here.”
“That’s the right attitude, Jane.”
My day lasted forever since I had to stay late to help get the
Birch Grove
Weekly
done. Night had almost fallen when I finally left Flounder. I walked
slowly to my cottage and wished I could slow down everything – including the
initiation that would bind me to Lucky forever.
And that meant that I’d never get away from Jacob Monroe.
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A ladder was leaning against the railing by my front door. I lugged the
ladder inside, banging the door and furniture as I maneuvered it to the bathroom.
The plaster wreath was still sitting on the sink counter.
I needed to screw it back up so that no one would see what I’d been doing.
Then I could change out of my uniform and crawl in bed.
I set the ladder up and placed the plaster piece, screws and screwdriver on
the shelf meant to hold paint trays. My ankle hurt as I climbed up. I was higher
now that I had been on the chair. On impulse, I reached into the opening of the
ceiling and felt around.
My hand hit something solid and rectangular. I grabbed it and pulled it to
the opening. It was a homemade jewelry box. I placed the box on the ladder’s
shelf and hobbled awkwardly down.
When I was sitting at my desk, I turned on a lamp to see the box better.
Glue-on rhinestones formed the letters BB.
I lifted the lid and saw a thick stack of cash, mostly in twenties and tens,
bound by a rubber band. Beside the money was a black velvet box that held a
gold and garnet Companion ring.
There were photos of Lucky and programs from student plays, a dried
corsage, movie ticket stubs, wristbands from parties, and notes from friends.
A red matchbox held three wooden matches and a tiny plastic envelope of
weed. A lock of golden hair was tied with a red satin ribbon. At the bottom of
the box was a passport. I opened it and saw a photo of a smiling girl. She was
ordinary looking, like me. The pages were empty of any travel stamps.
None of the items mattered as much as the money. No one who’d grown up
poor would ever leave so much cash behind.
Which meant that Jack had been right: something terrible had happened to
BB.
But what could I do? There was one person who knew about the Family
and had always been helpful and understanding. I thought I could trust him to
help now.
I left my cottage with the jewelry box under my arm. The wind gusted,
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making the birch branches swish and sway, whispering in the night. Their black
and white bark made them look as if they were dressed for a formal party.
I picked up a sturdy birch branch from the path and used it as a cane as I
returned to B-Gro. The lights in the third-floor chem lab glowed in the darkness.
I went around to the only unlocked entrance, a side door by a stairwell.
Climbing the dimly lit stairs took ages, because I had to constantly lean against
the wall and rest.
Before I reached the third floor, I realized that adults would see BB’s weed
and assume that she was another druggie foster kid who ran away. I put the
matchbox in my blazer pocket as I limped to the chem lab.
The door was ajar and I saw Mr. Mason setting up an experiment on the
table by the elements chart. The dark windows reflected the lab.
“Mr. Mason?”
He was startled, and then he smiled. “Hello, Jane. You always come out of
nowhere. What are you doing here so late?”
“May I talk to you?”
“Of course. Come and give your leg a rest,” he said and moved a chair by
his desk for me. After I sat, he sat, too. “What’s up?”
“You knew BB, Breneeta Brown, right?”
“Yes, she was in my homeroom last year, when I had sophomores.”
“Everyone said she left the school to live with an uncle, but I don’t believe
that.”
“Really?”
“I found an interview she gave for a story that was supposed to run in the
Weekly
. She didn’t have any living relatives, and I found this hidden the cottage.”
I handed the jewelry box to him.
He looked at the initials on the box and then lifted the lid. He took out the
money, passport, and lock of golden hair.
“Where was it?”
“Behind the light fixture in the ceiling. BB would have needed her passport
if she was going to Europe, but the money’s even more important. A foster would
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never leave that money, no matter what.”
Mr. Mason lifted the ring from the velvet box and held it up, so that the
stones glittered under his desk light. “You’re right. How could someone with
nothing reject an opportunity for an education, financial security, a family?
Claire, my wife, couldn’t.” He looked from the ring to my face.
“We all want families, Mr. Mason.”
The kindness in his face vanished and his voice became harsh. “The
vampires prey on girls with nothing, not even beauty, girls without options, like
my wife. But Claire was beautiful to me.”
I didn’t understand his strange expression. “Everyone tells me that they
loved her. What can we do to help BB?”
“We can help her by helping other girls.” He opened a desk drawer and
took out something metal and shiny and kept it hidden in his left hand.
Then he pulled out a hunting knife with a wide, gleaming blade and pointed
it at me. I went motionless, terrified that a sudden movement would make him
react.
He said, “I thought BB would be the last Companion, the end of vampire’s
exploitation of vulnerable girls. After all, even the local police couldn’t ignore a
murdered student. You girls have suffered so much in your short lives so I made
sure she didn’t feel any pain.”
He spoke with the assurance of the self-righteous. “Someone took her body
before the police could find her,” he said. “Tobias probably discovered her on
one of his midnight rambles. I’ll have better results this time.”
“What are you doing, Mr. Mason?” I kept my voice calm, hoping to keep
him calm, but I had an awful, sick feeling.
“I’m saving you,” Mr. Mason said. “I tried, I tried so very hard to save
Claire from them, but she wouldn’t listen to reason.”
I kept my eyes on him, while trying to think of how I could get away.
“Your wife committed suicide.”
“Only after miscarrying Tobias’s child. She never wanted
my
babies, but
she kept trying to have
his
, hoping he’d leave Hyacinth for her.” Mr. Mason’s
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
eyes became glassy and his face flushed. “They’ve told you about that problem,
haven’t they? Just in case you have any romantic dreams of marrying Lucien
Monroe.”
“I’m sorry about your wife, sir.” I couldn’t reach the door faster than him
and I tried to think of another way to escape. “It must have broken your heart.”
“I loved Claire so much that I put up with sharing her, even though she
hated when I touched her. That’s what love is --sacrifice. I thought I could
prove my love, but she was obsessed with Tobias.”
Wake Not the Dead
, I thought.
He tapped the hunting knife on his desk, and the clinking sent a chill down
my spine.
“Mr. Mason, I’m sure there’s another way to stop them. You’re an
analytical man. We’ll go to the police.”
“The police will pay more attention if I’ve got a body and witnesses, Jane,”
he said. “I was going to wait until after your initiation, and then you came to me.
We’re going down to the auditorium for our own bloodletting ceremony. When
the students arrive for tomorrow’s assembly, they’ll find you there, slaughtered by
bloodthirsty vampires.”
He opened his left hand and showed me jagged metal fangs. “I had to
special order these. I’m only using them to prove to everyone that these vampires
are monsters.” He put the fangs in his pocket. “Stand up, Jane.”
I stood, gripping the birch branch for support and to keep from shaking. If I
screamed, he might decide to kill me quickly.
Mr. Mason kept his eyes on me as he opened a desk drawer and took out a
folded white cloth. “This was Claire’s initiation robe. I took up the hem for you.
Put it on.”
I leaned the branch against my leg and put the garment over my head. The
scarlet-trimmed, ivory silk billowed down over my school uniform.
Then he tossed BB’s ring to me. “Put that, too,” he said. “It’s a pity, Jane,
because you really are an exemplary student and you’ve done it all on your own.
I wish I could use one of these spoiled bitch students, like Mary Violet with her
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stupid purple assignments.”
I slid the too-large band on my finger while keeping watch of Mr. Mason.
“I can gather evidence for you.”
“That won’t work, Jane, because you’re already under their spell. The spell
of money and security, of being close to Lucian Monroe.”
“I think for myself, Mr. Mason.”
“You have to trust me on this, Jane.” He reached into the desk again and
took out a small brown bottle and a handkerchief and put it in his pocket. “Once
we get to the auditorium, I’ll give you diethyl ether and you’ll enjoy a pleasant
drowsiness and then it will all be over. You won’t feel any pain or loneliness ever
again. You’ll have the kind of peace that Claire and BB finally have. Shall we?”
he said, as if he was asking me to dance and not to my death.
I began hobbling to the door, leaning on the branch as if I was weaker.
When I reached the door, I took hold of the branch with both hands and swung it
back with all my might.
Mr. Mason cried out at the blow, and the knife clattered away on the
linoleum floor. Then he grabbed the branch back and jerked it out of my hands.
Before I could get out of the door, he caught hold of the robe and yanked it,
throwing me backward to the floor. He slammed the door shut.
I screamed, “No!” and scrambled under a lab table trying to reach the other
end of the room.
“Jane, be reasonable. You have nothing to live for anyway.” Mr. Mason
shoved chairs out of the way as he came toward me. I stood up and looked
around for anything to protect me. The jar labeled
Potassium
was on a far shelf.
“Fire!” I screamed, because at City Central no one answered cries for help,
but they did respond to fires. “Fire!”
I grabbed a rack of test tubes and flung it at the window. Mr. Mason turned
to see the glass shattering, and I turned on a Bunsen burner. The gas hissed out.
Mr. Mason didn’t notice what I’d done. “No one can hear you.” He circled
around as he tried to back me into the corner of the room.
I stepped to one side and pushed over the cloth chart of elements. It fell on
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
top of the open Bunsen burner. “Let me go, Mr. Mason. I’ll leave Birch Grove
and never say a word.”
I snuck my arm into the wide sleeve of the robe and felt for the box of
matches in my pocket.
“They’d only replace you with another sad orphan. Girls like you can
always be replaced.”
“Claire wasn’t replaceable.” I shifted away from the Bunsen burner. “I’m
not replaceable.
I’d spent my life avoiding predators, and I anticipated his lunge. As he
stumbled into a chair, I slashed a match against the box and threw it toward the
cloth covering the Bunsen burner. The match lay there burning for a split second
and then the ancient cloth began to burn.
Mr. Mason grabbed the edge of the cloth and yelled, “Stupid girl!” He
pulled it away from the Bunsen burner and dropped it on the floor. While he tried
to stomp out the flames, I grabbed bottles of chemicals and threw them at him and
at the fire.
Mr. Mason rushed me and knocked me down. My head banged so hard
against the leg of a table that tears instantly came to my eyes. My teacher stood
over me as he took out the brown bottle of ether and opened it. He poured ether
on the handkerchief and leaned toward me.
I kicked his shins and the ether joined the other chemicals that had spilled
on his clothes.
“Goddamn you!”
I slithered away on the smooth linoleum and stood up. On the shelf above
me, a silvery hunk of potassium with its red oxidized edge rested safely in a jar of
mineral oil. On the table someone had left a beaker of water.
The ether evaporating on his clothes made Mr. Mason move slowly. Fear
made me swift. I grabbed the jar with potassium and threw it so that it smashed
close to the smoldering banner. Then I threw the beaker of water and prayed that
it would hit its mark.
As the water splashed down, the reactive metal combusted in a brilliant
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The Shadow Girl of Birch Grove – Marta Acosta
burst of violet flames.
Fire flicked out to Mr. Mason and his clothes, soaked in chemicals, caught
fire. He shrieked and fell down, trying to roll and suffocate the fire. Then
everything that was flammable ignited and everything that was combustible