“I don’t believe you.”
“Eden-”
“STOP SAYING MY NAME!” she screamed. It was a mistake. She heard the sounds of footsteps from upstairs and from the back of the house. She panicked.
One minute the dagger was in the pouch, the next it was in Noah’s stomach. He bowed a little as the weapon plunged into his belly, his eyes flaring in shock as they collided with Eden’s. The violet in them darkened to purple with disbelief.
Eden felt his warm blood trickle onto her hand and she gazed into his eyes with horror. What had she done? Oh my God, what did I do? She choked on a sob as she tugged the blade back out, the dagger slipping from her hands to the floor. It seemed to last forever that moment with Noah in the hallway. Two friends turned betrayers.
It was only seconds.
“I’m a monster, Noah,” she whispered.
Seeing his shock dissipating and his strength return, Eden knew she couldn’t hang around any longer.
He was just reaching for her with bloody fingers when she blew right past him and out of the door.
Chapter Twenty
Running From You… or Me?
Eden was faster than even she had realized. She successfully escaped the rented house, running around the neighborhood in circles for a while to throw off the warriors who had taken off after her. She wasn’t familiar with the town but she saw a sign that said Denton and knew it was just a town over from Salton. Surmising that the warriors would head over to the bus depot first to check on her, Eden decided to use the energy she had left and follow the highway back to Salton. She wasn’t going home. They would be watching. Anyway she didn’t think she could bear to look at the place where Stellan’s life had been taken.
Running through the woods was therapeutic in a way. Each pound of her foot and tremor through her leg somehow stomped the guilt, the grief and her hunger into the background. Her muscles were burning, like a screw that had been turned too tight, but she relished it. She even relished the swelling agony of Emma’s too small boots.
By the time Eden made it back to Salton and into town, she was sweating more than she had ever sweated in her life. She also looked insane in the pyjama bottoms and t-shirt. Ignoring the bewildered stares from passers-by, Eden headed to Charlotte’s, a thrift store Celine had refused to let her go into. It was bad enough Eden was obsessed with black, but at least it was designer black. It killed Celine if Eden bought something that cost less than a hundred bucks. She hated it when Eden wore t-shirts she got online for cheap.
Eden winced.
What an ode to her mother and father’s parenting skills that she felt nothing at their loss.
Then again, according to Cyrus, Celine wasn’t her mother, and her father had raped her real mother just so he…
Eden squeezed her eyes shut. Actually, Cyrus hadn’t gotten around to the reason why Ryan had deliberately raped an Ankh. To be honest, she no longer cared. She flexed the hand that had wounded Noah. She was desensitized to horror.
Limbs shaking, Eden strolled into Charlotte’s and began raking through the racks. Quickly she picked out a t-shirt, sweater, jeans, socks, sneakers and a raincoat. The t-shirt and jeans were kind of cool but everything else was a little blah. Not like it mattered. She hurried over to the counter where Charlotte, a thirty-something single mother sat in a stool reading Stephen King’s Misery.
“That’s my favorite,” Eden told her quietly, pointing at the book as Charlotte glanced up.
Charlotte smiled, putting it down. “Gosh, I didn’t hear anyone come in I was so engrossed.”
“The movie’s good too.”
“Yeah?” Charlotte’s smile grew. “I’ll have to check that out. Well, what have we here?” She began ringing the clothes through and suddenly clocked what Eden was wearing. “Honey, you OK?” she asked quietly, her eyebrows coming together in concern at the sight of Eden in her pajamas.
“I’m fine,” Eden tried not to snap. “How much?”
“Hmm. OK, that’s thirty eight dollars.”
“Wow.” Eden smirked and handed over forty dollars. Talk about a bargain.
Charlotte’s fingers brushed hers as she took the money, the warmth shooting like an arrowhead of fire into Eden’s chest and setting the hunger ablaze. A growl erupted out of Eden as she snatched mindlessly for Charlotte’s wrist.
“Hey!” The shop owner shouted in fright, trying to tug out of her grasp. “What’s your problem?!”
The struggle only taunted the hunger and Eden laughed, a throaty sick laugh that didn’t seem to belong to her. As her left hand wrapped around Charlotte’s throat and pulled her towards Eden, her torso collapsed over the counter and her face a breath from Eden’s, Eden felt as if she were watching it play out from a great distance. As if she wasn’t really a part of the attack.
Charlotte choked, her face turning a reddish-purple color, and Eden fought with the hunger to relax its grip on her throat.
“Please,” Charlotte croaked.
Stop it! Eden screamed at herself, struggling with this need that had grown so powerful and out of control.
You’ll feel better. You’ll be stronger. You won’t feel so crazy anymore.
Her eyes focused on Charlotte’s mouth. Maybe just a taste. I wouldn’t have to kill her.
Yeah. That would be OK.
Eden leaned forward, her lips grazing Charlotte’s as this pull ripped apart inside of her, this vortex of power, reaching up through her like fingers of sticky black tar; anything caught in its mass would be pulled back down inside of her.
This was it.
This was it.
The door to the shop chimed and she heard laughter. It took more strength than Eden knew she had to let go of the thing inside of her and shove it back down from whence it came. She shook uncontrollably as she relaxed her hold on Charlotte.
“Nothing happened. I brought clothes over. Paid for them. I told you to keep the change.”
“Nothing happened. You brought clothes over. Paid for them. You told me to keep the change.”
Eden let go just as a voice called behind. “Hey Charlotte, you OK?”
She turned to face the worried young guy and girl who stood staring at Eden suspiciously. They were dressed in ragged t-shirts and jeans, their hair long and scruffy. Very clichéd thrift store shoppers.
“Of course,” Charlotte replied brightly. “How are you guys?”
“Good,” the guy replied, still eyeing Eden warily.
Eden gave him a blank look that seemed to shake him to his core. She turned to Charlotte and grabbed the paper bag of clothes she’d just bought. “Thanks.”
“Oh, you’re welcome, honey.”
In store, all Eden felt was fury that she had been interrupted, that she hadn’t been able to finish what would end this feeling inside of her. She was feeling like a frickin’ schizophrenic and was sick of it. But as soon as she hit the bus depot and was inside the ladies bathroom changing into her clothes, reality came crashing back in. She sagged against the tiled wall and closed her eyes, breathing in and out to control the wave of nausea that hit her. She’d done it again. She had nearly killed someone. She imagined someone finding Charlotte’s dead body, the Stephen King novel she had been reading discarded, never to be finished by her. All the small things in life that made it what it was and Eden had nearly taken that from someone. Horrified, she struggled to breathe. This time it had been close.
Too close.
You’re going to have to do it sometime, Eden. Or you’ll die.
“Then maybe I’ll die,” she said out loud. Like a crazy person.
The hunger laughed at her. Easy to have those kind of convictions when you’re alone with no human souls tempting you.
Ignoring the monster within, Eden finished up in the bathroom and bought a bus ticket to Detroit. It was all she could really afford and at least in the city she could hide.
The bus ride itself was not fun. It wasn’t packed with people, but she ended up curling up into a ball in the back of the bus, taking as few breaths as possible and holding her hands over her ears so she couldn’t hear the humans. So they couldn’t tempt her.
In an effort to control the need, she resorted to masochism, calling on the image of her brother’s death, using the grief to numb her to everything else.
It was not like she knew Detroit well. She’d been there shopping with Celine a few times but since Eden didn’t have any friends it wasn’t like she’d had the chance to head into the city with a group of kids and hang out. She had been once with Stellan when he was checking out the University of Detroit. They had taken a walk up E Jefferson Avenue and then took a right to Rivertown, the Warehouse District. They had had lunch at pretty cool café. It had been a good day. Just the two of them hanging out.
The bus had dropped her off near Wayne Community College but she knew that was near Detroit University so she marched towards the University main campus and tried to retrace her steps. The Warehouse District was busier than she remembered, so Eden huddled into her raincoat and ducked her head, trying not to look at anybody or feel the blissful pull of their souls. Instead she kept walking towards the riverside. The wind had been blowing this crisp clean smell of the river over her but that soon began to fade to this metallic, industrial smell the further she walked. As an elderly woman, who smelled of lemons and molasses, passed her, Eden froze at the warmth of her soul. Deciding it best to tune out her senses, Eden breathed through her mouth and continued on. She gazed around her. None of this would work. It was too…nice. So she kept walking. She walked for a while, not knowing where she was really. But finally she found it. It stood alone on its block.
The building was perfect. An old red brick abandoned warehouse with broken windows and faded lettering along the top. She could just make out the word Trading.
Breaking in was easy. She snapped the padlock across the double doors near the back and pushed the solid iron door open. Her ears picked up the skittering of rats as her foots echoed around the shell of a warehouse. Shattered glass, nak*d steel, and waste decorated what was left of the place. It stank of rust and foul garbage… and old smoke. She wandered around it, staring up into the high rafters. There were holes. She’d have to watch when it rained. To her surprise she found a damp and worn sofa tucked behind one of the pillars. There were beer cans and cigarette stubs littered around it. She guessed someone had been using this place as a hangout before it had been locked up.
Eden heaved a sigh and sank down into the sofa, looking around.
It would do.
Chapter Twenty One
Rebel with a Cause
Eden had been gone a few days now.
Noah stared blankly at the television, watching the images flicker and muted mouths talk to him and to each other.
“Why is the sound off?”
He twisted his neck around at the sound of his mother’s voice, watching Emma wander into the sitting room. They were still in the rented house in Denton. It wasn’t nearly as nice as Cyrus’ home in Weston, Boston. But it was surely closer to wherever Eden was hiding. Hopefully. “I have a headache.”
His mother smirked and flopped down beside him. “We don’t get headaches.”