Unchanged (13 page)

"Why aren't you at work?" I asked snottily, snatching up the box of crackers.

For the first time a crack appeared in my mom's cool demeanor. "We can have that discussion another time. Go to your room."

"Did you lose your
job
?" I was aghast. I really had thought she'd stayed at home because of her injury.

"I've been laid off," she admitted.

"When did this happen? Are we going to lose the house?" I pictured us living in cheap motels, carting around suitcases full of clothes and useless, sentimental knickknacks. We'd have no furniture of our own and no food except what we could buy out of vending machines. Our teeth would fall out from all the junk food because we wouldn't have dental insurance either.

My mother was annoyed again. "No, Lilly, the house is paid for. Your father at least made sure of that before he left. Now go to your room before I have to ask you one more time."

I threw the crackers down on the counter and did as she said, choosing not to press the issue any further for the time being. Truthfully I wasn't too upset about being sent to my room. If my mother's usual behavior was anything to go by, she'd either forget about having grounded me or decide to let me off the hook by dinnertime.

I took out the American mythology book from where I'd stuck it under my mattress. Opening it, I decided I liked how the content was structured. Information was laid out in convenient list form, with only a few short paragraphs here and there. Plus there were illustrations of various spirits, fierce, ugly things with big teeth and mask-like faces. They were basically human in appearance but they looked nothing like Ahaziel. I still felt this book could give me a clue about him, only I didn't quite know where to start.

Then it hit me. The forest. If he was in fact some kind of mythological creature, I felt strongly he would reside in the forest. The index wasn't as intimidating as the one in the past life book and I was able to find something interesting fairly quickly.

Bokwus
, the book said.
A forest spirit, wicked and mysterious. A wild man of the woods. One may catch a fleeting glimpse of his face in the leaves. Lures victims near rivers by placing tempting objects on the shore. Consumes the soul of drowned victims. Travelers who eat food he offers will become like him.

Was this Ahaziel?

Closing the book, I tucked it back beneath my mattress. Books weren't so bad, I decided. I probably wouldn't be spending money at a bookstore any time soon, but my reluctance to even open a book for some reason other than school had miraculously vanished. It turned out books were useful and sometimes even pretty. I certainly hadn't expected that.

My mom called us for dinner and I was silent throughout the meal, angry with her and trying to make sense of everything. After dinner she banished me back to my room in a much worse mood. I didn't have anywhere better to be, but that wasn't the point. I unproductively perused the mythology book a bit more and then passed some time reading magazines. I threw them at the wall when I was done. I tried sketching, but all I wanted to do was make angry scribbles.

Brandt crept into my room after a while. "We're going to the beach," he announced quietly.

"Who?"

"We are. You and me, plus Chris, Austin, and Joy. Who else?"

"I'm grounded, stupid," I mumbled.

"Come on, do you really think Mom is serious about that?"

"She sounded serious."

"Whatever. She's already in her room. You know she's not coming out again."

It was true my mom usually stayed in her room for the night once she'd gone in there. Plus whatever pain medication she was taking had probably made her drowsier than usual. Plus I was upset, whether at myself for getting crappy grades or at my mom for punishing me for it I wasn't sure, but upset nonetheless. Sneaking out while grounded was the perfect thing to help me fizzle through the anger.

"Fine," I said. "Let's go."

The Oldsmobile was a surprisingly quiet car and Brandt managed to back it out of the drive without my mom running out the front door screaming at us. He turned on the headlights after we'd hit the street and cranked up some music. I felt devious and daring. First I'd skipped school, now I was sneaking out of the house. What would I do next?

As Brandt parked by the beach, I could see the orange halos of two little campfires against the navy sky. Wind off the water brought a chill to the air and I was glad when Brandt handed me a blanket from the trunk. We walked down some sandy steps to the first of the campfires. Chris, Joy, and Austin sat on the sand around it. I couldn't help but think of Eve's picnic on the beach. She'd had her friends with her, Leah and Phillipa. There were undeniable similarities between those girls and Joy and Chris. Jocelyn was an obvious parallel to my own brother. Had they all lived past lives, too? Would they also come to remember them?

I sat down in the sand on the same side of the campfire as Austin but with a comfortable distance between us. The last time I'd seen him, he had kissed me and I'd run out of his house. Awkward. He kept sneaking glances at me but I pretended not to notice as I eyed the brilliant fire. I welcomed its heat on my face and hands in the cold night even as Eve's screams—my own screams—echoed in my head. Despite the manner of her death, however, I didn't fear the fire.

Leaning slightly back, I let the night air cool my face, not liking to think how red the fire's heat must have made my birthmark. Eve hadn't had a birthmark, I realized suddenly. It was my own scar to bear, a mark left by the fire to remind me of something I hadn't even known about until recently.

"Sorry about the other day," Austin said.

"It's okay," I said.
But don't let it happen again
, I added silently.

"I thought you liked me."

I hunched my shoulders, wrapping the blanket tightly around myself, and stared at the flames until I was blind to everything else. I didn't want to talk to Austin about this. Did he even care? Maybe he wasn't used to rejection.

"Lilly?"

Chris was trying to hand me the bottle everyone had been passing around. "No, thanks," I said, taking it and passing it along to Austin. I ate the roasted marshmallow she offered me, then stood. "I'm going down to the water. I'll be back in a minute."

"Be careful," Brandt said.

Still clutching the blanket around my shoulders like a cape, I walked past the second campfire and the small group huddled around it. The beach wasn't crowded at night except in the summertime and there was no one else lingering by the water.

I was careful to keep my feet from getting wet as I made my way to the jetty. The rocks that comprised it were nearly the same color as the water. Slippery, too. If I didn't pay careful attention I would plunge into the freezing dark. No one would ever know, not until my body washed ashore one or two or seven days later. Or never.

Facing the vast dark ocean, I wondered if it would be too ambitious for me to attempt to draw it, especially with my preferred medium of technical pens. Charcoal or pencil might have been better, but I didn't like those as much. Too smudgy. Or maybe I could take up painting and use oils. I'd need a big canvas, a huge one to demonstrate how tiny everything else on earth was, how tiny I was next to this giant hole in the earth filled with murderous water and alien creatures. The ocean seemed to wait for my decision as I stared at it, miniature whitecaps flicking the jetty like patient but eager fingers reaching for my ankles. I couldn't know what might have been watching me from below the surface. Watching, and waiting.

A surge of fear struck me, just like the night I'd stood at my dark living room window. I wasn't supposed to be there. I should never have left the campfire. I turned my back on the water, anxious to rejoin my friends, but then my foot was slipping, slipping off the rocks. The blanket drifted from my shoulders and my arms shot out like useless wings as I tried to maintain my balance. But I couldn't. The ocean had succeeded in capturing me.

The water was cold against my back, a hard slap that shocked me into reality. The surface yielded, opening up so I would sink beneath it. I couldn't remember how to move. The water dragged me into deep oblivion.

Then, suddenly, I realized I couldn't breathe and snapped into desperate motion. My legs pushed and pedaled, my hands clawing millions of little bubbles out of the water. I was determined to bring myself above the surface, but no matter how hard I tried it never felt as if I were getting closer to it. My lungs were burning, bursting. My mouth released a stream of bubbles. I was going to drown.

Death by fire, death by water. Which was worse?

I was about to find out.

Just as I started to black out, I felt a hand on the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. It pulled me, lifted me, and then my face broke out of the water. The night was starkly cold on my wet skin. My mouth opened, gasping in air. The hand dragged me to a solid surface and I felt the sand, moist and splatting beneath my palms. I rolled onto my back and opened my eyes, staring up at the dark-clouded sky as I continued to breathe, heavily at first and then gradually slower.

I am alive.

A face appeared above me. My rescuer.

Ahaziel.

I sat up and scrambled to my feet, backing away from him. Wet sand clung to my skin, hiding in the creases of my clothes.

"You were drowning," he said. He knelt on the sand, looking up at me.

"How did you know I would be here?"

"I followed you."

So simple and honest. I should have been outraged, probably. What reason did he have to watch me, to follow me through the night? Yet I couldn't feel upset because if he hadn't been there, I would surely have died. I started to cry, unable to help myself. I pushed my dripping hair, thick with salt, out of my face.

Ahaziel stood. He spoke gently after a moment of listening to my sobs. "Come with me."

I thought about the consequences of agreeing to do so. I didn't know him or anything about him. No one would be able to find me if anything happened to me, because Ahaziel was somehow a person who existed beside my world rather than in it. Not only that, this was the man who had murdered Esmond Havelock. Maybe he wanted to murder me, too.

But he had saved me.

And could I really be upset about Esmond Havelock's death? How could I hold that against him? How could I feel anger towards him for taking a man like Eve's stepfather out of the world? It had happened so long ago.

Strands of his shoulder-length black hair stuck wetly to his golden-brown skin. I studied the hollows of his long cheeks, the curves of bone and muscle in his face. His full mouth was tense and grim but his eyes were nearly hopeful. He waited. I felt myself weakening under his gaze. Something about it caused a little tenderness inside me.

"Where?" I asked.

Then I heard voices calling my name. Brandt and Austin, coming to look for me. Maybe they'd seen me fall. I waited for them, shivering, teeth chattering. Ahaziel's gaze never left mine and I found I couldn't feel self-conscious about my birthmark, or my wet hair, or the sandy clothes clinging to my goosebumped skin. His eyes saw me, all of me, and they didn't judge. I could have been dressed for a ball or dirty from a week without showering and his eyes would never change. They would always see the real me.

I felt my stomach drop. How could I not find myself drawn to someone who was willing to take me along with all my flaws?

"Lilly, are you all right?" Brandt jogged up next to me, his hands on my shoulders. "God, you're freezing."

"I went for a swim," I said. Brandt didn't laugh.

"Who are
you
?" Austin demanded.

Ahaziel didn't answer. I watched as he backed away, his gaze never leaving me, until he disappeared into shadows down the beach. I lowered my eyes, which felt confusingly hot.

I hadn't wanted him to go.

"Who was that?" Brandt asked as we started back for the campfire.

"Just someone I know."

"You
know
him? Since when? I don't recognize him."

"He doesn't look familiar?"

"No."

I was disappointed. Maybe a small part of me had wanted Brandt to remember things from a past life too so I would have someone to share my experiences with. Someone who'd believe me and discuss things with me and not look at me like I belonged in a mental institution. As it was now, Brandt would probably get angry and demand I stop acting weird. Chris would fret. Talking my past life over with Joy or Austin was pretty much out of the question.

"What a freak," Austin muttered.

For a second I thought he was talking about me, then I realized he meant Ahaziel. But it didn't matter. The effect was the same.

I warmed myself by the campfire, still shivering like crazy, as the others continued laughing and joking and accidentally dropping their gooey marshmallows in the sand like nothing had happened. My eyes lifted from the fire, focusing beyond it, and I thought I could see a dark figure drifting there, indistinct, menacing, watching me. When I blinked the figure was gone, and maybe I'd imagined it, but nevertheless I kept bugging Brandt until he gave in and agreed to take me home. "What's with
her
?" I heard Joy ask as we walked back to the car. Her comment wasn't worth acknowledging, not with everything else I had on my mind.