Solving the Vampire Murders

thirty-eight

A ghostly wind mussed Torren's hair and stung his cheeks.

"So that's what the High Seer and his daemon have come up with," Jay quipped. "You and your B-F-F are going to snoop around Medea's Sin like Shaggy and Scooby Doo?"

Torren sent a wary glance to Mazia.

"There is nothing wrong with trusting friends. If you had one, you would be knowing this."

Jay lifted a dramatic hand to his heart. "Ouch, Mazia. That hurts."

"Be silent. You are getting on my last nerves. Torren," Mazia said softly. Her honey brown eyes wide. "Don't resist the visions. Remember, you must want to try, da?"

Torren nodded. He tried to ignore Jay's condescending look and let his eyes close, reaching for the source of the cold wind. Letting his senses follow its southerly direction. The rustle of leaves and whistling wind gave way to a new sound—voices. They were buzzing in his ear, circling like an angry cloud of flies. Not Mazia or Jays, but unfamiliar ones.

Mazia set her hand on his shoulder. "Let your Seer's eye open."

Her touch and low, melodic voice helped focus Torren's mind, and the buzzing cloud of flies quieted. The ghostly wind didn't, however. If anything, it blew harder, frigid gusts that tugged on his shirt. A penetrating chill wrapped its arms around him, leaving his skin as slick as pond ice.

The double beat inside his chest thudded like a war drum. Banging out angry beats as the wind circled around him. Mazia's grip on his shoulder tightened, and he felt that same sense of surety rock through him. Over the wind and the pounding in his chest, Torren heard a whisper. A faint voice that tickled his ear and made the hair on his arms rise.

Mandy.

Only, something in the sound wasn't right. It was raspier, reminding Torren of the time in eleventh grade when they both caught mono. Curled up together in her twin-size bed, Mandy had turned to him, fever pinking her cheeks.

"Torren," she whispered. Dots of sweat shimmering on her forehead. "I feel like I'm going to die."

"You're not going to die," Torren said. His own voice raw. "I'll get you more Ibuprofen."

He had slipped out of the covers, chills shaking his shoulders when Mandy seized his hand. Her green eyes circled with puffy, dark circles. Blonde hair pulled into a messy bun. "No. Just stay."

Torren felt a smile tug on his dry lips before easing his way back into bed and wrapping her in his arms—drawing Mandy to his chest. She drifted into a fevered sleep soon after.

They would eventually get better, he knew that, but Torren couldn't let himself fall asleep. He wrapped his fingers around Mandy's wrist just to feel her steady pulse. Content knowing she was still breathing beside him.

"Torren," Mandy muttered in her sleep. Hand curling into his. "Help."

Help.

His body responded as if the word had taken root in his very bones. A wave of magical energy rolled through his joints.

Torren's eyes fluttered open. Mazia and Jay had their heads bent together--interest and concern lining the foreheads. Uncomfortable with their anticipation, Torren turned away and wandered down the shoreline, kicking sand and raking his freckly hands through his hair.

He didn't want to explain this vision to Mazia—or Jay for that matter. Didn't want to tell them how real it felt. The memory of Mandy in his arms was like a rusty steel bolt to the chest. She had been his to love for so long. His to care for. It didn't matter if his feelings were unrequited--he had made Mr. Laytham a promise to always take care of Mandy.