Sing Sweet Nightingale (18 page)

Everything I learn about Hudson further convinces me he knows things that should be impossible. Secrets I took a vow of silence to protect.

“Hudson!” I hear my mother call a little while later. “Take a break. Want some lunch?”

He nods and sets his tools down. And I realize I’m still standing at the window, watching him work.

My cheeks heat up, and I pull back before he notices me. I wasn’t watching
him;
I was thinking and happened to be staring in his direction. He’s not handsome compared to Orane. He’s scarred and way too tall and just…strange.

I know my mother will come to collect me for lunch soon, so I head downstairs, slipping my new amethyst into the pocket of my pajama pants. I should leave it behind, keep my distance, but I have to figure this out. Plus, the color reminds me of Orane.

Hudson is coming in from the backyard as I reach the bottom of the stairs. My nightingale is in my hand, and as he looks at it, the small smile on his face disappears.

“You know the funny thing about dreams?” he asks. My heart stops, and I stare up at him. He waits a beat, his black eyes locked on me. “It’s amazing how fast one that seems like paradise can turn into a nightmare.”

There’s that word again. Paradise. It’s normal on its own, but coming twice from the same person? And now he’s talking about dreams? Out of nowhere and without any lead-in. He throws it out there the way someone might comment on the weather.

Without another word, he turns and heads into the downstairs bathroom.

“Oh, good! You’re down.” My mother smiles and nods toward the dining room. “Can you set the table, Mari?”

She heads into the kitchen, but I’m locked on the bottom step, my heart racing and my hands trembling. Maybe I didn’t explain all these oddities about Hudson to Orane right. Last night’s conversation is fuzzy, but I think I told him everything. Obviously, I need to tell him again. Why would Hudson say something like that if he hasn’t seen Paradise?

I sit through lunch, letting the conversation wash over me, but I watch Hudson out of the corner of my eye. If he’s seen Paradise and doesn’t know to keep it secret, he may be putting everything I love in danger. But how can I convince him to keep his silence without breaking my own promise to Orane?

When I shove the tasteless sandwich in my mouth as fast as possible and clear my plate away, Hudson’s gaze follows me across the room. I want to talk to him—or at least pass him a list of questions and wait until he answers every single one of them—but I can’t. Not until I talk to Orane. And I can’t do that until I go to this party I agreed to attend.

Maybe it was a mistake to agree to go. What do I know about this guy? And I’m going to let him drive me to a party filled with people I don’t like well enough to remember? What was I thinking?

It seemed like a good idea when K.T. asked, to leave the feedback behind and figure out what Hudson might know. Now?

I glance at Hudson as he looks my way, those dark eyes watching me closely.

Now, I’m not so sure.

Fifteen

Hudson

Saturday, August 30 – 8:54 PM

Dinner at Mariella’s was an exercise in invisibility.

She wouldn’t acknowledge my presence. I kept kicking myself for that idiotic line about dreams turning into nightmares, but I couldn’t help it when I saw that stupid bird in her hand. It’s too strongly linked in my head to the image of her combusting into a fireball, her screams heard by no one. I’ve never touched the thing, and I still hate it. I want to grab it out of her hand and shatter it against the wall.

I want to, but I think that’d piss her off more than a little.

Mariella heads upstairs after dinner, and Dana watches her go. “Um, let me make sure she still wants to go, okay?”

Dana barely glances at me as she follows her daughter up the stairs. After a second, Frank excuses himself, too.

“Why do I get the feelin’ it’s your fault that girl was in a mood?” Horace mutters.

“Because you’re a pessimist.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” He huffs, and the corner of his lips twitch. “Went over to that store you told me about and bought the place out.”

“Thought I did that yesterday.” Dawn only had a few small stones by the time I left.

“Didn’t say I got anything
useful
,” he grumbles, rubbing the crown of his head. “But after what happened last night, I’d rather have a house of expensive, useless rocks than wake up and find you dead.”

And the last thing I want is to head upstairs and find out the demon switched targets. Guess I can’t fault him for caution.

When Dana comes back down, she’s got a bemused smile on her face.

“She’s getting ready. Give her a couple of minutes?”

I make small talk until I hear Mariella’s feet on the stairs. It’s warm outside, but she’s dressed for autumn. Her jeans might have fit at one point, but they hang loose on her thin frame, and the rest of her is nearly lost in an oversized black hoodie. The one spot of bright color is the braid of golden hair hanging over her shoulder.

The weirdest part is, it doesn’t matter. Even dressed like she’s trying to disappear under her clothes, the girl is gorgeous.

Don’t be stupider than you need to be
, I remind myself.
Remember Calease? The last glowing girl you talked to tried to kill you
.

“Ready to go?”

Mariella shrugs and steps toward the door. I wonder how K.T. got her to agree to come. She doesn’t look thrilled to be going anywhere with me.

“Have her home by eleven?” Dana asks as we leave.

“No problem.” I don’t want to be out in the open at midnight. And as much as I want to keep her away from the dreamworld, I’m not ready to try.

Mariella slides into the tiny backseat of the Camaro until we drop Horace off. When he gets out, he pulls the seat forward and reaches in to help Mariella into the front. She hesitates, but I shake my head and crook my finger at her.

“C’mon. I won’t bite, and I don’t like playing chauffeur.”

Sighing, she takes Horace’s hand and switches seats, plopping into the passenger side and buckling herself in.

“Have fun,” Horace says as he closes her door. The way he says it makes it sound a lot more like “good luck.”

On the way to Danny’s, I try to find something to say to break the silence. The best I can come up with is, “These people aren’t insane or anything, right?”

She glances at me, her forehead wrinkled.

“You grew up here, didn’t you?”

Mariella nods, but she doesn’t look any less confused.

“So you know these kids. You gotta warn me if any of them are crazy or something.”

The creases in her forehead deepen, and she looks away. The glass bird is locked in her left hand, but her right comes up to her mouth and she starts nibbling on the ends of her nails.

What is going through her head? It’s like she doesn’t know the people she must’ve gone to school with since she was five. Calease stole a whole bunch of my memories, but they were bits and pieces centered on the skill she was trying to take. She took the memories of my fights and replaced them with fakes that made me believe her when she told me I used to be a monster. Calease did her work so well I didn’t realize anything was missing until it all flooded back into my head. It seems like all Mariella has left is a void. How much more has this demon stolen from her?

The party is in full swing by the time we get there, and the street is so packed we have to park down the block. Music spills out from the house and people sit on the lawn. A few of them are smoking.

As soon as we’re spotted, the whispers start. I’m the stranger, so at first, all the stares are focused on me, but then someone recognizes Mariella.

“Holy shit! Isn’t that the mute girl?”

“What the hell is she doing here?”

Mariella tenses, but her face is completely blank. Pretending she can’t hear them.

Why do people assume one deficiency comes with another? Just because she’s mute doesn’t mean she’s
deaf
. People are morons. I step closer to her and glare at the whisperers, not caring when they jump at the sight of my eyes.

We barely make it into the house before K.T. appears in front of us, a huge grin on her face.

“You made it!” She pulls Mariella into a hug; I’m surprised by how easily Mariella gives in to the gesture. K.T. glances at me and waves before her attention goes back to Mariella.

“Are you hungry? Do you want a drink or anything?” K.T. takes Mariella’s arm and guides her deeper into the house.

Mariella shakes her head, her eyes wide as she looks around. The party is loud but tame. There’s a group of guys playing Ping-Pong on the back porch, some girls wiggling in a way that might be dancing in the hallway, and a mixed group playing
Mario Kart
in the living room. I try to see it the way Mariella must see it after spending so much time alone.

She’s gotta be overloading—and we just walked in.

“Want to go out to the backyard?” I ask her.

She jumps a little but nods quickly, her eyes wide.

Yeah, this is going great. She’s so freaked there’s no way I’ll be able to get anything out of her tonight.

K.T. sighs and lets go of Mariella’s arm before she bolts for the back door. Mariella nearly knocks one of the Ping-Pong players over as she rushes past. They hurl protests at her and immediately return to the game as she runs down the steps, through the crowded backyard, and keeps going.

I follow as close as I can without looking like I’m chasing her but stop past the last of the folding picnic tables set up behind the porch. K.T. comes up next to me, and together we watch Mariella reach a corner of the yard, sink down to the grass, and pull her legs into her chest. She surveys the house with her chin resting on her knees, but the expression on her face is so strange. It’s like she can’t figure out what she’s seeing or why anyone is acting the way they are. She’s like an alien who’s been plopped down on our planet with minimal knowledge of human behavior and she can’t quite grasp any of it.

“Do you believe in faeries and demons?” K.T. asks.

I glance at her, but her face doesn’t tell me anything. That question comes out of nowhere and is way too close to something
I
would like to ask
her
. And she’s playing with the bracelet again, the same one she had in my dream.

Looking back at Mariella, I nod. “Yes.”

“Magic?”

“Yeah.”

“Curses?”

“Depends on how you mean. Most stories about curses sound like someone used them as an excuse for failing epically at something.”

We’re both watching when Mariella reaches into the front pocket of her hoodie and takes out the amethyst I gave her, but only I can see the blue sparks that shoot up her arm as soon as her hand closes around it.

“Why’d you give her an amethyst?”

“Because it’s supposed to help clear away negative energy.”

“Like a curse?”

“I don’t know…just negative energy.”

Her mouth lifts as she looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “You don’t trust people easily, do you?”

“And you never stop asking questions, do you?”

She smiles. “Not really.”

“Well, same answer.” The single reason I have to trust K.T. is because she showed up in a dream, and that’s not enough. The demons show up in my dreams every so often, too—doesn’t mean I’m going to trust them. Horace is the sole person who’s never let me down. Trust doesn’t come easily.

“You want to know why I decided to help you spend time with Mari?”

I nod.

“Because of how you said it. You didn’t ask because she’s pretty or because she looked lonely or any of that. You thought she needed
help
. Before you knew she was mute, you thought she needed help.”

“That’s it?”

K.T. falls silent, her gaze locked across the dimly lit yard where Mariella is watching us with the same confused frustration with which we’re watching her.

“You know what most people in this town see when they look at Mariella?” K.T. barely pauses before she shakes her head. “Nothing. They see right through her like she doesn’t exist. When I told Danny she was coming, he couldn’t remember who she was.”

“I’m not sure Mariella remembers anyone else either,” I say after a few seconds.

“She doesn’t.” K.T. crosses her arms over her chest, but it looks less defensive and more like she’s trying to give herself a hug. “I’ve reintroduced myself every time I’ve seen her for the past four years. Even during the school year when we saw each other every day.”

“That’s… Wow. Really?” I can’t imagine that. I can remember everyone I’ve seen on a daily basis. How does Mariella function? Is she passing her classes in school if she can barely remember going? But then I realize something. “She remembered me from last night.”

K.T.’s head whips toward me, her eyes wide. “Seriously?”

“Yeah.” Mariella is lying on her back now, her hood pulled up over her hair. I don’t know if she’s sleeping or staring at the sky, but she’s obviously lost interest in the house. “She wasn’t exactly thrilled to see me, but she knew who I was.”

“Hmm.” She glances at Mariella, then up at the dark sky, chewing on her bottom lip. Muttering something I don’t catch, she covers her face with her hands. I wait. K.T. knows something. All these questions about magic and demons and curses? She
has
to know.

Then she takes a deep breath, and I tense, waiting for whatever she has to say.

“One morning, my sister Emily told me there’s another world only a few people can see.”

My breath catches in my throat, my hands clench, and my pulse pounds faster. Her
sister
? That’s the association? But her sister is in a coma. How does she connect?

K.T. watches me as though she’s judging my reaction to see if she should tell me anything else. Whatever she sees keeps her talking.

“I told my parents about that when she dropped into a coma on her eighteenth birthday. They told me to stop making up stories.”

She knows what it’s like; that’s what she’s trying to tell me. K.T. understands what it’s like to have this piece of information in your head no one else will believe.