The Blood Between Us (18 page)

Authors: Zac Brewer

CHAPTER 16
END POINT:

A known pH point of an acid and base interaction as shown by a chemical indicator change in color

The scar on my cheek had healed, but a fresh wound now occupied my entire being. Viktor’s body, dressed in one of his favorite suits, was laying in a black coffin lined with purple satin at the front of the room. He had died peacefully in his sleep three nights before, five months after Quinn. After all my plans to return to San Diego, I’d remained at Wills. Even though it was just Grace and me now. And Julian, of course.

To my left sat Josh, dressed in a suit that made his eyes shine. He was quiet, but just having him there made me feel
supported. Every once in a while, we’d exchange glances that told me that he was there for me when I needed him. And I did. More than he might ever know.

Caroline was sitting to the other side of Josh. Her wound from the explosion had healed long ago, and we’d spent more than a few nights sitting quietly on Maggie’s hood, eating terrible pizza and watching the stars. She never made me talk about anything I didn’t want to talk about . . . which is what good friends did, I supposed.

Several people had stood and said wonderful things about my godfather, but I found that words were lost to me. How can something as strong and profound as love be summed up in a mere few words? So I sat in the front row, watching as relatives, friends, neighbors, and colleagues approached the casket in a neat line to say their final good-byes.

I vowed at that moment that I never would.

I would mourn him, yes. I would miss him and think of him often. But I would never say good-bye to Viktor. Just as I had never said good-bye to my parents.

Julian had been busying himself playing host, making certain every guest had a drink or a napkin or whatever else they needed to keep his tears at bay. But his eyes were red. His cheeks were wet. There was no denying the agony that he had suffered from losing his best friend and husband.
I wondered if I would ever understand that pain. Maybe. Someday.

I reached up and straightened my tie, tightening the knot, the way that Viktor would have wanted me to. As I stared down at my freshly polished oxfords, I saw a pair of heels step up next to me. The wearer took her seat, and when I looked at her, there were no words.

Stretching my hand out, I cupped her hand in mine and gave it a comforting squeeze. The past, after all, was the past.

Grace laid her head on my shoulder and cried.

I brushed her hair from her brow and placed a gentle kiss there—the kind I’d always hoped our mother would give me in a moment when I’d needed comforting.

Grace said, “I’m sorry, Adrien. I’m so sorry. For everything. I was just so angry with you, so angry with Dad. That day we took the picture, I stole the pages from Dad’s journal because I wanted to punish him. For playing favorites with you—for fighting with Mom. I don’t know if he ever even noticed. I never got a chance to tell him I was wrong.”

I put my arm around her and gave her a squeeze, whispering into her hair, “I’m sorry, too. But we’re family. And we’ll always have that.”

As Julian stepped up to the podium, his eyes shimmering with sorrow, he unfolded the speech he’d carefully
written the night before. He’d barely spoken Viktor’s name when the dam inside of me broke and tears streamed down my cheeks.

The rest of the funeral was a blur.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

As people, we are constantly changing, growing, shaping into the best version of ourselves possible. Sometimes it feels like we are making these changes in a vacuum, all by our lonesome. But the truth is, we are surrounded by people who watch us change and grow and, if we’re lucky, support us along the way. I’m very blessed to be surrounded by people who have had my back in more ways than one. These people—not all of them blood relatives, not all of them even human—are my family, in so many ways, and I owe them an enormous amount of gratitude.

Many thanks to the best damn editor in the universe, Andrew Harwell. If Hogwarts is indeed real, I know one day we’ll find it together. You have no idea how much you have impacted my life and lifted me up. I’m so grateful for our friendship, and lucky to have you on my side.

My eternal gratitude to the most kick-ass agent in the literary world, Michael Bourret. MB, we’ve been together for over a decade, and every time I’ve stumbled or cried, you’ve
picked me up and dried my tears. You are a true friend, a wonderful champion, and not allowed to stop being an agent ever.

So much love to my team at Harper. Rosemary, Kate, Olivia, all of you! Thank you so much for being so kind, so hardworking, so generous. My life would not be the same without you!

Huge hugs to my big sister, Dawn Vanniman, who has always been the voice of reason in my life. Dawn, when the world makes no sense at all, I can always count on you to raise an eyebrow with me. I love you.

Mad love to my Society Sisters and to every independent bookstore out there.

And of course, my deepest love, appreciation, and thanks go to the Brewer Clan. Paul, Jacob, and Alexandria—the three of you are home to me, no matter where any of us might be. You are my Elysia, my family, my friends, my saviors, and I would do anything for you. Just ask. I love you all more than anything in this world or the next (except for the kittehs . . . because kittehs . . .). Thank you for having my back, as always.

Last, but not least, thanks to my kittehs. Amenti Fang and Smudge—you’ve cuddled me when I needed cuddling, groomed me against my will, sat on my lap when I was trying to work, turned off my monitor when writing was frustrating
me, and thrown up hair balls on my favorite rug. I can only assume that all of this means that you love me. I love you, too, my fuzzy lil masters.

And finally, a word of wisdom to my Minion Horde: Family is a word not reserved for those you are blood related to, but for those who fill your heart with joy. Thank you for being a part of my family.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photo by Paul Brewer

ZAC BREWER
grew up on a diet of
The Twilight Zone
and books by Stephen King. He chased them down with every drop of horror he could find—in books, in movie theaters, and on television. The most delicious parts of his banquet, however, he found lurking in the shadowed corners of his dark imagination. When he’s not writing books, he’s skittering down your wall and lurking underneath your bed.

Zac doesn’t believe in happy endings . . . unless they involve blood. He lives in Missouri with his husband and two children. Visit Zac at
www.zacbrewer.com
.

Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at
hc.com
.

BOOKS BY ZAC BREWER

The Cemetery Boys

The Legacy of Tril: Soulbound

T
HE
C
HRONICLES OF
V
LADIMIR
T
OD

Eighth Grade Bites

Ninth Grade Slays

Tenth Grade Bleeds

Eleventh Grade Burns

Twelfth Grade Kills

T
HE
S
LAYER
C
HRONICLES

First Kill

Second Chance

Third Strike

The Ghost of Ben Hargrove

The Blood Between Us

CREDITS

Hand lettering by Jessie Sayward Bright

Cover design by Heather Daugherty

COPYRIGHT

HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.

THE BLOOD BETWEEN US.
Copyright © 2016 by Zac Brewer. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

www.epicreads.com

Library of Congress Control Number: 2015947484

ISBN 978-0-06-230791-0

EPub Edition © April 2016 ISBN 9780062307934

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