Wake

Chapter 25

Vinny

"Hell no," Lucie said. "Hell no."

My eyes were on Eden, fixed there. There was no way. Lucie had told me she'd died, that she'd seen it. Shaking, I blurted, "But you're—Eden, you're dead. Lucie, isn't she dead?"

"Yes!"

I sputtered. "Then how—"

"Imagine my surprise when you reappeared, then," Eden said to me. She wasn't bitter, merely factual, almost toneless. "I don't have long here. I'm just here for a little while. So can I talk to you, please?"

I stared at her until I couldn't anymore. She stood there before the door to my father's office—which no one had touched since he'd left—with her arms at her sides, dark eyes fixed on the ground, her hair done up to match the elegant red cocktail dress she wore. I wasn't sure what to feel—relief? Terror? I looked at her and I saw all the days of my life, my normal life, yet I looked at her and I saw all the pain she'd caused me.

Nura piped up, "Something's off. A soul shouldn't be able to cross back over once it's gone, not without a body. That must mean—"

"The balance," Eden grumbled, like it was a word she'd heard too much. Lucie's eyes went a little round, and so did mine. That little girl in Chinatown had said the same thing, had pointed at me like I was a criminal and said, The balance. It is all wrong. "It's not right. So, like I said, I don't have long before I'm tugged over again. Vinny, if I could please—"

"Why?" I snapped. "Why do you think anything you're going to say is going to fix...I don't know, anything?"

Eden gnawed at her lip. "God, you have every right to hate me, but please give me a chance. It's important."

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting out a sigh. I wanted to speak with her, but I didn't. I hated her, but I didn't. I'd never felt so clueless.

Lucie was at my shoulder. "You don't have to," she said. "You really don't."

My eyes opened, and I inhaled. Everyone's eyes were on me: Eden's and Nura's, Lucie's, even Caprice's, who was still slumping drunkenly against the far wall. I made a mental note to hide all of Mom's champagne from her.

I told Lucie, "I need to."

I expected a flash of triumph to cross Eden's face, but her steady, solemn frown remained. I hesitated, but walked over to Dad's office, pulling it open. Eden whisked inside, bringing with her a rush of cold that chilled me well below the surface of my skin. I saw Lucie's skeptical gaze before I shut the door after us, and turned away.

Eden stood by the desk, looking uncomfortable, out of place. I shivered, both because her presence made the air freezing, and because it was strange to be here, in a place that was so intrinsically my father's. Cian and I used to play on the oriental rug upon which the mahogany desk sat, building block towers while Dad filed paperwork. Sometimes Cian would teach me to read with some of the business and medical books that filled the tall bookshelves. I never understood any of it, and I don't really think Cian did either, but just the minimal grasp for knowledge was enough.

I'd always thought my dad was the coolest person ever, sitting behind his big desk and drinking mug after mug of coffee, creating and selling medicines that would help people worldwide.

That was before I'd known that he was a liar, a trickster. That was before I'd known that he hadn't ever really cared.

Heaving a long breath, I hoisted myself up on the desk, leaving my legs dangling over its edge. Eden watched me warily, and I wondered if she could see it on my face, how torn I was, just how lost.