Wake

Chapter 16

Lucie

Caprice gave Vinny a ride back to his house in her car—which, alarmingly, was a night-black Camaro with red racer stripes. I'd been a little surprised, admittedly, as I hadn't thought the woman owned a car at all, but when she'd shut a still weeping Vinny in the front seat and asked me if I wanted to come along, I didn't turn her down.

I'd thought he would be happy to see me, even if I wasn't exactly there, or anywhere. I thought I would get a smile—the smile, that jovial show of teeth that, whatever the circumstance, always seemed to warm all the blood in my body. So when he'd collapsed, wailing as if he'd lost everything, I hadn't exactly known how to feel.

Vinny's choked sobs dissolved into silence, and then he sat there in the front seat, his head leaned against the window, a solemn frown at his lips. He wasn't talking, wasn't moving, no matter how many times Caprice tried to make conversation. So our trio sat in silence throughout the car ride, and there wasn't much improvement until Caprice parked her Camaro in the Hornes' driveway.

She drew the keys from the ignition, shot me a glance as if to say You handle this, then got out of the car and slammed the door shut behind her. Beyond the car, I could see nothing but shadow.

The car's overhead light was on; I slid to the middle of the backseat, thumping the car console with my fingers. "You're being really quiet. Are you okay?"

I knew it was dumb question as soon as it left my mouth, but when Vinny finally lifted his eyes to mine, they held no scorn. There was simply a silent mourning, a wish to the stars to go back in time, to fix it all. It tore at me, a little more than I was ready for. "This isn't how it's supposed to be," he said, his voice scraped hollow. "This isn't how any of it is supposed to be."

I thumped the car console again. The light above our heads flickered and went out, and we were in the dark again, Vinny's eyes made inky and distant. "I don't understand," I confessed. "I thought you missed me. I thought you would be happy to see me—"

"No," he groaned. "Not like this. Doesn't this mean—that you're dead? If I can't touch you, then..."

I scoffed, inching my fingers forward, hesitating, moving them again. I placed a hand over Vinny's; I didn't feel anything beneath my palm, but I was touching him, my fingers clearly in his. "I can touch you," I said. "You just don't feel it. That's different from ghosts."

Vinny's head was ducked, his platinum hair like spun starlight falling over his temples. He hid his face from me, but I could see a bit of his round eyes, the tracks of his tears left on his face. "Yeah," he agreed, "your hand's not slipping through."

"Exactly."

He lifted his eyes to mine, slowly, as if it hurt him. "Then what...are you?"

"I don't know, but I guess you could say I'm just severed from my body at the moment," I theorized. I remembered being there, trapped within my own deteriorating body, the horrible dreams that blurred into reality. I shuddered at the thought of it. "I was comatose, you know, but I was in stable condition. Then I must have slipped further away, because suddenly I couldn't even breathe for myself. That's when I woke up, and I was staring at my own body. That's what I was trying to tell you earlier. I'm not exactly here, but I'm not exactly dead."

Vinny exhaled, startled. "Then how long have you been like this?" He drew his hand away sharply, a flush filling his cheeks.

"A few days, though it's taken me a while to work up a presence," I replied, sitting back in my seat and folding my legs. "So, yeah, I heard you and Cian this morning. I was in the room."

Vinny sank down in his seat like a turtle into its shell. "Jesus."

"You're not alone, you know," I assured him. "It's why I came to you. Because you'll always have me."

My gaze lingered on him; he shut his eyes, placing a hand over his chest, as if to make sure he still had a heartbeat. I hadn't realized it, but something about him seemed...different, his shoulders broader and his cheekbones sharper, his lips quicker to frown. An odd feeling pulsed within me. How much, really, had I missed?

There was a sudden glow outside the car window: gold, flickering. I saw a spiral of silver smoke, at about the same time the air began to stink of cigarettes. I rolled my eyes, wondering if Caprice had any healthy habits.

Vinny let out a laugh then, and I jumped. His eyes creased, he turned his back to the glove compartment, facing me. "I did miss you," he said. "I missed you like crazy. It's just that the timing couldn't have been more ironic."

I considered it: the smashed Escalade, Cian's disappearance. "I guess you're right."

"Oh God," sighed Vinny then. He kicked the door open slightly with his foot, letting in a rush of cool air that played with the strands of his fine hair. "What a mess we are. It's almost like we've come full circle. It all started with a car crash, a missing brother, and now—"

"This isn't how it ends," I cut him off. "I know it's not. Cian's always running off, but we always get him back."

Vinny's smile evaporated, as if carried away by the wind. He looked away. "I'm not sure Cian is even a thing anymore. For all I know, he's just a demon now. You didn't see it, Lucie—his eyes, how dark they were, how empty."

I harrumphed. "I don't care how strong the demon side of him is. Cian—our Cian—will fight back. All we need to do is aid him a bit. You got me?"

Vinny lifted his gaze. I had missed his eyes. Seeing them again was like seeing a sunrise after years of being locked in a cold, lightless cellar. With those gold-rimmed irises, Vinny could light fires, make the flowers bloom, melt sheets of ice over the coldest rivers. "Sure," he replied, the slightest of smiles at his mouth, "I got you. But to do that—"

"We have to catch him first," came Caprice's voice. Vinny let out a yelp as she appeared at the half-open car door, swinging it open and using it as a balance. As I'd thought, there was a lit cigarette perched between her fingers, glowing dimly in the

twilight. "It won't be easy, either. Demons are the most elusive creatures I've ever seen."

Vinny seemed anxious, twisting the hem of his sweater in his fists. I'd never actually seen Vinny in a sweater, but it made him seem more mature, more poised, as if the dense wool dulled his youth. "He's not...only a demon. He still has a human side."

Caprice glanced at him, then rolled his eyes. "For now," she said. "Soon he won't be human at all if we don't get a hold of him."

I shoved open the car door, stepping down to the driveway. Unlike ghosts, I couldn't walk through things, and actually had to use doors to get to places. It wasn't exactly fair; I wasn't a ghost, but I wasn't alive, either. I was still in the process of figuring out what exactly I could and couldn't do, but for now, I was a mere spinoff of a ghost—just about the equivalent of off-brand cereal. "Say we don't catch him. What'll he do, anyway? Go to hell?"

Caprice smirked. "I wish."

"Caprice!" snapped Vinny.

"Lazarus, I was joking! You take everything much too seriously," she said, waving him off. Vince still continued to glare at her. "He has an advantage over other demons: a human form. So, my guess is he'll just go around gathering energy, getting stronger and stronger until he becomes a major threat. And by threat, I mean to humanity."

"Gathering...energy?" Vinny asked warily. "How?"

"Not by legitimate means, obviously," Caprice answered with narrow eyes. "He's a demon, sweetheart. You know what they feed off of—death, terror, greed. That's why we have to catch him, before he makes a terrible mess of everything."

I leaned against the car's exterior, groaning. I finally made it out, finally escaped from my incapacitated form, only to find that the boy I'd been hurt saving had lost himself. There was a dull ache within me, one that refused to go away no matter how much I wished it would. "Where are we even supposed to start?" I asked, exasperated.

Caprice dropped her cigarette, smashing it underneath her heeled, thigh-high boots. "That's a good question."