Hades

3 Unholy Night

FRIDAY came around faster than I expected. I wasn’t especially looking forward to the Halloween party. I’d much rather have spent a night at home with Xavier, but I didn’t think it fair to impose my reclusiveness on him.

Gabriel shook his head in surprise when he saw my costume, which consisted of a white satin sheath dress, gladiator sandals borrowed from Molly, and a pair of short, fluffy synthetic wings I’d rented from the local costume shop. I was a parody of myself, and Gabriel, as I’d guessed, was unimpressed. It must have seemed like some kind of sacrilege to him.

“It’s a little obvious, don’t you think?” he asked wryly.

“Not at all,” I replied. “If anyone suspected us of being superhuman, this should throw them off the scent.”

“Bethany, you are a messenger of the Lord, not a detective in a B-grade spy movie,” Gabriel said. “Try to remember that.”

“Would you like me to change?” I sighed.

“No, he wouldn’t,” Ivy said, patting my hand. “The costume is lovely. After all, it’s just a high school party.” She gave Gabriel a pointed look designed to bring the discussion to a close. Gabriel shrugged. Even though he spent his days disguised as a music teacher at Bryce Hamilton, it seemed the machinations of the teenage world were beyond him.

When Xavier arrived he was dressed as a cowboy in faded jeans, tan boots, and a checkered shirt. He even wore a leather cowboy hat.

“Trick or treat?” he said with a grin.

“No offense, but you don’t look anything like Batman.”

“Ain’t no need to be nasty now, ma’am,” Xavier said, adopting a heavy Texan accent. “Are you ready to go? Our ride’s awaitin’.”

I laughed. “You’re going to keep this up all night, aren’t you?

“Probably,” Xavier said. “I’m driving you wild with desire, aren’t I?” My brother coughed to remind us of his presence. He was always uncomfortable with outward displays of affection.

“Don’t stay out too late,” Ivy said. “We’re leaving for Black Ridge early tomorrow morning.”

“Don’t worry,” Xavier promised. “I’ll have her home by the time the clock strikes midnight.”

Gabriel shook his head. “Must the two of you embody every cliché in the book?”

Xavier and I looked at each other and grinned. “Yes,” we replied.

It was a half-hour drive to the old abandoned homestead. The black stretch of highway was dotted with the headlights of other partygoers, and nothing but open fields surrounded us. We were strangely elated that night. It was an odd feeling, like the whole world belonged to the students of Bryce Hamilton. The party marked the end of an era for us and we had mixed feelings about it. We were all on the cusp of graduating and shaping our futures. It was the start of a new life and while we hoped it would be full of promise, we couldn’t help but feel a degree of nostalgia for all we’d be leaving behind. College life with all its associated independence was just around the corner. Soon friendships would be tested by distance and some relationships would not survive.

The night sky seemed vaster than usual and a gibbous moon drifted between wisps of cloud. As we drove, I watched Xavier out of the corner of my eye. He looked so at ease behind the wheel of the Chevy. His face was free of anxiety. We were cruising now and he steered with one hand. Moonlight fell through the window, illuminating his face. He turned to look at me, shadows dancing across his even features.

“What are you thinking about, babe?” he asked.

“Just that I could do so much better than a cowboy,” I teased.

“You are really pushing your luck tonight,” Xavier said in mock seriousness. “I’m a cowboy on the edge!” I laughed, not fully understanding the reference. I could have asked him for an explanation but all that mattered was that we were together. So what if I missed the occasional joke? It made what we had even more intriguing.

We swung into the winding, overgrown driveway and followed a battered pickup truck full of senior boys calling themselves the “wolf pack.” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but they were all wearing khaki bandanas and had painted black war stripes across their chests and faces.

“Any excuse to get their shirts off,” Xavier joked.

The boys were lounging in the back of the truck, chainsmoking and working their way through a keg. Once the truck was parked, they let out a wolf cry and leapt out, heading toward the house. One of them stopped to throw up in a nearby bush. Once he’d expelled the contents of his stomach, he straightened up and kept right on running.

The house itself reflected the Halloween theme. It was old and rambling with a creaking porch that stretched across the length of the front. The house was badly in need of a paint job. Its original white paint was cracked and peeling, revealing grayish weatherboards underneath and giving the whole place an air of neglect.

Austin must have enlisted the help of his female friends as decorating crew because the porch was brightly lit with jacko’-lanterns and glow sticks, but the windows on the top floor remained in darkness. There was no other form of civilization in sight. If there were neighbors, they were too far away to be seen. I understood now why this house had been chosen as the party venue. We could make as much noise as we wanted and no one would hear us. The thought made me a little uneasy. The only thing separating the house from the highway was a collapsing fence that had seen better days. I could see a scarecrow propped on a stick in the middle of the yard about a hundred meters from where we stood. Its body was limp and its head lolled eerily to one side.

“That’s so spooky,” I whispered, drawing close to Xavier’s side. “It looks so real.” He wrapped a strong arm around me.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “It only goes after girls who don’t appreciate their boyfriends.”

I elbowed him playfully. “That’s not even funny! Besides, the girls think it’s healthy for us to spend some time apart.”

“Well, I disagree.” Xavier wrapped an arm around me.

“That’s because you’re such an attention seeker!”

“Watch out, I think he can hear you ….”

Inside the house was already crowded with guests. It had been vacant so long that the power had been disconnected and the whole place was lit with lanterns and candles. To the left was a sweeping staircase. It was obvious Austin’s parents had let the house go because the stairs looked worn and rotted through in places. Someone had put a candle on the edge of every step and now the wax dripped down, pooling like frosting on the wooden boards. Empty rooms spilled off the wide hallway. I knew drunken couples probably occupied them, but the darkness was still unnerving. We made our way down the corridor, weaving past bodies all decked in various outfits. Some had gone all out in terms of costumes. I caught flashes of vampire teeth, devil horns, and plenty of fake blood. Someone really tall and dressed as the Grim Reaper glided past us, his face completely concealed beneath a hood. I saw Alice in Wonderland (the zombie version), Raggedy Ann, Edward Scissorhands, and a Hannibal Lecter — inspired mask. I gripped Xavier’s hand tightly. I didn’t want to ruin his night, but I found the whole scene slightly unsettling. It was like all the characters from horror stories suddenly coming to life around us. The only thing that took the edge off the eeriness was the constant flow of chatter and laughter. Someone plugged in an iPod dock and suddenly the house was filled with music so loud it shook the dusty chandelier above us.

We picked our way through the crowd and found Molly and the girls in the living room, ensconced in a faded tapestry club lounge. The coffee table in front of them was already littered with shot glasses and half-empty bottles of vodka. Molly had stuck with her original idea and come as Tinker Bell in a green dress, tattered at the hem, ballet flats, and a pair of fairy wings. But she had chosen her accessories carefully and in keeping with the spirit of Halloween. She wore silver chains around her wrists and ankles, and her face and body were smeared with fake blood and dirt. She had a plastic dagger protruding from her chest. Even Xavier looked impressed, his raised eyebrows indicative of his approval.

“Gothic Tinker Bell. Solid effort, Molls,” he complimented. We took a seat on the divan next to Madison, who, true to her word, had turned up as a Playboy Bunny in a black corset, fluffy tail, and a pair of white bunny ears. Her eye makeup was already smudged so she looked as though she had two black eyes. She downed another shot and slammed the glass victoriously on the table.

“You two suck,” she slurred as we squeezed in next to her. “Those costumes are the worst!”

“What’s wrong with them?” Xavier asked, sounding as if he couldn’t care less about her opinion but was merely asking out of politeness.

“You look like Woody from Toy Story,” Madison said, suddenly unable to suppress an attack of the giggles. “And, Beth, come on! You could’ve at least come as one of Charlie’s Angels. There’s nothing scary about either of you.”

“Your outfit isn’t exactly terrifying either,” Molly said in our defense.

“Don’t be too sure about that,” Xavier said. I smothered a smile behind my hand. Xavier had never liked Madison much. She drank and smoked too much and always gave her opinion when it wasn’t wanted.

“Shuddup, Woody,” Madison drawled.

“I think maybe someone should lay off the shots for a while,” Xavier advised.

“Don’t you have a rodeo or something to organize?”

Xavier jumped up, distracted from responding by the entrance of his water-polo team, who made their arrival known to everyone present by letting out a collective and uninterrupted war cry. I heard them greeting Xavier in the hall.

“Hey, man!”

“Dude, what’s with the outfit?”

“Did Beth put you up to this?”

“Man, you are so whipped!” One of them straddled his back like a chimp and tackled him playfully to the ground.

“Get off me!”

“Yee-haw!”

There were a few more hoots of laughter and the sounds of a friendly scuffle. When Xavier surfaced he had been stripped of everything but his jeans. His hair, which had been smoothed back neatly when we walked in, was now ruffled. He shrugged at me as if to say he couldn’t be held accountable for the behavior of his crazy friends and slipped on a fitted black T-shirt that one of the boys tossed him.

“Are you okay, Huggie Bear?” I asked, protectively reaching up to fix his hair. I didn’t like it when his friends played rough. My attentiveness raised a few eyebrows among his friends.

“Beth.” Xavier put his hand on my shoulder. “You have got to stop calling me that in public.”

“Sorry,” I said sheepishly.

Xavier laughed. “Come on, let’s get something to drink.”

After grabbing a beer for Xavier and soda for me, we headed out to the back porch and settled down on a deep sofa that someone had dragged out. Pink-and-green paper lanterns hung from the eaves, casting the withered yard in a soft light. Beyond it, the fields stretched out to the edge of the dense, black woodland.

Aside from the rowdy antics of the partygoers inside, the night was still and tranquil. A rusty tractor stood abandoned in the high grass. I was just thinking how picturesque it looked, like a painting from a forgotten time, when a lacy undergarment floated out of the side window coming to land at our feet. I blushed deeply as I realized there was a couple inside and they weren’t engaged in deep and meaningful conversation. I quickly averted my gaze and tried to imagine what the old house might have been like in the days before the Knox family let it fall to rack and ruin. It would have been grand and beautiful back in the day when girls still had chaperones and dancing consisted of a graceful waltz played on a grand piano, nothing like the gyrating and thrusting going on inside right now. Social gatherings would have been stylish and tame compared to the havoc being wreaked upon the old house tonight. I imagined a man in coattails bowing before a woman in a flowing dress on this very same porch, although in my imagination it was polished and new and honeysuckle wound around the quaint posts. In my mind’s eye I saw a star-studded night sky, the double doors flung open so the sound of music trickled out into the night.

“Halloween sucks.” Ben Carter from my literature class broke through my reverie as he flopped down beside us. I would have answered him, but Xavier’s strong arm encircled me and made it difficult for me to concentrate on anything else. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his hand hanging loosely over my shoulder. I liked seeing the silver faith ring on him — it was a sign that he was taken, unavailable to anyone but me. It seemed oddly out of place on an eighteen-year-old boy so beautiful and so popular. Anyone else seeing him for the first time would take one look at his perfect form, his cool turquoise gaze, that charming smile, the shock of nutmeg hair falling across his forehead and know that he could have his pick of girls.

They would simply assume that like any normal teenage boy, he would be out enjoying the perks of being young and attractive. Only those close to him knew that Xavier was completely committed to me. Not only was he breathtakingly gorgeous, he was a leader, looked up to and respected by everybody. I loved and admired him, but I still couldn’t quite believe he was mine. I couldn’t fathom that I had been so lucky. Sometimes I worried he might be a dream and if I let myself lose focus, he might fade away. But he was still sitting beside me, solid and secure. He answered Ben when it became apparent that I had zoned out.

“Relax, Carter, it’s a party,” he said, laughing.

“Where’s your costume?” I asked, forcing myself back to reality.

“I don’t do dress-ups,” Ben said cynically. Ben was the sort of guy who thought everything was puerile and beneath him. He managed to maintain his contemptuously superior persona by engaging in nothing. At the same time he always turned up just in case he might miss out on something. “My God, they’re sickening.” He wrinkled his face in disgust at the lacy underwear lying on the porch. “I hope I never fall for someone so hard that I agree to have sex in a tractor.”

“I don’t know about the tractor,” I teased. “But I’m betting one day you’ll fall in love and there won’t be a thing you can do about it.”

“Not a chance.” Ben stretched out with his arms crossed over his head and shut his eyes. “I’m too bitter and jaded.”

“I could try and set you up with one of my friends,” I offered. I quite liked the idea of matchmaking and was fairly confident in my skills. “What about Abby? She’s single and pretty and wouldn’t be too demanding.”

“Dear God, please don’t,” Ben said. “That would have to be the worst match in history.”

“I beg your pardon?” Ben’s lack of confidence in my abilities was disappointing.

“Beg all you want.” Ben snorted. “My decision is final. I won’t be set up with a cooler-drinking, stiletto-wearing bimbo. We’d have nothing to say to each other except bye.”

“It’s good to know you have such a high opinion of my friends,” I said crossly. “Is that what you think of me?”

“No, but you’re different.”

“How so?”

“You’re weird.”

“I am not!” I exclaimed. “What’s so weird about me? Xavier, do you think I’m weird?”

“Calm down, babe,” Xavier said, eyes twinkling with amusement. “I’m sure Carter means weird in the most flattering sense.”

“Well, you’re weird too,” I hit back at Ben, realizing at the same time how petulant I sounded.

He chuckled and downed the rest of his beer. “Takes one to know one.”

The sound of raucous voices coming from inside drew our attention. The screen door was thrown open and a group of boys from the water-polo team appeared on the porch. It was amazing, I thought to myself, how much they reminded me of young lion cubs, jostling and tumbling over one another. Xavier shook his head in gentle admonishment as they stumbled toward us. I recognized the faces of Wesley and Lawson among them. They were easy to pick out; Wesley with his slick, dark hair and low-set brows and Lawson with his white-blond crew cut and hooded blue eyes. They were a dull blue, I noticed, they didn’t sparkle like Xavier’s. Both boys were shirtless and striped with war paint. They acknowledged my presence with a curt nod in my direction and I thought fleetingly back to a time when men would click their heels and bow in the presence of a lady. I returned their acknowledgment with a smile. I couldn’t bring myself to do what my friends called the “s’up nod”—it made me feel as if I were in one of those music videos Molly watched on MTV where men in hoods rapped about “homies” and something called “bling.”

“Come on, Woods,” the boys called. “We’re headed to the lake.”

Xavier groaned. “Here we go.”

“You know the rules,” Wesley called out. “Last one there has to skinny-dip.”

“My God, they really have discovered the pinnacle of intellectual stimulation,” muttered Ben.

Xavier got up reluctantly and I stared at him in surprise.

“You’re not going, are you?” I said.

“The race is a Bryce tradition.” He laughed. “We do it every year wherever we are. But don’t worry, I never come in last.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Lawson crowed as he leapt off the porch and pelted toward the woods at the rear of the property. “Head start advantage!” The rest of the boys followed suit, shoving one another unceremoniously as they ran. They went crashing through the overgrown shrubs and headed for the open fields like a stampede.

Once they’d disappeared, I left Ben to his philosophical brooding and went inside to find Molly. She and the girls had moved and were now huddled secretively in a little cluster by the foot of the stairs. Abigail had a supersize paper bag tucked under her arm and they all looked very serious.

“Beth!” Molly clutched my arm when I joined them. “I’m glad you’re here; we’re about to get started.”

“Get started with what?” I asked with curiosity.

“The séance, of course.”

I groaned inwardly. So they hadn’t forgotten about it. I’d hoped the plan would be abandoned once the girls started having fun.

“You guys can’t be serious?” I said, but they were looking at me with complete sincerity. I tried a different technique. “Hey, Abby, Hank Hunt is out back. He looked like he could really use some company.”

Abigail had been crazy about Hank Hunt since junior high and hadn’t stopped going on about him all term. But tonight, not even he could distract her from the plan at hand.

“Who cares about him,” Abigail scoffed. “This is heaps more important — let’s go find an empty room.”

“No,” I said firmly, shaking my head. “C’mon, guys, can’t we find something else to do?”

“But it’s Halloween,” Hallie said, pouting like a child. “We want to talk to ghosts.”

“The dead should stay that way,” I snapped. “Can’t you go and bob for apples or something?”

“Don’t be such a party pooper,” Savannah said. She got up and began to drag me up the stairs after her. The others followed eagerly. “What could go wrong?”

“Is that a rhetorical question?” I said, pulling away. “What couldn’t go wrong?”

“You don’t actually believe in ghosts, do you, Bethie?” Madison asked. “We’re only trying to have some fun.”

“I just don’t think we should play around with this stuff.” I sighed.

“Fine, don’t come,” Hallie snapped. “Stay down here by yourself and wait for Xavier like you always do. We knew you’d bail anyway. We’ll have fun without you.” She shot me a betrayed look and the others nodded in support of her. I wasn’t having any luck impressing upon them the danger associated with their plan. How could you tell children they were playing with fire if they’d never had the experience of being burned? I wished Gabriel were here. He radiated authority and he’d know exactly what to say to change their minds. He had that effect on people. Here I was sounding like nothing more than a wet blanket. Some ministering angel I was turning out to be. I knew it wasn’t within my powers to stop them, but I couldn’t let them go without me. If anything happened, at least I could be there to deal with whatever they encountered on the other side. They were already climbing the stairs, clutching one another’s arms as they whispered in excitement.

“Guys,” I called out. “Wait up … I’m coming.”