A Want So Wicked (A Need So Beautiful #2)(49)
Author: Suzanne Young

* * *

I’m in the middle of Main Street. Santo’s is to my right as a tumbleweed rushes past, bouncing out of my line of vision. My hair blows in the wind, and when I hear his voice, I look up to see Abe dressed in black—his hair slick—standing in front of me.

“I guess it didn’t work, huh?” he asks.

“What didn’t work?” I ask, taking a step back from him. I used to be grateful to see Abe, but his perfection frightens me now. Especially since I know what he is.

“Killing your boyfriend,” he says. “He must be pretty good on that Harley.”

“You caused his accident? Why?”

He scoffs. “Isn’t it obvious? I called dibs.”

I move farther back, the cement ice-cold under my bare feet. “You can’t claim me.”

“See”—he puts his hands casually in his pockets—“that’s where you’re wrong, querida. You’re mine. Just because he’s a Seer doesn’t mean he can have you. You’re not his Forgotten.”

I’m dreaming, I know I am. “I thought we were friends, Abe.”

His eyes soften. “Elise,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m in love with you. I want us to be together—for all time. You’re mine,” he pleads.

“I’m not.”

The temperature around us is quickly dropping, goose bumps rising on my skin. Abe’s expression hardens, as if my refusal has snapped him back into his twisted reality. “Come here,” he says, spreading his arms wide.

“Stay away from me,” I shout, continuing to back up.

He laughs. “No.”

“Please,” I say, but my voice cracks. Abe reads the fear there, and for a second, he almost looks sorry. He stops in front of me, his dark eyes searching mine as he reaches to run the backs of his fingers over my jaw.

“If you don’t give in,” he murmurs softly, watching the trail of his fingers, “it’ll get so much worse.” He meets my eyes. “I’ll kill them all.”

The fear surrounding me is thick, suffocating. Abe slips his arm around my waist to pull me against him. “No more crying,” he whispers in my ear. “I’ll take care of you. And I’m sorry that I have to kill your boyfriend. But he’ll never go away otherwise.”

“Just leave him alone,” I say.

He pulls back to look me over. “No.”

“That’ll do.” A sharp voice cuts through the air. Suddenly the wind stops dead and Abe stands motionless, frozen in time. I break free of him, but when I spin around, a scream catches in my throat. Onika stands behind us, her blond hair cascading over her black jacket, her smile cracking the skin around her mouth—skin that’s gray and dead.

“I’ve looked everywhere for you,” she says, walking slowly toward me. “Or rather, I guess you were looking for me. Very rude to invade someone’s dreams, darling.”

“I have to stop you,” I say, surprised by my own bravery when I’m so terrified. She laughs.

“I believe we’ve had this conversation before. And like I told you then, you’re not nearly strong enough. Nothing is.”

Her flesh begins to wither, curling up and flaking off her face. But under my skin, I feel heat, growing and pulsating. For the first time in a while, I feel powerful.

“We’ll see,” I say, and force myself awake.

I wake with a start, my room pitch-black around me. I hear murmurs from another room, the voice hushed. Haunting. Fear streaks through me as I slowly rise. I think that my sister has finally come home. And I don’t know what to expect.

I ease open my bedroom door and peer out, the hallway too dim to see very far. A sliver of light escapes from Lucy’s room, the moon shining in her window. I was right. She must have just gotten home.

My entire body shakes as I move toward her room. When I’m just outside her door, I pause.

“Come in, Elise,” Lucy calls as if she knew I was standing there. I swallow hard and step inside the doorway.

“Why are you creeping around?” she asks from her bed. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Lucy is lying under the covers, her pale skin reflecting the moonlight. She’s my sister, but . . . different.

“Sorry,” I say, trying to sound normal. I’m suddenly very afraid of her. “I thought you might need help sneaking in.”

She tilts her head, studying me. Lucy climbs out of bed, walking slowly in my direction.

“Oh, I don’t need that kind of help anymore.” She smiles. “Plus I’m turning over a new leaf,” she says. “I think Dad will be pleased.” I tense at the mention of our father.

I don’t respond at first, but when my sister pauses in front of me, I’m overwhelmed with grief. “I love you, Lucy,” I say softly, meeting her eyes, which are now a darker shade of blue. Her mouth twitches before she reaches out to hug me suddenly. I sag against her, but then I feel it—a slow, aching coldness. A shadow over my heart. I pull back.

“I think I’m going to take a shower,” I say. “I feel gross after working today.”

“You went to work?” she asks, her eyes narrowing slightly. Oh no. Does she know I’m lying?

I nod weakly, backing away. Lucy watches me, leaning her hip against the doorframe as she taps her finger on her bottom lip, as if thinking. I hurry down the hall, shutting the bathroom door tightly behind me.

Inside the locked bathroom, I’m not sure what to do. How to talk to her when she’s like this. When she’s so cold. Abe seems reasonable most of the time. But Lucy reminds me of Onika, and the idea is unimaginable.

I rest my hands on either side of the sink as I stare into the mirror. I take in my dark hair, my blue eyes. I think about the Needs I’ve had, about the things I’ve seen. I think about losing Harlin yet again. I can see now that there wasn’t much he could have done for Lucy. The Forgotten have an impossible choice. Even Marceline couldn’t save Abe.

Marceline told me to look inside my memories for a way to stop Onika. I found Monroe, but maybe there’s more. Maybe I need to remember who I was. Filled with terror, I stare at my reflection, willing it to change. I stare at the image until my vision begins to blur, my fingers tingle. The reflection falls away and I see blond hair, a light dusting of freckles. I see . . . me.

I see Charlotte.

Shocked, I step back, nearly falling into the bathtub. I steady myself against the tile wall with my hand, my heart pounding in my chest. The mirror regains its focus—but it doesn’t erase the knowledge flowing in—the unstoppable force growing inside me.