Chapter 27
"Max? Max who was that?" asked Fang. I gulped, glanced at him and walked towards the school. I heard Fang catching up to me.
"Max what's wrong? Who was that?" I heard him ask behind me. Then, he caught hold of my arm, and whirled me around.
"Hey what's wrong?" he whispered, cupping my face and stroking my cheeks. I looked into his eyes.
"Dylan," I breathed. He tilted his head in confusion. "He's going to hurt Nudge if I don't go."
I backed away and continued walking.
"Max! Wait!" I turned around. Might as well tell him the truth.
"Last week at the library I found an article that said he was questioned in a murder investigation at his old school, Kinghorn Prep. He walked into the computer lab and saw me reading it. Ever since that night, I've gotten a bad vibe from him. A really bad vibe. I think he even broke into my bedroom to steal the article back."
"Anything else I should know?"
"The girl who was murdered was Dylan's girlfriend. She was hanged from a tree. Just now on the phone he said, 'If you don't come, there's a tree in the common area with Nudge's name on it.'"
"I'm not letting you go alone. Drive home and I'll go," he said. I glared at him.
"I'm going whether you like it or not."
"Then I'm going with you okay?" I nodded and he grabbed by hand and we walked toward his car. We drove towards school, and I could'nt help but sigh and bite my bottom lip. At a stoplight, Fang cupped my chin and turned my head to face him. Fang leaned in and kissed me, making me relax. He pulled away and kissed my forehead.
"Everything's going to be okay," he said. I smiled at him and nodded. Then we were at school. Fang turned off his lights and turned to me. I eyed the windows, looking for any shadows and such.
"Stay in the car, while I check it out. If anything happens leave okay?" I nodded, and he kissed me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed him harder. He moved down my neck, kissed it once and whispered.
"Be safe." With that he pulled away and walked off.
LINE BREAK!
After twenty minutes, I began to get fidgety. I couldn't help but get the feeling I was being watched. I was worried about Nudge and Fang. But Dylan can't overpower Fang, so I relaxed a bit. Then my phone rang.
"Hello?" I answered.
"I see you Max. You're in the car. Come inside and play. I'm giving you a last chance." Then he ended the call. I gritted my teeth and got out of the car. I walked toward the east door, and got inside.
I stepped into semidarkness. My eyes took several seconds to make something of the shaft of streetlight falling through the window encased in the top half of the door. The floor tiles reflected a waxy gleam.
Lockers were lined up on either side of the hallway like sleeping robotic soldiers. Instead of a peaceful, quiet feeling, the halls radiated hidden menace.
The outside lights illuminated the first several feet into the hallway, but after that, I could see nothing.
Just inside the door was a panel of light switches, and I flipped them on. Nothing happened.
Since the power was working outside, I knew the electricity inside had been shut off by hand. I wondered if this was part of Dylan's plan. I couldn't see him, and I couldn't see Nudge. I also couldn't see Fang. I was going to have to feel my way through each room in the school, playing a slow game of elimination until I found him. Together we would find Nudge.
Using the wall as my guide, I crept forward. On any given week day, I passed down this stretch of hall several times, but in the darkness it suddenly seemed foreign. And longer. Much longer.
At the first intersection I mentally assessed my surroundings. Turning left would lead to the band and orchestra rooms and the cafeteria. Turning right would lead to administrative offices, as well as a double staircase. I continued straight, heading deeper into the school, toward the classrooms.
My foot caught on something, and before I could react, I went sprawling to the floor. Hazy gray light filtered through a skylight directly overhead as the moon broke between clouds, illuminating the features of the body I'd tripped on. Hunter was on his back, his expression fixed in a blank stare. His long blond hair was tangled over his face, his hands slack at his sides.
I pushed back on my knees and my eyes widened. Very slowly, I rested my palm on his chest. He wasn't breathing. He was dead. I gasped softly and backed away. My hands curled to fists and I walked away. I can't be like this. Vulnerable, scared. I have to be myself again.
The library doors were unlocked, and I fumbled my way inside. Past the bookshelves, at the far end of the library, were three small study rooms. They were soundproof; if Dylan wanted to isolate Nudge, the rooms were an ideal place to put her.
I was just about to start toward them when a masculine groan carried through the library. I came to a halt.
The lights out in the hall powered to life, illuminating the darkness of the library. Dylan's body lay a few feet away, his mouth parted, his skin ashen. His eyes rolled my way, and he reached an arm out to me.
Whirling around, I ran for the library doors, shoving and kicking chairs out of my way. Run! I ordered myself. Get to an exit!
I staggered out the door, and that's when the lights in the hall died, plunging everything once again to black.
"Fang!" I tried to scream. But my voice caught, and I choked on his name.
Hunter was dead. Dylan was almost dead. Who had killed them? Who was left? I tried to make sense of what was happening, but all reason had left me.
A shove to my back threw me off balance. Another shove sent me flying sideways. My head smashed against a locker, stunning me.
A narrow beam of light swept across my vision, and a pair of dark eyes behind a ski mask swirled into focus. The light came from a miner's headlamp secured over the mask.
I pushed up and tried to run. One of his arms shot out, cutting off my escape. He brought up his other arm, trapping me against the locker. I don't know why he much stronger.
"Did you think I was dead?" I could hear the gloating, icy smile in his voice. "I couldn't pass up one last chance to play with you. Humor me. Who did you think the bad guy was? Dylan? Or did it cross your mind that your best friend could do this? I'm getting warm, aren't I? That's the thing about fear. It brings out the worst in us."
"It's you." My voice was cold. I was grateful for that.
Hunter ripped off the headlamp and ski mask. "In the flesh."
"How did you do it?" I asked. "I saw you. You weren't breathing. You were dead."
"You're giving me too much credit. If you're mind wasn't so strong then it'd be easier, but I attacked in your moments of weakness, meaning I had to scare you. I have to say, your mind is very strong and most fun."
"Where's Nudge?"
He slapped my cheek. "Don't change the subject."
This was a side of Hunter I'd never seen. He'd always been so quiet, so sullen, radiating a complete lack of interest in everyone around him. He stayed in the background, drawing little attention, little suspicion. Very clever of him, I thought.
He grabbed my arm and jerked me after him.
I clawed at him and twisted away, and he drove his fist into my stomach. I stumbled backward, gasping for air that did not come. My shoulder dragged down a locker until I sat crumpled on the floor. A ribbon of air slipped down my throat, and I choked on it.
Hunter touched the tracks my nails had carved in his forearm. "That's going to cost you."
"Why did you bring me here? What do you want?" I couldn't keep the hysteria from my voice.
He yanked me up by my arm and dragged me farther down the hall. Kicking a door open, he thrust me inside and I went down, my palms colliding with the hard floor. The door slammed behind me. The only light came from the headlamp, which he held.
The air held the familiar odors of chalk dust and stale chemicals. Posters of the human body and cross sections of human cells decorated the walls. A long black granite counter with a sink stood at the front of the room. It faced rows of matching granite lab tables. We were inside Coach's biology room.
A flash of metal caught my eye. A scalpel lay on the floor, tucked against the wastebasket. It must have been overlooked by both Coach and the janitor. I slid it into the waistband of my jeans just as Jules hauled me to my feet.
"I had to cut the electricity," he said, setting the headlamp on the nearest table. "You can't play hide and seek in the light."
Scraping two chairs across the floor, he positioned them facing each other. "Have a seat." It didn't sound like an invitation.
My eyes darted to the panel of windows spanning the far wall. I wondered if I could crank one open and escape before he caught me. I can't try to fight because he's stronger, and my shoulders are stinging with pain from when he pushed me against the lockers. But I'm going to try.
Hunter pushed down on my shoulders, forcing me into a chair. The cold metal seeped through my jeans.
"Give me your cell phone," he ordered, hand held out for it.
"I left it in the car."
He breathed a laugh. "Do you really want to play games with me? I've got your best friend locked somewhere in the building. If you play games with me, she's going to feel left out. I'll have to think up an extra special game to make it up to her."
I dug out the phone and passed it over.
With superhuman strength, he bent it in half. Definitely not human. "Now it's just the two of us." He sank into the chair facing mine and stretched his legs out luxuriously. One arm dangled off the seat back. "Let's talk, Max."
I bolted from the chair. He hooked me around the waist before I'd made it four steps and shoved me back into the chair.
"I used to own horses," he said. "A long time ago in France, I had a stable of beautiful horses. The Spanish horses were my favorite. They were caught wild and brought directly to me. Within weeks I had them subdued. But there was always the rare horse that refused to be broken. Do you know what I did with a horse that refused to be broken?"
"Cooperate, and you have nothing to fear," he said.
I didn't for one moment believe him. The gleam in his eyes wasn't sincere.
"I saw Dylan in the library." I was surprised by the waver in my voice. I didn't like or trust Elliot, but he didn't deserve to die slowly and in pain. "Did you hurt him?"
He scooted closer, as if to share a secret. "If you're going to commit a crime, never leave evidence. Dylan's been an integral part of everything. He knows too much."
"Is that why I'm here? Because of the article I found about his girlfriend?"
"Did he kill her…or did you?" I asked on a cold snap of inspiration.
"I had to test Dy;an's loyalty. I took away what was most important. He was at Kinghorn on scholarship, and nobody let him forget it. Until me. I was his benefactor. In the end, it came down to choosing me or her. More succinctly, choosing money or love. Apparently there's no pleasure in being a pauper among princes. I bought him off, and that's when I knew I could rely on him when it came time to dealing with you."
"Why me?"
"You haven't figured it out yet?" The light highlighted the ruthlessness in his face and created the illusion that his eyes had turned the color of molten silver. "I've been toying with you. Dangling you by a string. Using you as a proxy, because the person I really want to harm can't be harmed. Do you know who that person is?"
All the knots in my body seemed to come undone. My eyes moved out of focus. Hunter's face was like an Impressionist painting—blurred around the edges, lacking detail. Blood drained from my head, and I felt myself start to slip off the chair. I'd felt this way enough times before to know I needed iron. Soon.
He slapped my cheek again. "Focus. Who am I talking about?"
"I don't know." I couldn't push my voice above a whisper.
"Do you know why he can't be hurt? Because he doesn't have a human body. His body lacks physical sensation. If I locked him up and tortured him, it wouldn't do any good. He can't feel. Not an ounce of pain. Surely you've got a guess by now? You've been spending a lot of time with this person. Why so silent, Max? Can't figure it out?"
I swallowed.
"Every year at the start of the Hebrew month of Cheshvan, he takes control of my body. Two whole weeks. That's how long I forfeit control. No freedom, no choice. I don't get the luxury of escaping during those two weeks, loaning my body out, then coming back when it's all over. Then I might be able to convince myself it wasn't really happening. No. I'm still in there, a prisoner inside my own body, living every moment of it," he said in a grinding tone. "Do you know what that feels like? Do you? " he shouted.
I kept my mouth shut, knowing that to talk would be dangerous. He laughed, a rush of air through his teeth. It sounded more sinister than anything I'd ever heard.
He said, "I swore an oath allowing him to take possession of my body during Cheshvan. I was sixteen years old." He shrugged, but it was a rigid movement. "He tricked me into the oath by torturing me. After, he told me I wasn't human. Can you believe it? Not human. He told me my mother, a human, slept with a fallen angel." He grinned odiously, sweat sprinkling his forehead. "Did I mention I inherited a few traits from my father? Just like him, I'm a deceiver. I make you see lies. I make you hear voices."
Just like this. Can you hear me, Max? Are you frightened yet?
He tapped my forehead. "What's going on in there, Max? Awfully quiet." I slapped his hand away and glared at him.
Hunter was Hans Gunther-Hagen. He was Nephilim. I remembered my birth mark, and what Bridgid had told me.
Hans and I shared the same blood. In my veins was the blood of a monster. I shut my eyes.
"Remember the night we first met? I jumped in front of the car you were driving. It was dark and there was fog. You were already on edge, which made it that much easier to deceive you. I enjoyed scaring you. That first night gave me a taste for it."
"I would have noticed it was you," I whispered. "There aren't many people as tall as you."
"You're not listening. I can make you see whatever I want. Do you really think I'd overlook a detail as condemning as my height? You saw what I wanted you to see. You saw a nondescript man in a black ski mask."
I sat there, feeling a tiny crack in my terror. I wasn't crazy. He was behind all of it. He was the crazy one. He could create mind games because his father was a fallen angel and he'd inherited the power.
"You didn't really ransack my bedroom," I said. " You just made me think you did. That's why it was still in order when the police arrived."
He applauded slowly and deliberately.
"Imagine yourself in my place," he said. "Your body violated year after year. Imagine a hatred so hard, nothing but revenge will cure it. Imagine expending large sums of energy and resources to keep a close eye on the object of your revenge, waiting patiently for the moment when fate presented you an opportunity not just to get even, but to tip the scales in your favor." His eyes locked on mine.
"You're that opportunity. If I hurt you, I hurt Fang."
"You're overestimating my value to Fang," I said, cold sweat breaking out along my hairline.
"I've been keeping a close eye on Fang for centuries. Last summer he made his first trip to your house, though you didn't notice. He followed you a few times. Every now and then, he made a special trip out of his way to find you. Then he enrolled at your school. I couldn't help but ask myself, what was so special about you? I made an effort to find out. I've been watching you for a while now."
Nothing short of dread gripped me. Right then, I knew it was never my dad's presence I'd felt, following me like a phantom guardian. It was Hans. I felt the same ice cold, unearthly presence now, only amplified a hundred times.
"I didn't want to draw Fang's suspicion and backed off," he continued. "That's when Dylan stepped forward, and it didn't take him long to tell me what I'd already guessed. Fang is in love with you."
It all clicked into place. Hans hadn't been sick the night he disappeared into the men's room at Delphic.
And he hadn't been sick the night we went to the Borderline. All along it was the simple fact that he had to remain invisible to Fang. The moment Fang saw him, it would all be over. Fang would know Hunter—Hans— was up to something. Dylan was Hunter's eyes and ears, feeding information back to him.
"The plan was to kill you on the camping trip, but Dylan failed to convince you to come," he said.
"Earlier today, I followed you out of Blind Joe's and shot you. Imagine my surprise when I found I'd killed a lady dressed in your coat. But it all worked out." His tone relaxed. "Here we are."
I shifted in my seat, and the scalpel slid deeper into my jeans. If I wasn't careful, it would slip out of reach. If Hans forced me to stand, it might slide all the way down my pant leg. And that would be the end of that.
"Let me guess what you're thinking," said Hans, rising to his feet and sauntering to the front of the room. "You're starting to wish you'd never met Fang. You wish he'd never fallen in love with you. Go on. Laugh at the position he's put you in. Laugh at your own bad choice."
Hearing Hunter talk about Fang's love filled me with irrational hope.
I fumbled the scalpel out of my jeans and jumped from my seat. "Don't come near me! I'll stab you. I swear I will!"
Hunter made a guttural sound and flung his arm across the counter at the front of the room. Glass beakers shattered against the chalkboard, papers fluttering down. He strode toward me. I brought the scalpel up as hard as I could. It met his palm, slicing through skin.
He hissed and drew back.
Not waiting, I plunged the scalpel down into his thigh.
Hans gaped at the metal protruding from his leg. He jerked it out using both hands, his face contorting in pain. He opened his hands, and the scalpel fell with a clatter.
He took a faltering step toward me. I kicked him in the stomach, making him stumble back, I turned toward the door and, before I could even take off, he caught my leg, making me fall.
Hans straddled me from behind and had my arms pinned against my back.
"Valiant attempt," he grunted. "But that won't kill me. I'm Nephilim. I'm immortal."
I grabbed for the scalpel, digging my toes into the floor to stretch those last, vital inches. My fingers fumbled over it. I was so close, and then Hans was dragging me back.
I brought my heel up hard between his legs; he groaned and went limp off to one side. I scrambled to my feet, but Hans rolled to the door, kneeling between me and it.
His hair hung in his eyes. Beads of sweat trickled down his face. His mouth was lopsided, one half curled up in pain.
Every muscle in my body was coiled, ready to spring into action.
"Good luck trying to escape," he said with a cynical smile that seemed to require a lot of effort. "You'll see what I mean." Then he sank to the ground.