and I noticed for the first time how filthy I was, how strung-out. Scrubbing the bathroom floors on my hands and knees hadn’t helped. I took a long, hot shower and felt better, or at least warmer, then I towel-dried my hair and pulled on another old nightshirt scrounged from one of the drawers in my bedroom. It was Shane’s, and it said Riverside High School Warriors in obnoxiously bright blue letters.
For a long while I lay in bed and tried to sleep, but it was no good. I didn’t want to think about how I’d broken a five-year hiatus from my powers; I didn’t want to admit that we might still lose Mina. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her slim body shoved into that muddy crawlspace, the way she jerked as Bunny tried to bring her back. After an hour passed, I swung my feet out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and padded downstairs to the kitchen. A glass of milk would help me sleep. Maybe.
The dark, empty kitchen unnerved me. I liked it better busy and full of clattering dishes and heat. When I switched on the light, it was so quiet I could hear the bulb buzzing ten feet above my head. I scuffed the floor with my feet and tapped my fingers on the counter just to clear the silence.
I opened the door to the oversized fridge and stared at the contents. An industrial-sized crate of eggs, three gallons of milk, a huge tub of orange juice. Enough food to feed a crowd, as usual. It made me feel vaguely nauseated. I abandoned the milk idea and grabbed the bourbon out of the liquor cabinet in the guests’ dining room, splashed a generous portion into a juice glass and sat down on the back porch with the bottle.
The first frost hadn’t hit yet, and Lionel’s patio garden was doing well. The periwinkle was still flowering, and pots full of multicolored croton were clustered by the brick wall. I sipped the bourbon and thought about snapping the rope when we’d stolen the boat. At the time, I’d only been thinking of Mina, but looking back, I remembered how it felt. Good. Powerful. Like a runner’s high. I flexed my fingers and felt the power in them, waiting. It would be so easy to go back. I shook off the impulse to try lifting the patio table and took another sip from my glass.
A board creaked behind me, and I jumped before I could stop myself. Shane was looking down at me. He’d showered and changed into a fresh undershirt and pair of loose basketball shorts. He’d shaved. I looked back out at the periwinkle.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” I did my best to calm my heart, but it was still pounding. “You feel okay?”
He sat down next to me, his bare knee touching mine. In the cool air, his skin felt very warm. “I’ve got a headache. What did she do to me?”
“She said you were interfering.”
He rubbed his temples and gave a humorless sort of laugh. “I should know better than to ignore Bunny. Any news?”
I shook my head. Lionel had called two hours ago, and there’d been no change. It could be days. It could be years. I blinked hard and poured another finger from the bottle.
“Care for a sip?” I held up the bourbon, and Shane grabbed the bottle by the neck and took a swig. We both looked out into the dark for a while.
“I think I dreamed about her the night before you came,” I said, thinking of the nightmare that had left my bedroom in shambles. “I felt like I was suffocating. I wonder if it was her.”
“You’re close to her. You have a connection.”
“Yeah, I guess. I wonder why it didn’t happen to you.”
He shrugged. “Who knows? I don’t pretend to understand what we are.” He passed the bottle back to me. “I can’t imagine who would want to hurt her.”
“Maybe when she wakes up...” I couldn’t bring myself to say if. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from crying.
Shane shifted closer to me and draped his arm over my shoulders. “She’ll be all right,” he said, his breath ruffling the hair at the top of my head. “She’ll be all right.”
I knew he didn’t
For a long while I lay in bed and tried to sleep, but it was no good. I didn’t want to think about how I’d broken a five-year hiatus from my powers; I didn’t want to admit that we might still lose Mina. Every time I closed my eyes I saw her slim body shoved into that muddy crawlspace, the way she jerked as Bunny tried to bring her back. After an hour passed, I swung my feet out of bed, pulled on a pair of jeans and padded downstairs to the kitchen. A glass of milk would help me sleep. Maybe.
The dark, empty kitchen unnerved me. I liked it better busy and full of clattering dishes and heat. When I switched on the light, it was so quiet I could hear the bulb buzzing ten feet above my head. I scuffed the floor with my feet and tapped my fingers on the counter just to clear the silence.
I opened the door to the oversized fridge and stared at the contents. An industrial-sized crate of eggs, three gallons of milk, a huge tub of orange juice. Enough food to feed a crowd, as usual. It made me feel vaguely nauseated. I abandoned the milk idea and grabbed the bourbon out of the liquor cabinet in the guests’ dining room, splashed a generous portion into a juice glass and sat down on the back porch with the bottle.
The first frost hadn’t hit yet, and Lionel’s patio garden was doing well. The periwinkle was still flowering, and pots full of multicolored croton were clustered by the brick wall. I sipped the bourbon and thought about snapping the rope when we’d stolen the boat. At the time, I’d only been thinking of Mina, but looking back, I remembered how it felt. Good. Powerful. Like a runner’s high. I flexed my fingers and felt the power in them, waiting. It would be so easy to go back. I shook off the impulse to try lifting the patio table and took another sip from my glass.
A board creaked behind me, and I jumped before I could stop myself. Shane was looking down at me. He’d showered and changed into a fresh undershirt and pair of loose basketball shorts. He’d shaved. I looked back out at the periwinkle.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi.” I did my best to calm my heart, but it was still pounding. “You feel okay?”
He sat down next to me, his bare knee touching mine. In the cool air, his skin felt very warm. “I’ve got a headache. What did she do to me?”
“She said you were interfering.”
He rubbed his temples and gave a humorless sort of laugh. “I should know better than to ignore Bunny. Any news?”
I shook my head. Lionel had called two hours ago, and there’d been no change. It could be days. It could be years. I blinked hard and poured another finger from the bottle.
“Care for a sip?” I held up the bourbon, and Shane grabbed the bottle by the neck and took a swig. We both looked out into the dark for a while.
“I think I dreamed about her the night before you came,” I said, thinking of the nightmare that had left my bedroom in shambles. “I felt like I was suffocating. I wonder if it was her.”
“You’re close to her. You have a connection.”
“Yeah, I guess. I wonder why it didn’t happen to you.”
He shrugged. “Who knows? I don’t pretend to understand what we are.” He passed the bottle back to me. “I can’t imagine who would want to hurt her.”
“Maybe when she wakes up...” I couldn’t bring myself to say if. I bit my lower lip to keep myself from crying.
Shane shifted closer to me and draped his arm over my shoulders. “She’ll be all right,” he said, his breath ruffling the hair at the top of my head. “She’ll be all right.”
I knew he didn’t
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