Eat Your Heart Out (Descendants) (9 page)

Kendra knelt in front of the creature. “Poor thing must have gotten freaked by something.”

“I’m having a hard time feeling sorry for it,” Rachel said through a pinched nose.

Kendra threw Rachel a look then gently—almost tenderly—picked the unconscious
globster off the sand. “I’ll swim it back to the deep where it can’t get to any humans,” she said.

“And the merman?” Bruno said. His voice was clipped and bordering on dangerous.

Far away, a crack of lightning splintered across the silence.

That was all the answer they needed. Still gagging and with a five-fingered bruise blooming along Rachel’s ribs, the group limped back to the boat. Away from the shore, Kendra jumped overboard with the
globster still in her arms and a promise to let them know as soon as she returned.

* * *

Rachel still felt slimy and smelled like a sewer. It wasn’t a pleasant state. The first fat drops of rain hit their shoulders as they pulled into the driveway an hour later.

Rachel hitched the bag with the weapons and destroyed box higher onto her shoulder and trudged inside. She collapsed onto a chair, her arms and legs sticky with saltwater and grime, and pulled out the box. It’d been the first
clue to her real identity last year, a box full of unknown herbs that her mom had explained were used to repel and protect against demons. And now it was a mess. It pulled at something in her, like it was maybe a metaphor for her life. She huffed an exhausted laugh. At this moment, Rachel didn’t really want to think too hard about it. The herbs and potions within were scattered and combined—all ruined—and the wood splintered, cleaving the Chasseur name and crest in two. Rachel gingerly lifted the lid and frowned.

There was something sticking out from the lid.
An edge of something that looked like paper. She wiggled her fingers back and forth in the split in the lid and tugged out a folded piece of paper. The paper was thick under her fingertips and rough, like it was handmade. It was also covered in tiny, cramped writing that she didn’t recognize. Or partially didn’t recognize. There was something in the shapes of the letters that tickled at her brain, but she couldn’t place it. Whatever it was, it wasn’t English. But it wasn’t quite French, either.

Accents marked the letters, and whole combinations of them didn’t look like any script she recognized. As and
Es jammed together in single letters, and letters curved and flourished in places that seemed odd. Rachel cocked her head, stared at the words. And then she recognized the writing. It was the same that covered every inch of the urn. And it looked like a recipe. Or a spell.

Rachel lurched to her feet, the bag dropping to the floor with a clatter of weapons. “Bruno!” She barged through the living room to the den where Bruno and Sid had set up camp. “Bruno!”

Bruno looked up and yanked his shirt over his head to cover his brawny torso, scrawled with heavy scarring. She thrust the paper into his hands and watched the man’s eyes fly over it. He grabbed the urn from a side table and held the two up together.

“The same?” Bruno’s eyes narrowed and his head cocked to one side.

“Exactly the same, I think,” Rachel answered.

Sid strode closer and leaned over the paper. He traced a finger over a word on the paper then over its match on the urn, his jaw working back and forth in thought. Then he looked up into Rachel’s eyes. He was close enough that she could smell the salt water on him. She didn’t want to think what he could smell on her. His gray eyes sparked and he licked his lips. “I have an idea.”

Sid’s idea was this: Go to Professor Rathbone. As much as Rachel protested, she had to admit it was probably a good idea. She didn’t know anyone else who knew as much about early Gallic languages as the professor, and she’d rather take the urn and note to someone she respected than trust an unknown. Sid wanted to leave that very night.
That
Rachel thought was not as good of an idea, but she understood the urgency. Despite how much she wanted to crawl into bed and try to sleep, her nerves jangled with anticipation, tensing for the coming storm. She felt it prickling against her skin and zigzagging through her limbs. Deep inside the inescapable feeling commanded:
Hurry. Hurry. Hurry.

Rachel showered and threw some clothes in a backpack for their impromptu road trip, but she still felt squirmy in her clean clothes, like the
globster had possibly gotten some of its slime under her skin. Rachel stretched her arms above her head, but they wriggled back down to scratch at her ribs where the creature had squeezed her in its death grip. Her skin was tender under her fingertips.

“Ready?” Sid leaned against her doorway, a worn duffle hanging from his hand. He didn’t walk any farther into the room.

“Can you give me half an hour?”

Sid raised one eyebrow in answer, but then creased his forehead into a frown. “Yeah, of course,” he finally said. “Anything you need me for?”

Rachel pressed her lips together and shook her head. What she needed was a moment alone—without storms or earthquakes or creatures attacking her. She slipped past Sid and out the back door and padded across the evening-cooled grass on bare feet. Kendra had always given her a hard time for the state of her feet—hillbilly feet, Kendra called them. Naked toenails, soles that could handle gravel roads. But the whisper of grass between her toes made the demon sitting on her chest relax, made her release a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. When had everything gotten so complicated?

Twilight was falling fast, the sky overhead streaked orange and pink. But Rachel didn’t need much light to see where she was going. She ducked between two magnolia trees at the back corner of the yard and her feet found a worn dirt trail. The earth was cool and sandy and clung to the bottoms of her feet as she walked. On her left, a high wooden fence protected one of the giant coastal estates perched near the dunes, and on her other side a trimmed hedgerow hid another. The narrow alley between the estates was quiet and still, just what Rachel wanted.

The path grew sandier, dark earth giving way to the encroaching dunes. And then the sound of the surf hit her. It was music and comfort, the sounds of a childhood she couldn’t recapture even barefoot on this well-worn path. Rachel tamped down a surge of sadness at that thought, pushed it back out into the sea of her thoughts. No one could recapture childhood, not just a girl who’d discovered her secret identity.

Rachel’s feet slipped and slid through the sand, but soon she’d crested the first dune. The water was brilliant, stretched out in three directions in a watercolor of sunset
golds and twilight blues. Rachel pulled in a deep, salt-tinged breath and closed her eyes. This was what she needed, just a moment of rest.

She scrambled down the first dune and used her legs’ momentum to carry her up the second. The tough grasses rasped on the breeze and added a low, whistling note to the chorus of the ocean. Rachel walked until the beach grew solid under her feet and water lapped around her ankles. Rising above the horizon, a hint of a nearly full moon started its ascent. Rachel closed her eyes and simply breathed.

The sea was soft, gentle, but then it was slimy. Rachel popped her eyes open and jumped back with a yelp. She shoved her hand against her mouth to stop anything else coming out.

The
globster was at her feet. Its slimy body was still, like a jellyfish washed ashore. But the green heart sac at its core was ripped away, clawed away. Rachel crouched on the balls of her feet and—grinding her teeth together to gather her courage—reached out and touched the creature. It was dead, its body hardened into something cold and waxy.

She backed up a step. Then another. Her heels hit soft sand, and she stumbled. The
globster had just been alive a few hours ago. It’d been stunned, yes, but definitely alive when Kendra had jumped into the water to lead it back out to sea. And now it was dead, with whatever functioned as its life force ripped out.

Rachel turned and ran, her throat closing around a scream that wanted to tear out of her.

Abbadon
.

CHAPTER 11

The world had gone blurry, the ground unsteady. Rachel lurched across her backyard and shoved through the back door. Her mom looked up as she stumbled into the kitchen, worry etched across her face.

“Where’s Sid?” She needed to talk to him, say out loud the horrible thing she was thinking. She wanted someone to tell her she was wrong.

“He and Bruno ran into town for some food before you two take off.” Daphne pulled her hands from soapy dishwater and shook them off. “But Kendra’s here. She’s in your room.”

Kendra. The name slid into her stomach on a drop of acid. Rachel swallowed hard and pushed her palms against her stomach. They’d talk. Kendra would reassure Rachel everything was fine. Rachel smoothed her hands down her tank top, blew out a breath through pursed lips. Everything would be just fine.

The lights were off in Rachel’s room, just the silvery glow of the rising moon showing Kendra’s profile. The moon was nearly full and promised to be bright.
If the storms ravaging the Georgia coast could stay away for a single night. Rachel flipped on the light. Her fingers shook against the plate, and the light flickered under her uncertainty. What she was thinking … it seemed impossible. No, it
was
impossible. This was Kendra, after all. The girl who’d made them pinkie swear in third grade they’d always be friends and made Rachel a duct tape prom dress.

Kendra ran one graceful hand along the spines of books atop Rachel’s shelf. She turned to Rachel with an easy smile, but the overhead light smeared dark shadows under her eyes.

“So you got that globster back out to open ocean okay?”

Kendra backed up until her butt hit the edge of Rachel’s dresser and leaned against it. She folded her arms, one finger tapping against her forearm. “Yeah, it went perfectly.”

Rachel gave her a wide berth, emotions warring inside of her—every instinct was on edge, but her mind wouldn’t accept that. “You saw it alive?”

Kendra frowned and licked her lips. “Obviously.” She sucked in a breath, examined her fingernails. “Your mom said you and Sid are heading over to Saint Etienne. Are you finally going to tell Sid you want to see him naked or what?”

“Excuse me?” The words stuck in her throat, and Rachel coughed on them.

Kendra laughed. “Come on,
Rach. We’ve been best friends for, like, a thousand years. It’s so
painfully
obvious what you think about him.” She cocked her head and laughed again. It wasn’t a nice sound. “I mean, you’re not really his type, but
something
has to happen. Get rejected. Move on. You know.”

“That was really mean, Kendra.” Rachel whispered. Her voice quivered, and she hated herself for it. She set her jaw and looked back up at the girl. Kendra watched her closely, head cocked to one side. She pushed away from the dresser and stepped closer. Rachel took a step back, and the backs of her thighs hit her bed. “Seriously, Kendra. I need to talk to you about that
globster. I don’t … I need to believe you, but its heart was torn out just like all the others.” She dragged in a shuddering breath. “Abbadon could have been watching us out there.”

But as she said it, the fine hairs on her arms arched up and stood on end.
Eyes on her, boring into her back, staring at her from all sides. It sent shivers skittering down her arms.

Kendra took another step closer. “Maybe
Abbadon is watching us right now.” The girl’s voice held laughter and something else, something cold and cruel. “The beast is a greater evil. It could be anywhere.”

Rachel blinked.
Greater evil
. That’s exactly what Willem had called Abbadon when he’d been possessed. Her world collapsed. The way Kendra had fought those marsh lights, the way the globster had squealed in fright as Kendra got close …

Beyond her bedroom door, dishes and glasses clinked in the sink as Daphne washed up. Outside, she could just hear an engine revving. But all that was beyond her door, beyond help. Rachel inched her hand across her quilt to where she hid a dagger under her pillow.

Metal glinted in the lamplight, and Rachel flicked her eyes to Kendra. “Looking for this?” The girl held the blade up, ran one finger down the edge until a drop of blood beaded on the pad of her index finger and dripped into her palm. “You are so
very
predictable.”

Rachel lunged, but Kendra spun away. She was a blur of movement, fast and sure on her feet. Rachel sprinted for the hallway, screaming for her mom to run, but Kendra whipped her head toward the door and slammed it shut with just a look.

“Power of witches,” the girl sang out. “But not my only party trick.” Kendra’s lips parted and her jaw stretched, groaning and snapping. Her mouth morphed into a grotesque snout, fangs lining her gums. She cackled a laugh, and shook her head, sending her features back to their rightful place. “Want to see what else I can do?”

The door rattled behind Kendra, the knob twisting and turning. Daphne shouted for Rachel and Kendra, fear making her voice shrill. Kendra rolled her eyes and gave a lazy flick of her wrist. There was a strangled cry, then a thump.

“You seriously need to cut those apron strings, my dear.”

Kendra grinned wide,
then flung the dagger straight at Rachel. She twisted out of the way, and the dagger plunged into the wall over her bed, where she and Kendra—the real Kendra—had painted that mural all those years before. Kendra shrugged and brought her fist down on the shelves lining the far wall. The heavy wood splintered under her brute strength and sent a cascade of books and broken shelving crashing to the floor. Kendra picked up a massive plank of wood as if it weighed nothing and swung it like a bat.

Rachel had to fight back, to do
something
. But she couldn’t make her body move, not against Kendra. Her limbs screamed at her, but she was frozen on the spot. This was Kendra. She had to be in there somewhere. She
had
to be.

Kendra twisted like a batter and swung, and the board collided against Rachel’s side. She screamed and dropped backward onto her bed, onto her back, a bug about to be squashed. Kendra crawled atop her, raised the board again. Rachel tensed and pulled her hands up to her face in some feeble attempt at protection, but then Kendra reared back with a screech.

The possessed girl dropped the jagged board to the floor and scrambled off the bed, her eyes locked on something over Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel wrenched her head around and looked straight at the protective plant—the birthday gift from her mom. Thinking fast, she grabbed the pot and rammed it closer to Kendra. She shrieked again, choking, her skin smoking where the plants brushed against her.

Kendra lunged out, trying to keep her body as far away from the plant as she could while still trying to grab at Rachel. She got hold of Rachel’s wrists and squeezed, twisting, trying to knock the pot loose from Rachel’s grip. The long stalks of ferula snaked out from the pot toward Kendra. She jumped away with a terrible howl, but one finger snagged on the bracelet she’d given Rachel and snapped it free.

Kendra shoved Rachel aside, grabbed the wooden board, and shattered Rachel’s window. She crawled through it, leaving blood streaked across the ragged edges, and disappeared into the night.

* * *

“Rachel.”

Rachel stared at the broken bracelet, held the tiny dagger up to her bedroom light. She tried wrapping the blue threads back around her wrist, but it unwove and fell to the floor. Broken. Beyond repair. A sob caught in her throat.

“Rachel.” The voice again, insistent. Couldn’t it tell she wanted to be left alone?

Then arms wrapped around her and pulled her to her feet, and she could tell by the smell of him that it was Sid. Her vision swam, her eyes felt swollen in their sockets and a headache banged against her temples. She blinked and saw Bruno swabbing at blood clumping along her mom’s hairline. Daphne groaned and tried to stumble to her feet for Rachel, but Bruno held her back.

Sid led Rachel into the den and eased her onto the pullout couch. The thin mattress sagged under his weight as he curled next to her, one hand warm on her arm. He tried talking, but Rachel didn’t answer. She watched the moon rise through the window, watched it trail across the frame and disappear. The sky turned black then slowly bled to a murky gray. Sid got up sometime after dawn but soon returned. He pushed the hair out of Rachel’s eyes, smoothed a hand over her cheek and tried to say something to her. But he gave up and stretched out next to her in silence. Sunrise warmed the world outside the window, but it didn’t reach Rachel. She tried to close her eyes, but couldn’t sleep. Like the moon before it, the sun traced a curving line across the sky outside the window and disappeared. Rachel only stirred when she heard a new voice, deep and rich. It was so familiar, but not here. Not on land.

Rachel rolled over on the pullout bed and looked up into Kai’s face.

The merman had legs, and he had pants pulled over them. But it was his face that was the most changed. His eyes were red and raw, and he reflected the despair Rachel felt. The utter loss, and the pain of knowing there was nothing she could do. She couldn’t even defend herself against Kendra, how could she do worse? It made fire erupt in her belly to realize Abbadon had done this to them on purpose. But then the fire was doused just as quickly. He’d done this to them, and he’d won.

The bed creaked, and Sid’s hand enveloped Rachel’s. “Kai has news,” he said. He almost kept his voice from cracking.

“I need you both to come with me,” Kai said.

Automatically, mechanically, Rachel stood and followed Kai. Her legs were stiff, and every movement made her side
ache where Kendra had hit her with the board.

The car ride was silent, the only sounds Daphne and Bruno whispering to each other in the front seat. Rachel sat jammed up against Kai, the fishy smell of him warm and pungent in her nose. The older man kept his eyes forward, but he clutched Rachel’s hand tight and didn’t let go.

They parked as close as they could to Breaker Cove and had to pick their way through the thick oaks and trailing vines on a memory of a trail, flashlights jumping through the dim woods. It swung light across whisper-thin spider webs and caught at the ragged, sagging eaves of an abandoned fishing shack. The moon was rising again by the time they’d breached the trees to the curved beach.

Kai stood still at the edge of the trees, like he couldn’t bear to walk on. “
Mallu went missing after the hippocampi attack. We think Abbadon had been using his body until a better”—his voice cracked, frayed at the edges, and Kai took a deep breath—“a better candidate came along. Kendra visited last week, and that’s when I knew. My daughter … she wasn’t anywhere in that body.” Kai hung his head, like it weighed too much, then he looked up and pointed an accusatory finger at the full moon. “I couldn’t … I had no way to tell you until the moon was full. And I was too late.”

Water crashed ashore, breaking around something that shone silver in the failing light. Rachel knew what it was—who it was—the moment she saw it, recognized the silver tail and the silver hair. Grey. Though his eyes were closed, she knew they were moss green behind his eyelids. The water tugged at Grey, trying to reclaim him. Bruno wrapped fingers around the merman’s slender shoulder and flipped him onto his back.

Grey’s heart was ripped from his chest.