THE PAWN IN PLAY

It was nearly a week before my brain recovered fully from my encounter with the thin man. In the meantime, I flunked my first test ever. Ironically, it was in Intro to Japanese. Ryu laughed when I told him, while Vi was quietly concerned. I pretended to be nonchalant while panicking in secret. The truth was, I’d tried studying, but my mind was like a saturated sponge, incapable of absorbing any new information.

Slowly, however, the side effects wore off and my head returned to normal. Rather than have my parents find out, I begged my teacher to let me take a makeup test or do extra credit. She wasn’t on board with grading extra projects, but given the problems at Blackbriar recently, she cut me some slack because she’d seen me with Brittany and Russ. Now with Jen gone and Cameron MIA, she saw the writing on the wall. The second time I took the exam, I got a B. Not my usual A+, but I kept that score. Under the circumstances, I had to perform some triage, cut myself some slack for not pulling A + s when my life was imploding.

When word circulated that Cameron had taken off, I wanted to tell someone what I knew, but I had no idea what to say. The truth would get me locked up, and admitting I was with him when it happened might turn me into a murder suspect, though they couldn’t convict me without a body. The dog-girl video gave me clear motive, and gossip could be vicious. So I choked down my desire to confess and kept quiet.

Two weeks into November, things went from bad to worse at school. It started in first period; Nicole was sitting at her desk as usual. No matter how early I arrived, she was always there, and I was starting to wonder if she slept in Mr. Love’s room. He was talking to a couple of other students, but I sensed that he was aware of her … and darkly amused. Allison strolled in—why, I had no idea since she didn’t even have Lit—and propped a hip against his desk. In comparison, she was a tropical flower whereas Nicole had become a sepia photo.

Allison said something to Mr. Love, pitched too low for the rest of us to catch, but he laughed quietly. Nic’s head came up, and her eyes narrowed. She stormed from her desk to his, scowling at Allison, who threw her a mocking look. Then, deliberately, Allison touched Mr. Love on the arm to catch his attention.

Nicole snapped. With a snarl, she whipped a switchblade out of her pocket and slashed. Allison skittered back but not in time; red bloomed through the sleeve of her blazer. Another girl screamed while someone else ran for the headmaster. Allison wrapped a hand around the wound and I shrugged off my jacket, offering to her as Mr. Love grabbed Nicole’s arms. Too slow, asshole. You wanted this.

Nic screamed the minute he touched her, the raw, wordless cry of an animal in pain. At first she struggled and fought like a crazy thing, but by the time the headmaster arrived, she was sobbing with snot streaming down her chin. In the chaos of so many people talking at once, trying to explain what happened, I escorted Allison to the nurse. But we were only halfway there when she unwrapped my blazer from her wounded arm and gave it back.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’m fine,” she said. “Just a scratch.”

The blood that gushed from that slice said otherwise. “I’m pretty sure you need to go to the hospital for some stitches.”

Her green eyes held a mocking light. “Do I?”

Then she showed me the blood-smeared skin. Sure, it was stained red, but there was no wound. “That’s impossible.”

“Not so much, human girl. They seem completely human, but tragedy, discord, and despair follow in their wake. You will know these demons because they are not born of woman and have no navel.” With a faintly feline smile, she tugged up her school shirt to show me smooth skin.

Jen saw you looking up psychic vampires. And it was Jen who brought you into the group. Is she … did she…? I had no proof that she was actually in Thailand, and I hated the fear and doubt that swamped me.

“It’s tough not knowing who your true friends are,” Allison said sweetly.

You? I was so sure it was him,” I blurted.

Her lazy smile didn’t shift. “He’s a monster but not one of ours.”

I glanced at her wrists, but they were unmarked.

“What faction are you?” I demanded.

She smirked. “Don’t you get it? Every game needs spectators.”

“But … my ears don’t ring around you.” To my surprise, she didn’t seem confused.

“Some of us are … natural to the world, not dreamed up by humans. And we don’t set off alarm bells in those predisposed to sensitivity.”

“Ah.” That made sense. “But … Russ, before he died—”

“Humans who are feeding a nightmare become attuned to the predator.”

“I’m not sure what that means.”

She rolled her eyes. “You know how a chameleon changes colors?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s like that, only in a parasitic exchange the human gives off a … false positive. To someone like you.”

Allison fixed her blouse and sauntered toward the main office. “I’m done tutoring you now. Thanks for the help.” Such pleasure in the last two words.

How does—whatever she is—reproduce? No belly button. Quickly I ran through what I knew, biologically speaking. Parthenogenesis, asexual, gemmules, sporulation—that one gave me a shivery twinge—budding, regeneration. Dammit. It’s not like I can figure this out now. I had so many questions, though she’d answered a few.

Obviously I had miscalculated, so I raced back to Lit class, where things had calmed down a little, but no learning took place that morning. Since one student had attacked another, the police questioned everyone and they took a dim view of why there were no security screenings like in public schools; they didn’t seem persuaded that affluent students were less prone to hurting each other, given today’s events. The headmaster wore a hunted look as he foresaw his prestigious school reputation swirling down the drain. In the end, he dismissed us early, probably so he could consult his attorneys, find out about liability, and decide the best spin on this mess when he talked to the board.

Instead of rushing out along with everyone else, I headed for Lit. Part of me suspected the instigator would’ve already run off, but I found him packing his briefcase like nothing had happened. When he saw me in the doorway, he smiled.

“What can I do for you, Edie?”

“I may not be able to prove you did this, but there will be questions. They’ll dig into your relationship with Nicole and see how much time she spent with you.”

He didn’t profess innocence or confusion, as I half expected, but when he spoke, he lost the British accent. Instead, he sounded guttural, like an enormous thing, speaking from man-skin. “Darling girl, you claim to know what I am, but you have no idea. Run along now, before I teach you.”

I made the thin man back off. It’ll take more than you to frighten me. That was bravado, but it kept my feet planted.

“I don’t think so. You’re done here. If you come back tomorrow, I’ll find a way to make you pay.” That was a bluff; since I had no idea what the hell he was, I didn’t know how to punish him.

He rushed me. It never occurred to me to fear a physical attack, but he swung at my head and in reflex, I threw up my left arm to block. Red light sparked from the kanji brand on my wrist, flinging him halfway across the room. Mr. Love landed hard and whacked his head against the desk. In a normal human, that might’ve been enough to kill him, but he staggered to his feet, cracked his neck in a grotesque fashion, popping the broken column back into place and rolling his shoulders. But he didn’t come at me again.

Instead he studied me with an expression of growing delight. “Ah. So you’re what drew me here, little queen.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t feign ignorance, it doesn’t suit you.” His gaze lingered on my mark, the one that meant Property of the Game. “Do you suspect what lies ahead? I wonder.”

“Are you part of the opposition?”

He laughed, a rumbling sound like thunder. “Not all of us choose to play. Some of us prefer to watch … and make wagers. I think I’ll bet on how long you’ll live.”

“Are you related to Allison somehow?”

He shook his head. “But you know that already. Testing me?”

“What are you?”

“Your kind dreamed of me, so I came. I’ll let you work it out.” He strolled past, whistling, so cheerful I resisted the urge to throw something at his back. At the doorway he paused to add, “When I don’t return, don’t imagine it has anything to do with you. Instead, rest assured that I got what I came for.”

Since I’d be crazy to take him at his word, I followed Mr. Love out of the building. The halls were deserted, just the click of our shoes. He looked so normal in his overcoat, briefcase in one hand; I might never believe what my eyes told me again. The immortal—whatever he was—headed for the front gate without looking back. His shoes tapped briskly against the walkway and I rushed after him.

Overhead, the sky was gray with threatening rain. Fat droplets spattered my face, and though I looked away only for a second, when I checked the front gate again, he was gone. There was only a huge black bird wheeling lazily above the trees. With bright, beady eyes, it dove toward me, claws outstretched, and I swung at it with my bag. Its raucous cry sounded almost like laughter.

“Well, that was donked up,” Davina called, running up to me. “Was that crow rabid? I swear, this school gets weirder by the day, and my mom will have a shit fit when she finds out about Nicole. I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t homeschool me.”

“Maybe that would be safer.”

“Can’t argue.” She proffered a red umbrella.

As I stepped under the brim with her, the clouds opened up, spattering my bare legs and soaking my shoes and socks. That fast, it was pouring rain with the wind carrying it along in slanted sheets.

Davina shivered. “Man, I hate November. You want to come over for a while? We can study together.”

“If my mom says it’s okay.” It was hard to stay close enough to her not to get drenched while making the call, but I managed, and by the time we got to the station, I had permission to hang out until five.

On the train, she didn’t say much, but that was a defense mechanism, (best not to attract attention.

You never knew when pervs would take accidental eye contact as encouragement—and since we were both young and pretty, the danger was twofold.

Afterward, as we walked to her building, the rain slowed enough for it not to be miserable. Davina led the way and unlocked her front door; nobody was home, which explained why she’d wanted me to come. After the crap at school, I wasn’t on board with cozying up to my own thoughts, either.

She dumped her backpack by the door, and headed for the kitchen. “I can make tea or hot chocolate, the powder packet kind.”

“I’m sensing you want a warm beverage.”

“Hot chocolate,” she decided.

The kettle took five minutes to whistle, then we mixed the instant chocolate and added marshmallows. Davina’s place was warm and inviting, full of crafty things like handmade pillows and throws. It was obvious that she didn’t come from money, but I felt more at home here than in Jen’s ultramodern mansion. Once we finished our drinks, she beckoned me to her bedroom and shut the door behind us.

“I might be a little slow, but I’m pretty sure I’ve put the pieces together.”

“We’re not studying?” Whatever she thought she knew, it wouldn’t be good.

“You were in full meltdown when we left Cameron’s party. Then, a few days later, we find out that nobody’s seen him since that night. What did you see, Edie?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

Call me paranoid, but not until I checked something. “Let me see your belly button.”

Davina raised a brow, but she pushed up her shirt to reveal an innie. “Is this like reading tea leaves or something?”

I released a nervous chuckle. What the hell. So I filled her in, explaing how Nicole attached Allison, the cut sealed over, and she had no navel—then Mr. Love went nuts on me. I pretended to have no idea how these events related. For her safety, I left out everything related to the game; I was afraid too much information might make her a target, and I only had one favor left. There was no way I could protect everyone as I had Vi, much to my dismay.

“This shit is full-on crazy,” she said finally. “You mentioned you thought Mr. Love was shady, but this—”

“I know.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but can I see your belly button?”

I giggled as I showed it to her, and the situation didn’t seem as grim if we could laugh. Though I couldn’t give her the big picture, the conversation cheered me up. We didn’t come up with any solutions, but I felt less alone. At quarter past four I got up to leave.

“You know I’ve got your back at school, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“See you tomorrow, unless the place burns down. Which wouldn’t surprise me.”

I hurried down the sidewalk, trying to get to the station before the rain started up again. If anything, it was darker than it had been, a worse storm on the horizon. There was scant foot traffic in Davina’s neighborhood on the six-block walk to the T station. A few birds nestled on ledges of buildings; even more perched on the wires and they stared as I quickened my pace. Maybe I was imagining it, but they turned their heads almost all the way around, just watching.

I ran the rest of the way.

On the train, it was better, until I noticed the shadows following the car, tendrils of darkness slinking along the block walls. Each time we left a station, they swelled and drew closer, only to be driven back by the bright crackle of fluorescent lighting at the next stop. I hopped off a little sooner than I should have. Rain or no, I’d walk home from here.

The lull in the weather held just long enough for me to get to my street, then the sky dumped buckets on me, not just stinging rain but hail, too. Ice pelted me, raising red welts on my skin, and I was panting when I got to the front stoop. Shoving through to the foyer, I almost ran into Mr. Lewis, who was inexplicably carrying a hammer. He said something about a horseshoe and wind chimes.

“What?”

“I can’t find one,” he told me. “An old one is best, one that’s grown rusty and strong over the years. I put up wind chimes, but the building manager made me take them down.”

“Wind chimes?”

“To keep the old ones out,” he reminded me impatiently.

“Why can you see them?” Nobody else could who wasn’t part of the game.

“Those who are close to death can see beyond the mortal caul.” That didn’t help a whole lot, and I guessed he read that in my expression. So he clarified, “Stage-four lung cancer. I don’t have long.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged, as if that were the least of his problems. “I’ve got a mezuzah here. Don’t know if it’ll do the job. The rabbi at the synagogue might’ve been humoring me.”

“Thank you for trying to keep us safe.”

The old man smiled at me. “What else do I have to do?”

As I headed upstairs, he hung the scroll case, muttering about the need for precision. My mom was home since it was her turn to stand guard over me. I got in just before five, proving I could be trusted. She smiled at me, setting down her pencil. From what I could tell, she was truly trying to build a better relationship with me, and I loved her for the effort.

“How was school?”

If I don’t tell her, she’ll find out from Blackbriar. So I said, “Scary,” and then told her how an obsessed student assaulted another girl over a cute teacher. Her eyes widened and she pulled off her glasses, absently polishing them on her sweater as she listened. I concluded, “So that’s why there’s blood on my jacket. It’s not mine.”

“How horrible! This term has just been … tragic. What’s changed, I wonder?” From her expression, she was half a step from launching an experiment with control groups to determine why Blackbriar was no longer the safe haven she paid for.

“I wish I knew.” That wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Are you all right? Do you need to talk to someone?” How ironic she kept asking me that this year.

“I’m okay,” I said.

Then I fled to my room, supposedly to work on assignments. She must’ve filled my dad in because he was especially solicitous when I came out for dinner. They were both trying so hard to be more emotionally available; it didn’t come easy since their natural state was to be completely absorbed in whatever research had captured their attention, and I basked in the surety that they did love me, even if they sometimes sucked at showing it.

As soon as I thought that, my wrist blazed. So it’s better if I think my parents don’t care? Why that would influence my future, I had no idea. As always, I had on a hoodie in the house. Since my parents preferred to keep the heating bill low, they didn’t question it. Summer might offer problems in that regard.

Later, I didn’t feel like talking to Vi, so I e-mailed her instead of signing on for our usual chat. I went to bed early, disturbed by the heat in my right arm. The feeling was similar to when Davina and I went to New Hampshire. Eventually, I fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by nightmares of the thin man.

I woke with a start, but I wasn’t in my bed. Instead, I stood in the kitchen, a knife in my right hand. A thin trickle of blood spilled from my abdomen, a clean slice through my pajama top. With a stifled cry, I dropped the blade in the sink, ran water over it, and then bolted, aware I needed help, but there was no one to save me. If I called Kian, he’d try to bargain for my safety, and I couldn’t bear for him to sacrifice anything else for my sake.

I am alone.

In the bathroom, I raised my shirt to inspect the slice. Not deep. Shallow, like I’m a cutter. The implication scared me more than the actual wound. It’s a warning. They can get to you. It took all my composure to tend the wound and tape some gauze over it. Remembering the girl in the mirror, I didn’t linger there for fear of what I’d see. Retreating to my bedroom didn’t make me feel safer—only trapped, with nowhere to run.

Teeth chattering, I turned up the heat, which steamed up the room. Trickles of moisture ran down the foggy panes like tears, and then one by one, handprints appeared on my windows, like something lurked beyond my sight, waiting to get in. I imagined it watching me as I slept. A whimper escaped me as I crept closer, expecting to see the little girl-thing, but there was only mist. I touched the cool glass and discovered what I feared most to be true.

The palm prints were on the outside.

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