Chapter 5: B(S)-Day

The next morning, my head and every muscle in my body hurt as if I'd run a marathon through six feet of snow in stilettos.

Fragmented chunks of the nightmare I'd had the night before spun through my head. Why was I still in my jeans and shirt? My hoodie, however, was AWOL. I dug through my dirty-clothes hamper and the blankets on my bed, but it was nowhere to be found. How had it just disappeared?

What if what happened last night wasn't a dream?

There was a knock on my door. "Is the birthday girl awake yet?" It was my mom. "Come on, Jace! Get up!"

I headed to the bathroom to shower, straightened the obnoxious waves in my hair with the flatiron, and tugged on fresh jeans and a T-shirt. I hopped downstairs to meet my mom in the kitchen.

"I made you pancakes, since it's your birthday," Mom said cheerfully, and smiling brightly, she presented a platter stacked high. "I know you didn't eat the ones I made you yesterday, so I hope you're feeling well enough to appreciate them more this morning."

"Thanks, Okasan," I said, sitting down at the counter to eat."

"Happy birthday, honey." She kissed the top of my head. "Love you."

"Love you, too. Did Dad call?"

"He had to leave early. He's got a meeting in London. He told me to tell you happy birthday and that he love you." She paused, "Did Albert call you?"

My smile vanished, "No, but you know. New York is three hours ahead, I'm sure he's working too."

Two dads: one stepdad and my biological dad. It's not that complicated really. Albert was the dad who left my mom and my big brother, and Gary is the one supporting our family in California. My little half brother is living with him for his karate training, and my big brother is doing his service for the U.S. Navy.

Mom's face brightened. "So I thought we would go get your present after school. Sounds good?"

My heart lifted. "Yeah."

"Okay, then. I'm going to get some work done before we take off for school." She turned to go back to her studio. "Make sure you eat. We'll go by the dealership after school and see what they have."

Awesome. "Hey, Mom?"

She turned back around. "Yeah, sweetie?"

"Why do we need to go to the dealership?" I wasn't sure what I expected her to answer with.

She frowned. "Oh, honey. You hit that deer on your way back from the theaters. We need to go get it fixed."

"Did you...hear anything last night? I mean like growling, like a huge dog or bear."

Mom gave me an odd look, gauging what I had just said. Heat rushed in my cheeks as I realized how stupid I'd just sounded. "It wasn't some nightmare?"

"No, I was awake."

She sighed and her lips tightened. "Maybe it was a couple of dogs outside fighting? I didn't hear anything. You wouldn't hear strange noises if you shut your window at night."

"I guess you're right." The consensus was official; It was just a dream and I was a lunatic.

When we left for my mom to drop me off to school, I happened to glance at my neighbor's mailbox, which lay in a pile of splinters. My neighbor, Mr. Kim, was picking up the wooden fragments and chunks of brick scattered across his lawn. A very clear memory from the dream crept into my head, and the blood drained from my face. A cold rush flooded through me as I stepped out of the house, dizzying me so much that I almost tripped.

"That happened last night," my mom said with a frown on her face. "It appears a sinkhole may have caused a driver to hit the curb and then Mr. Kim's mailbox. The neighborhood association is having someone come by to fill the hole in tomorrow. It's strange, since these things don't usually happen until spring."

I leaned back against my fence for support, my breaths long but dizzyingly shallow.

"Maybe that's what you heard last night?" Mom offered. "The loud noise you mentioned."

I watched Mr. Kim dump the remains of his mailbox into a wheelbarrow and haul it into his backyard. "Maybe."

I headed towards the front door after I threw my bag in my car.

"Honey, where are you going?"

I stopped my tracks and turned around, "Forgot my phone."

She nodded slowly and her brow flickered. "If you say so."

I ran up to my bedroom and dumped the contents of my wastebasket onto the carpet. I had to be wrong. My missing hoodie couldn't be in there. But right in front of me, in the midst of crumpled notebook paper, wadded tissues, and a candy wrapper, was my hoodie. I lifted it, gingerly plucking the hood up with two fingers. The cotton was shredded, stiff from something wet and thick that had dried all over it, and splattered across the sleeves and chest were dark dried droplets. The whole thing had a sour dog-drool smell laced with the faint tang of old blood.

Scrambling into the bathroom, I threw up into the toilet.

As soon as I got to my locker, I was greeted by Evan, who carried a vase of rose. My jaw dropped to the floor.

"Are you serious?" I asked, my gaze spilling over the lush bouquet.

"Happy birthday, Jace." He kissed my cheek. Any second I would implode from the sweetness.

He handed me the vase. "I don't want your birthday to suck, even though you ruined your Marshmallow. I hope this makes it better."

I wrapped my free arm around his shoulders and hugged him. "Thank you so much, Evan! You are too good to me. This is definitely making my day rock."

His smile widened. "I have to run to class, but I'm really glad you're happy. See you later."

"Bye!" I had to remove a pile of old papers from the bottom of my locker to safely make room for the vase. I'd known Evan for a long time, but he had never given me flowers before. What a doll. I was practically dancing on my way to homeroom.

Classes went just as I'd predicted they would. Boring.

My math test had been postponed until the following Monday, which was fine with me since I had no desire to take a test on my birthday. During third-period shop class, which I swear I was taking only to boost my GPA, we did nothing but sit at our tables and discuss the sanding projects for the following week.

Brit, Evan, and I sat in our usual place in the right-hand corner by the windows looking out into the courtyard. Landon, Mady, and Nathan joined us, and to my surprise and happiness, everyone avoided the subject of my accident. When I finished my lunch, I headed to the bathroom for a quick break.

As I washed my hands in the sink, something made me stop and take a second look in the mirror. My throat squeezed with fear as I stared at the right side of my face. Black things - spidery, threadlike lines - were creeping from my scalp and across my cheek and around my right eye, interlacing with one another Feat spun into revulsion as I rubbed my cheek hard, trying to smear the blackness away. The lines kept coming, getting longer and covering more and more of my face. I rubbed, but I couldn't feel them on my skin. Were they in my skin?

Half crying, half scared out of my mind, I grabbed a handful of paper towels and wet them under the running water. I rubbed my face vigorously with the wet towels, but when I lowered them, the lines were still there and my eyes had turned solid white like cue balls. I dropped the towels and backed away from the mirror until my back hit the solid frame of the toilet stalls. I covered my face with both of my hands, my fingers weaving through my hair, pulling it in desperation.

When I looked back up, I saw nothing on my face in the mirror but the streaks of tears. No black things. No darkness. They were gone. My eyes were normal again.

I splashed my face with cold water to dull the redness there and took several long, slow breaths to steady my nerves. When I felt confident enough to return to the cafeteria, I burst through the bathroom door, determined to forget what had just happened to me. As I rounded the corner, I turned right into Peter.

"Oh, God!" I cried out, fighting the urge to smack him. "You scared the crap out of me! Were you waiting for me?" I nervously tugged my bag higher on my shoulder and took a deep breath. That was when I noticed that the dark, blue tattoo peeking slightly on his muscled peck—the exact same one he'd worn in my dream. Something I couldn't see completely. I stared at the strange peekaboo symbol and I couldn't take my eyes off it, wondering what it really looks like.

He ignored my question. "Are you all right?"

Had he heard my crying? How did he know? Wresting my gaze away from his mystery tattoo, I dismissed my thoughts and sternly asserted, "I'm fine."

"I need to talk to you." He wasn't smiling. In fact he didn't look cheerful at all, and his questioning gaze fell on my still-red cheek. I self-consciously covered it with my palm.

"About what? I have to get back to lunch." I started to walk around him, but he sidestepped in front of me, blocking my path. After what had just happened in the bathroom, I was not in the mood to deal with any more craziness.

"We need to talk about last night."

My stomach clenched, and the fear I had felt moments before came raging back into my body. "I don't know what you're talking about. I was home last night. There's nothing we need to—"

"Don't you remember?" He leaned into me, his dark blue eyes wide and tearing into my brown ones. He was so close that he was all I could feel, see, and smell. My senses were drowning in him.

"Remember what?" It was just a dream—it had to be. What happened could not have been real. I'd imagined it, just like I'd imagined the black spiderwebs on my face.

He took my arm and pulled me gently against the lockers when a couple students walked by. "The demon? The one that attacked you?" he asked in a harsh whisper.

"The what? What the hell are you on, Peter?" I tried to pull myself away, but he held me tighter. "Look, I'm not into that stuff, whatever it is, so—"

"Enough of this," he growled, leaning closer to me. "You need to accept what happened last night, no matter how much you don't want to. Pretending that it was just a dream or that I'm insane isn't going to help you. It'll only make things worse."

"I don't know what you're talking about!" I snarled through gritted teeth. I was desperate to keep my anger from causing more tears.

Peter took a breath and spoke his next words slowly. "Look, I feel awful and I don't want to scare you—"

"Well, you're doing a damn good job of it!"

"Just listen to me for a minute and I'll leave. Okay?"

I studied his face. He was really serious about this. I might as well humor him. "Fine."

He took another deep breath. He spoke slowly, but with an intensity that frightened me even more. "What you saw—what we saved you from—last night was a demon. Forget the scythe-wielding skeletons in long robes. This is real. Most don't need scythes, because they have teeth and claws for weapons. They eat you. They eat your flesh and your blood. They are created by the Black Wizard, a immortal Mage from our land. We believe that you are a very powerful person, someone who is scaring Him. I am a hired Mage, currently your bodyguard, sworn to protect and defend you. And you are making my job really difficult."

I stared at him for a few moments, unable to decide how to respond. I settled for the easy thing. "You're completely out of your mind."

"Damn it!" Peter threw his hands up. "This is ridiculous. I don't understand why you don't want to believe what's in front of you," He stepped away from me and clamped his hand over the top of his head. His voice was rapid and worried. "You need to understand that you are in great danger and you need our help. But we don't have that much time play around."

I backed away, my hand crawling along the wall, unable to make sense of anything he said. Then I noticed the metal chain around his neck, tucked into his shirt. An image flashed across my mind of something gleaming, dangling—it was some kind of crossed sword. It was like déjà vu, a memory I knew existed but didn't understand, if that made any sense at all.

"We need your help, Jace. You have something inside you that can beat him."

I raised a brow, "Help you?"

"Is there a problem, Miss Beckett?" I turned around to see one of the assistant principals, Mr. Abbot, standing behind me, looking from me to Peter. "Is he bothering you?" Mr. Abbot asked, clearly seeing that Peter was not someone I would be friends with. An accusing gaze lingered on the tattoo visibly peeping on his chest. To him, the tattoo must have been a sure sign of delinquency.

"A friend," Peter said. "I stopped by to bring some of Jace's homework she had forgotten at my house."

Mr. Abbot looked questioningly at me. "Is this true?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir. It's okay." I didn't know why I was covering for him. Maybe his craziness had rubbed off on me like a bad cold, or something worse.

He turned to us both. "I'm going to have ask you both to get moving. You've done Jace a good service by bringing her homework. However, that doesn't give you two an excuse to miss your next class, you'll need to be on your way."

Peter nodded. "That's fine. I'll say my good-byes and go." He stared intently at Mr. Abbot, refusing to budge. Strangely, my assistant principal made a peculiar face before he turned and left. "Jace, will you talk to me after school?" Peter asked me.

"No way," I said, turning my back to him.

He stepped around me so that we were face-to-face. "If you don't, then you won't be able to defend yourself."

I felt a shiver crawl up my spine as his eyes bored into mine, locking our gazes, his voice low and downright invasive. "Was that a threat?" I asked cautiously.

His expression gave nothing away. "They'll come for you."

That shiver turned into a brutal stab of fear straight into my gut. My pulse quickened and I pursed my lips together when I felt heat rushing into my face.

"Now that we have arrived, you're game to the demons. You're vulnerable and you're easy to strike."

I took a deep breath. "If you don't leave me alone, I'm going to scream for security and they're going to call the cops."

He watched me for a few moments. His jaw was clenched tightly and he sucked in his upper lip in frustration. "We are literally running out of time. Trouble will come to not only you, but your loved ones if you do not come help us." My throat tightened.

He flashed me that astonishing smile, only this time it held something different, something secretive. "Happy birthday, by the way. I'm sorry I didn't say that last night, but I have a gift for you. You passed out before I could give it to you." Peter pulled something out of his pocket and held out his hand. On his palm lay a pendant shaped like a gem, hanging on a gold chain. The necklace was gorgeous, ethereal, the colors so bright that they shimmered and appeared to glow in the light. When I blinked, the glow was gone.

"What is this?" I asked, marveling at the pendant.

"To protect you," he said, lifting my hand and placing the necklace on my palm. "It never tarnishes or fades. Always the same. Always permanent even when fate takes so much away." He gently closed my fingers around the pendant, his warm hands lingering a moment too long. "I'll talk to you soon."

I opened my hand to stare at the beautiful necklace. Brushing my fingers across the edges of the irregular, perfect form, I couldn't decide what it was made of. The pendant's surface was smooth and luminous, as if it were made of glass but something more precious than that. Its beauty lulled me, and I slipped into a strange, nostalgic trance; and the whispers of memories that couldn't have belonged to me surfaced in my mind.

"What is it made of?" I asked, but when I looked up, he was gone. I looked across the halls and behind me, and he was nowhere to be found. Like a frickin' ninja.

Distant images of Peter, Starfire, and Rose grew in my mind as I was walking to class. A demon lurking in the dark, of me running through alleys and forests, of the necklace in my hands. Things I shouldn't have remembered but did. I shook my head and stuffed the necklace into my purse.

Mages? A Black Wizard? I fell back against the lockers tiredly and rubbed my face with both hands. Why wouldn't those three just leave me alone? But Peter seemed to firmly believe that I was some kind of superhero, and that had to be the craziest thing I'd ever heard. As if that wasn't enough, he said he'd talk to me soon. Although I knew little about Peter, I knew for a fact that was a promise. I went back to lunch with my friends and tried to forget about him, but I couldn't. Fourth period came and went without incident other than Brit distracting me from the discussion of the week's assignment. Something about dress-shopping plans for Saturday's party outfits. Thankfully, that was the only other class I had with Brit, so I was able to concentrate a little more during my other classes. Fifth-period European history was mildly more interesting because I actually liked history. It was something I got easily, unlike economics.

As I sat at my table, ignoring my tablemate, who absently picked at his face, I found myself thinking about the night before. I tried to remember the horrible creature Peter had called a demon. The snarling, dead-eyed monster stared out at me from my memories, its enormous talons digging into the earth, ready to leap. Why would I dream about such awful things? I rubbed my arms, recalling the sensation of its fur brushing against my skin. Never had any nightmare felt so real, in my mind, on my skin, and in my heart.

I decided to imagine for a moment that Peter had been telling the truth. If I was indeed what he claimed, then the monster, was real. What did he mean when he said that some guy and dangerous people want me? I was so confused. Just trying to make sense of Peter's claims was enough to drive me crazy. I couldn't get past Peter's surprise that I was in denial. Of course, nothing happened—it was just a bad dream, and Peter was nuts. And I hope Rose and Starfire weren't either or playing along with his games. I feel like those two are genuine.

But how could he know so many details from my nightmare? He had even been playing this pronoun game, him, whoever that is. And his tattoo... I had not seen those when I'd met him yesterday. The first time I saw them was in my dream.

I pulled the necklace out of my purse and studied the delicate edges and intricate etchings.

Remember. I thought hard, shutting my eyes tightly and closing my fingers around my pendant. Remember, remember. What was I supposed to remember? I stared down at my history notes. If only my own history were written on those pages instead of Charlemagne's.

The events from the night before replayed over and over in my mind like a horror movie: the reaper stalking through the dark, charging at me as I swung those strange, flaming, sickle-shaped swords. So much blood...

And then my eyes went out of focus. I squeezed them shut and opened them again, turning my face away from the harsh light of the classroom to stare at the floor. The temperature plummeted, and I shivered and rubbed my arms. The floor blurred and my desk and all the faces around me vanished, leaving me alone in the dark and kneeling on a snowy ground. I stood and looked around me, and I saw the dense, shadowed forest closing in on me and felt the icy, unyielding wind on my face.

His jaws snapped at me, but I twisted away, and his teeth clamped down on earth and snow instead of flesh. With a desperate cry, I swung my sword as hard as I could. The blade cut deep through his neck, and his body burst into flames. The Demon's head toppled off his body and onto my face.

I cried out and my chair slipped out from under me. The racket echoed through the classroom as my butt hit the tile floor and the chair crashed.

Everyone around me was silent, too shocked to laugh, but I didn't dare look up. My entire body flushed with heat.

Oh God, oh God... Both my hands covered my face as I sat on the floor, absolutely mortified.

"Holy crap, Jace, are you okay?" asked my table partner.

I looked up to see his face peering down at me. "The chair... it slipped."