting
zones around here,” I said, throwing a small rock into the running
water. “Once you ride them, you get addicted.”
“Man, I wish I could try it sometime. You’re
one lucky skitstövel, Caleb.” Nick told me, choosing his mother
tongue to call me bastard.
We didn’t go out much in the sun. Our modus
operandi was mostly by night, so I understood Nick’s frustration.
But we both knew the reason for this night-leading life, and it was
far more important than our stupid desires. Without the black
dyeing the skies, Balthazar's presence and guidance wouldn’t be
possible. We needed our father as he needed us.
“We’ll do it someday, Nick,” I said with a
smile in my voice. It was the kind of thing people liked to hear,
and I wanted to believe in the possibility as well. Perhaps
someday, after getting done with all of this, we could go on a road
trip across America, my country.
Nick would love that
, I
thought with a smile. He liked it here better than the old
continent. That’s why he hadn’t made any objections to the American
nickname I’d given him. Nicolai sounded way too long and he yearned
for something simpler.
“Right. Well, in the meantime,” he said,
sitting on a huge bulky rock beside the river. “Bring me
káffe
, would you?”
“You mean…coffee?” I raised my eyebrows. I
knew what the word meant using common sense, but I also knew that
Nick hated being translated. He felt he was being
corrected—insulting for a person who spoke English better than his
own language. I knew he used Swedish words every now and then for
the sake of “recalling” his roots, but I loved to play with his
temper.
“
Ja
.” Nick nodded rolling his eyes,
clearly annoyed.
I swallowed back a smile. “You know I would
do the run, but we can’t go into town. It’s kind of Gavran’s
territory at the moment.”
“
Det stämmer
.”
“Whatever that means.”
He laughed. “
För mycket
?”
I could see he was trying to piss me off,
which was paying results. “Okay, stop the Swedish word parade.”
“
Jävla dum
.” Nick shook his head
amused.
“Hey!” I barked. I knew those words pretty
well. Cursing was always easier to learn in foreign languages.
“There’s no need to call me ‘fucking stupid’.” Even if I felt
stupid when he spoke Swedish. I’d hate to imagine what being around
Chinese people felt like.
“Girls,” Ben called us, cutting our banter.
“It’s a lovely chitchat, really. Very instructive and cultural, but
could you please—” he bit off half a bar of Snickers—“shut the hell
up!” He said with a big chunk of chocolate in his mouth. The words
hadn’t come out clearly, but he’d delivered the message quite
expressively. Not a good image to remember.
“They’re just hungry, Ben,” Massimo said. He
was lying flatly on a grassy area between two bushes, with his arms
folded behind his head. “Give them something to eat, chips or
whatever.”
“Nothing left,” Ben told him, chewing the
last half of his chocolate. “What we all need is a damn good meal,
one high in protein.”
“Gavran is on his way. The last time we
talked he was in the car with the girl,” I said. “We just need to
wait a couple more minutes.”
Massimo suddenly rose and took a deep sniff.
“Not anymore,” he said, smiling wickedly. Everyone could smell the
girl, too. Gavran was near.
Oh the scent, I thought. There was nothing
more wonderful than the scent of a human—especially a girl. The
sweetness hit my nose with awesome strength, burning my mouth like
fire, twisting my stomach with need. In that instant, I was nothing
close to the human I’d once been. I was a predator, waiting for my
victim.
“Gavran found her at the Bed and Breakfast,
right? She’s the receptionist?” Nick asked, his mouth watering,
imagining her taste. And by the fierce and expectant looks on
everyone’s faces, she wasn’t going to last long.
“Yeah, at the Dreamcatcher. He went there
after finding out some information on the Keeper at a small
church,” I answered, hearing the expectation in my own voice.
“Apparently she drew some attention when she asked to use the
confessional.”
“Lucky us,” Nicolai added. “
Tack och
lov
.”
“Cut the Swedish bullcrap, Nick,” I
hissed.
“Sorry,” he said, amused. “I meant ‘Thank
God’. Don’t get too bitchy, Caleb.”
I was about to retort back with some good
English, but stopped when the corner of my eye caught a blurring
shadow. Booted feet knocked the ground with a heavy thump a second
later, raising a high cloud of dirt around. The scent was rich and
powerful, swirling hot in the black air.
The cloud cleared and Gavran appeared in the
middle, standing with a young girl in his arms. She was about my
age, nineteen or so. Her mouth was covered by his big hand and her
eyes were full of dread. She could sense what was about to happen,
and after jumping from the top of a never-ending cliff, I
understood her shock. She was supposed to be dead, her bones broken
and head cracked, but here she was, trapped in the arms of a man
who’d offered her the world, surrounded by strangers dressed as the
night itself.
For a moment, I even felt sorry for her,
sorry for how short her human life was going to be, sorry for the
sharp emotions beating under her skin, sorry for how cruelly her
body was going to be treated, and mostly, sorry for the people she
was leaving behind—her family.
The last thought cut my heart with sharp
precision. I knew how important a family was. I knew the lack of
one drowned you in misery and solitude. In my human years, I’d
always been alone, wandering through lame jobs, moving from town to
town, sleeping in deplorable places…until a few years ago. I had
what I’ve always dreamed of now: a family and a father’s will to
respect.
So I couldn’t feel sorry for this girl, the
one who was finally going to lead us to our goal. No. She belonged
here. This was her place.
“If you promise not to scream and run away,
I’ll let you go.” Gavran told her in a soft voice, the one he
normally used to entice women. By the way her body seemed paralyzed
though, she didn’t need to be warned. She wasn’t going
anywhere.
The girl nodded nervously and Gavran released
her, taking a step back to join our circle, leaving her at the
center. She looked around in trepidation, her chest moving up and
down, the fear in her eyes gleaming wildly. “You lied to me,” she
said to Gavran after a hard swallow. “You don’t love me
and…and…you’re not…human,” she said, terrified.
“Love at first sight?” Gavran’s smile was
full of mockery. “Sweetheart, there’s no such thing, only
convenience. And of course I'm not human. I'm better. We’re
better.” He waved his eyes around us.
Tears slid down her cheeks. “I’m of no use to
you,” she said pleadingly. “Just let me go, please. I’ll never tell
anybody.”
Gavran smirked. “Do you think all these
insufferable hours of sweet talk with you were for nothing? Oh no,
you’re of great use to us, and the fact that you’re still breathing
proves it.”
The girl was crying now, deep sobs shaking
her body. “Please, I beg you. My mom depends on me. She’s sick.
Please.”
I had to fight the sudden urge to reach out
to her and comfort her. I couldn’t stop feeling sad and remorseful
for the young human. All this time of watching endless moments of
begging and crying hadn’t hardened my heart enough. Why? I didn’t
understand. This was part of our nature, of what we were—the savage
side needing to be fulfilled. I should’ve felt at ease like the
others.
“The old woman you took to the church,”
Gavran continued, cold-blooded. “Where does she live?”
The question took her by surprise. “Who?”
“One of your most memorable guests at the
Dreamcatcher. You told me she invited you to visit her. Where?”
She hesitated, a very wrong thing to do. “It
was a couple of years ago. I don’t remember.”
“Don’t make me go over there and make you.
I'm too tired to be patient now, so you better start
talking—fast.”
She hesitated once more, but when Gavran gave
her a deep growl, the words exploded from her mouth. “Ruidoso! She
lives in Ruidoso! Oh God, let me go!” she begged in total despair.
“I'm not useful anymore. Please!”
Gavran smiled that wicked smile of his.
“Wrong again.”
The girl looked around and screamed, then
fixed her eyes on me, the only one who hadn’t transformed yet. I
just couldn’t, my heart wasn’t in it.
“She’s all yours,” Gavran told us. “I already
had my meal. Enjoy.”
A last scream fired up from her mouth and
then…silence. Only sharp cracking noises of bones being split
echoing through the cliffs. I pressed my eyes shut and, against my
heart, finally changed and shoved forward to the corpse,
shattered.
KALISTA
The morning was packed with gray clouds. No
light seeped through them. Through the windows of the car, the
green of trees was opaque, its usual shimmer dulled to a dusty
glow. Everything looked vapid, almost dormant, void of the sparkly
liveliness that greeted us every morning.
Besides the crappy weather, I had plenty of
reasons to stay in bed and not go to school: Algebra II, gym,
Chloe’s threatening looks, Valerie’s questions—which I knew she was
going to ask if she’d heard the latest gossip after my little chat
with Tristan yesterday—the crappy cafeteria food, and seeing
him.
The last one had the weight of ten thousand
reasons.
The parking lot was already jam-packed with
cars, but the most important ones weren’t there yet. I told my dad
good bye and slipped out. Valerie and Owen waited for me a few feet
away from the entrance. She looked at me expectantly, as if she was
about to burst out into questions.
“What’s up?” she asked when I reached them,
her eyes wide open.
I tilted my head, eyeing her. “Shoot,
Valerie.”
“What happened with Dean yesterday?” she
uttered hastily.
“Dean?” I’d totally been expecting another
question. “Oh, Dean…” I remembered suddenly. “Fine. We’re fine
now.”
“Cool.” She smiled.
I was really surprised she didn’t ask about
Tristan. She always knew anything about everyone. Maybe no one had
noticed us.
“What about Tristan?” she prompted, arching
her eyebrows.
It’d been too good to be true. “Ah…that…”
“Yes, that.”
“We just talked.”
“About?”
What was I going to say? She would find out I
didn’t tell her about the little incident last week. Ugh, whatever.
She was going to find out anyway. I explained to her everything,
even the dreadful destruction of my favorite jacket.
“And you didn’t tell me about this?”
“Sorry, I forgot.”
“You forgot?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” she accepted, giving me a look that
said she wasn’t stupid. “Just tell me something. And this is very
important, as in world changing important…yesterday, did he come to
you first?”
“Yeah.
“And he saved you?”
“You could see it that way.” Anyone could
have done it. He was not a hero. He’d just been in the right spot
at the right time. Pure luck.
“Wow.” She said in awe. “It’s so
Spiderman-like…okay, maybe not that heroic, but the fantasy is so
eye-candy…those tights would look so good on him.”
“Who saved who?” Owen prompted, stuffing his
cell phone into his white and green Warrior jacket.
I rolled my eyes. “Could we please go inside?
It’s really chilly.”
We took off and rushed inside the school. The
chattering inside was massive, so we moved to an empty area, next
to the stairs that led to the second floor. A
Go Warriors
flyer was glued on the front white wall, and in that moment, all I
really needed was a
Go Kalista
.
