Chasing Shadows (7 page)

I stood up, drawing Simon to his feet alongside me. "Let's get out of here."

Simon followed me outside, but I could see his emotions warring inside of him. His complexion was even paler than before and there was a stark desperation etched on his face that worried me. I hoped that after the shock of what happened wore off, he would be able to accept everything I had told him.

Simon nodded wordlessly when I told him to follow me in his car to Lenore's house. A part of me was afraid that Simon would drive off instead of following me, convinced that I was safer without him around, so I was relieved when he parked his car behind Lenore's when we arrived at her house.

"Let's get you cleaned up first," I said when we entered the house. I guided Simon into the bathroom where I gently cleaned his wound with a washcloth. I found antiseptic in the medicine cabinet and gently applied it. Simon was silent throughout the process, watching me with bottomless eyes. I would be lying if I didn't admit that I was nervous, fearful that Simon's vardoger would push out into the forefront again. But I told myself I couldn't be scared of Simon. He needed me and I needed him. That was all that mattered.

Simon stopped me when I turned to place the washcloth on the sink and took it from my hand.

"You're bleeding too," he said softly, gently wiping my mouth and chin where blood had dried. I had been so concerned about Simon that I forgot about my own injury, but it seemed of minimal importance with everything else that had happened.

Simon touched me reverently, the washcloth whispering against my skin. Simon dropped the washcloth and replaced it with his gentle fingers, softly caressing my face. His eyes searched mine before he spoke.

"Forgive me."

"Simon, there's nothing to forgive. It wasn't you-"

Simon shook his head, his thumb caressing my bottom lip silencing me. He leaned down, his mouth replacing his thumb. He kissed me softly, light and grazing as if he were trying to heal me with his lips. My heart tightened at his gesture, his profound gentleness shattering me.

"Forgive me," he repeated softly against my lips.

"I forgive you," I whispered, knowing that he needed this absolution, even though he was blameless. "I forgive you, Simon. I love you."

Simon groaned, crushing me to him, burying his face in my hair. "I can't put into words what I'm feeling right now. I'm mad and worried and scared shitless. I feel sick with what I've allowed to happen to you. I promised to keep you safe, but I'm the one that hurt you."

I gently pulled Simon's head back so I could see his face, cradling his head between my hands. "Simon, stop this. Stop blaming yourself. I need you. I need your help. You can't help me if you're too busy being consumed with guilt."

I knew this tactic would snap Simon out of it, and I was right. He took in a deep cleansing breath, exhaling slowly. "You're right." He held me close, his expression fierce. "I love you so much. Always remember that."

I nodded, placing a quick kiss on his lips, trying not to wince from the brief sting I felt from it. We went into the living room to look through Aunt Brenda's journal.

Aunt Brenda wasn't a very prolific writer. The entries were spaced out by weeks, sometimes by months. As I read through each entry, nothing jumped out at me. No clue as to how to destroy the newly evolved vardogers, no information about a metal that was able to make the powers of iridium obsolete. I was frustrated because I wasn't exactly sure what I was looking for.

Simon read over my shoulder, not commenting although I'm sure he sensed my growing impatience. I flipped the page to the last entry dated about two months ago, my stomach dropping as I read my aunt's words.

My dream last night haunted me like no other. I'm convinced it was a dream and not a vision, because it had nothing to do with vardogers. But Eunice seemed so alive in my dream. I haven't dreamed about her in years, and those dreams were just memories of happier days. But in my dream last night, Eunice was begging me for my help. She said her daughter was in trouble and I was the only one that could help her. I haven't seen Caitlin since she was a little girl, and nothing would make me happier than seeing her again, but I know George won't allow it. He's convinced that we're a bad influence, that we'll taint her somehow. I just pray that she's been spared the visions. It would be too cruel for her to experience them with no one to explain why she's having them. I'm so tempted to reach out to her, to talk to her despite George's warnings. But he's her father. I have to respect his wishes.

But that wasn't the most disturbing part of my dream. The most disturbing part was Eunice telling me I needed to help Caitlin until she could return to her. That she was coming back for her. What does that mean? Is Eunice still alive? I can't believe she would still be alive and not tell anyone, especially her own daughter. But maybe it's true. Her body was never found. I don't know what to make of all of this. It would be my greatest wish to have Eunice still alive. I miss my best friend. And more importantly, Caitlin needs a mother.

"She had a dream my mother was still alive," I whispered, looking up at Simon. "She said her body was never found. What if it's true?"

"I don't know, Caitlin," Simon said cautiously. "It was just a dream."

"Seers don't just have
dreams.
It has to mean something. I have to call my father. He might know something. Can I use your cell phone?"

Simon dug into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out my phone with a rueful smile. "I kept it with me, just in case you called it for some reason."

My father answered on the first ring, sounding gruff. Almost worried.

"Caitlin, where the hell have you been? Your friends called me, practically hysterical, looking for you."

"Dad, I'm alright. I just...needed to get away for a little bit."

My father let out a deep sigh, sounding weary. "That's what I told them. You need to learn to be less selfish."

I ignored his last comment. "Dad, I have to ask you a question. It's about Mom." There was nothing but silence on the other end of the phone so I continued. "How did she die? All anyone ever told me was that she was killed by a drunk driver. How exactly did it happen? Did you actually see her body?"

"Caitlin Kile, you are disgusting." My father's voice was shaking with rage, and I started to tremble. For all the years that my father had ridiculed me or acted condescendingly, I had never heard him speak to me in a tone so filled with fury. "How
dare
you ask me about your mother's body? What kind of sick game are you playing?"

"I just need to know the truth!" I cried out. "I'm tired of you never telling me about my mother, pretending like she never existed! Did you know Aunt Brenda dreamed that Mom was still alive?"

"What the hell are you doing talking to Brenda? I've made it explicitly clear to her that she's never to contact you!"

"She's missing, Dad!" I choked out. "She's missing and I think she might be in trouble." I lowered my voice, the lump in my throat making it hard for me to speak. "I know you know about the visions."

My father's voice seethed with anger. "My sister is a lunatic, and I was always afraid you'd turn out just like her. It seems my fears were correct. You're as insane as she is."

"Dad, she's disappeared," I sobbed, not able to hold back tears. I couldn't believe how cold my father was being. No matter how much he had mistreated me in the past, I still believed he loved me. That belief was quickly being destroyed. "Your sister is missing and I think I'm next."

"Don't call me again until you've pulled yourself together," my father commanded icily, the frigid tone replacing his anger. "Don't make me regret not having you committed."

He hung up abruptly and I slowly lowered the phone. Simon was watching me with concern, but I couldn't face him. I buried my face in my hands, unwilling to believe my father could be so cruel.

"Caitlin." I felt gentle hands on me, pulling my face up. I saw a mixture of sorrow and anger on Simon's face. "I couldn't help but hear what your father said. He's an asshole and doesn't deserve you for a daughter."

Simon pulled me close and I clung to him, my body wracked with sobs. I let it all out, the grief of realizing how little my father cared for me, the stress of the past few days, the fear that everything was whirling out of control and I had no idea how to stop it. Simon held me through all of it until I finally quieted down, left with nothing but an empty ache inside me. I pulled away when I felt like I had my emotions under control.

"Are you okay?"

I nodded, feeling embarrassed that Simon had heard my father's cruel words. I didn't want him to be a witness to my father's disdain for me. Even though it wasn't my fault, I still felt mortified by it. It was hard to look Simon in the eye so I lowered my gaze to my lap.

"Hey," Simon said softly, raising my head up again with a crooked finger. "It's not your fault. I've never met your father, but something is seriously wrong with him to speak to you like that. You're the most amazing girl I've ever met, especially now that I know everything you've been through. You're strong, beautiful, smart and courageous. Don't let your father take that away from you."

Simon knew exactly what I was feeling, and his words were a soothing balm. I tried to smile, although it was tremulous at best.

"Thank you."

Simon leaned in and rained light kisses on my tear-stained face, like he was trying to heal my wounds. When his lips finally found mine, I found all the love I had been craving my entire life.

Simon's eyes were ablaze with desire when we pulled apart but he gave me a wry smile. "With everything going on, I still can't keep my hands off you. What does that say about me?"

"It's says that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me." Simon's expression turned even more intense and he leaned in closer, but I stopped him with gentle hands on his shoulders. "Wait, I should call Sarah. I'm sure she's worried sick, and I want to let her know I'm okay. I'm worried too. If...if your vardoger has possessed your body, maybe the same thing happened to her."

I quickly pressed the button on my cell phone for Sarah, frowning when it went straight to voicemail. I left a brief message telling her I was okay and to call me back as soon as she got my voicemail.

"She didn't pick up," I said, worriedly, as I checked the time. "She doesn't have class right now, she should be home. I hope she's okay."

Simon grabbed his phone. "I'll call Grant and ask him to check on her."

My concern was growing with each second as Simon waited for Grant to answer.

"Hey, Grant." Simon paused for a moment. "Yeah, I found her. She's okay. Listen, have you seen Sarah today?" I watched Simon talking to Grant, straining to hear Grant on the other end but he was speaking too quietly.

"Do you mind checking to see if she's in her apartment? I'll wait on the phone." Simon squeezed my hand reassuringly, although it wasn't quite effective since I could see the concern in his eyes.

"Tell him to use his spare key to go inside our apartment," I whispered and Simon obliged. I didn't feel any better when Simon's lips tightened as he listened to Grant.

"No? Can you check with Jenny and Marcus to see if they've seen her or heard from her? She left last night on the train and we're a little worried that she has her phone turned off. I watched her get on the train so she has to be back at school." Simon paused, nodding as he listened to Grant. "Okay, thanks. Call me as soon as you hear anything."

"She's not there," I said flatly, a statement instead of a question because it was clear, from Simon's end of the conversation, that no one had seen her.

"She could just be on campus or something. Or maybe she's somewhere that doesn't get cell phone reception. Grant is going to check with Jenny and Marcus and look for her."

"She never turns off her phone! Never!" It was physically painful to consider the possibility that something had happened to Sarah. "We need to get back to Maxwell."

Simon was in full agreement and we left immediately. Now that I had found Aunt Brenda's journal, there was nothing left for me here. Certainly not my aunt or her inner circle. They had vanished into thin air. I glanced at Simon's grim profile as he drove, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. I wondered if he would disappear too. I didn't know if that was a worse fate than his vardoger destroying his soul.

Chapter Seven

The drive to Rochester was excruciating. We kept in constant contact with Grant throughout the drive, and I was getting frantic with each hour that Sarah wasn't found. Her phone was still turned off and she was nowhere to be seen, her car still sitting in the driveway. We didn't explain to Grant why we were so worried because it would be a ludicrous conversation to have over the phone, but we didn't need to provide any added incentive for Grant to grow concerned. He sensed our anxiety and it seemed to fuel his own. I was beginning to realize how much he cared for Sarah.

We only stopped once to fill up on gas and buy stale sandwiches. Neither of us were hungry, but we forced ourselves to eat. It was late afternoon by the time we reached Maxwell, and it was bizarre seeing students loitering about, leading normal lives and having no idea that they might be on the brink of being overtaken by a vardoger. It was so ludicrous that I wanted to laugh, although humor was the last thing I was feeling.

Grant burst out of his apartment the second we pulled up into the driveway. He looked frazzled, anxiety making his features look drawn. "What the hell is going on? Why won't you tell me what's happening?"

Simon took a deep breath, motioning towards the stairs. "Let's go upstairs first. You're going to need to sit down for this."

I shot him a look as we went up to my apartment. I wasn't sure how much I wanted to tell Grant. I was pretty sure Grant would try to commit us to an insane asylum if we tried to explain the existence of vardogers.

My apartment looked exactly the same as it did when I left, but it was no comfort. I knew that the lack of a struggle didn't mean Sarah hadn't been abducted. Or worse.