Rivulet (10 page)

Cadence had to layer on the jackets, though. She was perpetually cold, even in a room that was set at eighty degrees.

On habit and on purpose, we locked our room, eight bolts in all. We only locked three, hoping it would drive anyone who tried to break in mad, simply because they would always be locking five as they worked their way through picking the locks. We even had a pattern, a different one for each day. That alone was a testament to just how little we trusted anyone in the employment of Rasure.

Just before we reached the stairs, we both heard music coming from a room that should be vacant. We also heard girls singing,
Bye bye, Miss American pie, I drove my Chevy to the levy
...

We froze in place. That was our sisters’ favorite song; a song they sang on purpose each time Dad took us out on one of his boats. The song they sang all night long the day before they died.

I gripped Cadence’s arm and stormed forward. I wasn’t an idiot. Mrs. Rasure was trying to prove I was still ‘paralyzed by grief,’ as she put it. This was the lowest thing she ever could have done. These rooms were sealed, left exactly how our sisters had left them seven years ago. I had no idea where she could have found a recording of their voices, though I doubted it was hard to do; Mom filmed almost every moment of us growing up. She called them her caterpillar films because she wanted us to remember our transformation into butterflies under the Falcon name.

“Indie, NO,” Cadence said with a gasp. “I don’t want to see what sick game she is playing with us.”

“I just want to turn the music off, whatever tape recorder she has on,” I argued as she forced me to stop in the hallway.

“For all you know, she has a camera in those rooms filming your reaction. Let’s just walk away. Don’t let her do this to you—us,” Cadence pleaded.

I stared down the long hall, the one I had not walked down in years. “All right,” I said, nudging her to go down the stairs. As I went to follow her, I thought I saw someone cross the hall, then two others run out another door. I heard, “Abby, you stole my brush, give it back,” followed by, “Then give me my shirt back—fair is fair.”

I swallowed nervously, remembering that argument. Seven girls under one roof, we were always borrowing, stealing each other’s things…I missed them so much.

The banister I was holding turned to ice.

“Indie,” Cadence said, reaching back for me to come.

I followed her and said the word ‘fire’ over and over in my mind. I was going to kill Skylynn for taking my crutch. If she wanted it back, she should have found a way to wean me off it. I was mad at her for the first time
ever
.

“Looks like we have guests,” Cadence said with disdain as we passed the great room on the first floor. It was full of people, all dressed to the nines. I thought I recognized a few people that worked with Ben and one of my sister’s husbands, but on second glance the resemblances weren’t there. None of them even bothered to look at us, which wasn’t odd. Rasure had managed to create a disdain for us among her friends. She told them she was trying to teach us to be proper ladies and that if we were not dressed that way not to address us.

This must have been one of her fake charity luncheons. I say fake because last summer Mason and I figured out that the charity she was claiming to help didn’t exist. I was sure she was living off the donations. At that point, my brother Ben had frozen all of my assets, meaning that even though my uncle had power of attorney, he could not spend my money. That wasn’t hard to do when Ben told the judge I was twenty million dollars poorer. I still have no idea what she spent that ungodly amount of money on. I found a real charity that served the cause she was mocking and donated ten paintings that were valued at well over what money she’d claimed to have raised for the fake one. Of course, all the paintings came from her wing, which caused the next lawsuit, the one that says she stays on her side and I stay on mine, only sharing common rooms.

When we entered the kitchen, we had to dodge around the frantic wait staff that feared Rasure far more than they should have.

We’d almost made a clean escape, but low and behold there she was, lingering near the back door with Mrs. Cambridge.

“Ladies,” Mrs. Cambridge said to us with a slight bow.

“Why must you dress that way, Genevieve? At least pick one decade—either a pattern or a solid,” Rasure said to me.

Which made me smirk. “Did you not say the exact same thing to me yesterday?” I responded coolly.

“Obviously not clearly enough,” she seethed.

That made me smile.

“Oh, Celia, let the girl be. She looks absolutely exhausted,” Mrs. Cambridge said in her own condescending way.

“Yes, that is the side effect of having young men come in and out of your room all night,” Rasure replied, as if I weren’t standing in front of her.

“In and out…all night.” I glanced at Cadence. “It was just two, right? And if I recall, they left only a few hours ago.”

It took everything Cadence had not to laugh at the tone of my voice, which was mocking the ‘I’m too stuck up to be bothered with’ tone Rasure and her friends always used. I was on stage at that moment and if I do say so myself, I was playing my part beautifully.

“Mrs. Cambridge,” I continued with the same tone. “I assume you received the donations from Falcon Manor for your auction.”

“You are correct,” she replied with an all-too-polite smile. “I must say, Celia, I was surprised that you would part with such precious heirlooms. You, too, Genevieve,” she said, glancing to the three watches on my wrist. “Seems keeping time is a passion of yours.”

Watching Rasure’s complexion turn as red as her hair was pure bliss for me. I had Mason and Gavin take three grandfather clocks to the auction, along with a few smaller versions. None of them worked. Hadn’t since they’d been here, but they belonged to Rasure and I was all too eager to get those eerie pieces of time out of my house.

“Clocks never work for me. Even watches, see,” I said, raising my wrist to show her that each watch on my wrist had stopped. Gavin, Mason, and Wilder had all given me one. They joked that it was their glass slipper, that if their watches worked it would outweigh my two-heartbeat rule; they weren’t serious when they said that. It just blew their mind that the watches would work when anyone else wore them.

“Very intriguing. Then why three?” Mrs. Cambridge asked.

“They were gifts. I do hope the clocks raise the money you need. If not, I will send over something else, a painting or two perhaps.”

“I’m sure they’ll raise more than enough. The generosity of the Falcon family never ceases to amaze me.”

“Have a great luncheon, ladies,” I said with a bow.

“Don’t forget your guards,” Rasure said with disdain, nodding to two men in black suits that had come to attention the second we walked in the kitchen.

“Shame I need such things. Have you spoken with Ben?” I asked her.

“What would I have to say to Benjamin?” she responded with a fake smile.

I knew then that Gran was right: this had been resolved. My nightmare was over. First chance I had, she was going to be out in the cold. Literally.

I nodded for the men to come along, then followed Cadence outside.

“Why do you have Gavin’s truck?” I asked her.

“He thinks it’s safer. Wilder came and picked them up.”

“Really,” I said under my breath, not sure how I felt about the fact that Wilder was in my driveway and didn’t bother to come in and say hi. Then again, I was sure Gavin and Mason had no issues blocking him from doing just that.

“You guys just want to follow?” I said to the large men that Ben had obviously hired to protect me.

“As you wish, Miss Falcon,” one of them said as he opened the passenger door for me to get in Gavin’s truck.

Cadence struggled to adjust the seat and turned the heat all the way up. “You do know Mrs. Cambridge is, like, her best friend, right?”

“Yup. But the thing about women like that is that they keep just as many secrets from each other as they do from their enemies. I wanted Rasure to know where her clocks were. I gave them to Cambridge on purpose. Maybe if she is fighting with her, she’ll back off me for a beat or two.”

“Remind me never to cross you,” she said under her breath as she tried to weave through the insane amount of cars in our driveway. “You would think these people had nothing better to do on a snowy Wednesday afternoon.”

“They don’t,” I said with a sigh. “You and Gavin work things out last night?”

“There you go again, Indie.”

“What? You’re my friends. I’m curious.”

“Well, your
friend
Gavin is not over his sister’s death. He is deep in research, trying to find her killer. I think he wants you to do that thing again. I wanted him to talk it out like normal people do. We agreed to let it be, let him figure it out. He knows I’m here if he needs someone to talk to, but his heart is frozen. I think he’s afraid that if he lets anyone in, he’ll have to face losing them one day.”

“My advice: stop being a psychologist around him. Gavin will talk when he wants to, and what I did was not done to find her killer, it was done to show him she’s at peace.”

I don’t see many ghosts. I’m not that big of a mutant. But I’ve seen a few. Years back, Mason pushed me too far, made me feel my emotions while he held me and when that happened, he literally turned blue. I’d frozen him to the point of death. In that state, his twin, the one that had died a year before in a canoeing accident, appeared. Mason’s brush with death vanished instantly, but he could still see his brother, say his peace.

I don’t even want to know how the conversation came up, but he told Gavin about it and Gavin begged me to take him to that point, and I did. All I had to do was touch his hand and allow the emotions I wanted to feel for him to surface, and when I did he froze to the point of death and he saw his sister at peace.

Those acts were sustaining on both sides. They allowed me to push past that first wall of emotions, to discover that I was right, we were just friends, but it also gave them peace with their troubled past.

I have no doubt Gavin is still researching not only his sister’s death, but also the lore on what I can do. He thinks because I was born near death that I can see into the veil of death, that I can serve as a passageway to those who were lost to the living. I didn’t see it that way. I saw it as me almost killing them both and their family saving them.

Cadence never bothered to argue the point. She knew I was right, that grief takes time to overcome, that if she was going to force Gavin to face his past, then she would have to face hers, both the family we shared and the one that abandoned her.

“Where is everybody today?” I asked, just wanting to hear her voice.

The town looked so sad, and it wasn’t just because of the snow or the deep gray background; it literally felt sad. The people who were out and about looked like they’d just lost their best friend or something.

“Maybe they’re falling into the winter blues a little early this year,” Cadence offered, not really knowing. I was sure she was deep in her thoughts, trying to unravel Gavin.

When we reached the coffee shop, which was a bar by night, the lights were on. The only car out front was Wilder’s.

“Slow afternoon. Wonder where the poets are,” I mumbled, acting like I didn’t know that I would be face-to-face with Wilder for the first time in almost a year in a matter of minutes.

The shop was a magnet for the arts. Writers lined the tables during the day and bands played every night, but some days were reserved for poetry readings and such. Basically, any given day you could find an unbelievable talent inside the shop. Thousands of people had found their beginnings within these four walls. I started picking up shifts here just so I could be around the creativity. I’d taken thousands of images of the artists as they either created their work or shared it. My photos dominated the decor in this place.

“Huddled by a fire,” Cadence said as she parked behind Wilder’s car.

Right when I got out, I saw Abby and Lisa, two of my sisters…two of my dead sisters.

Chapter Six

I gripped Cadence’s arm as I forced my eyes closed. I knew by now the truck was a solid ice cube.

“What? What! You’re going to freeze me to death,” Cadence said with a degree of annoyance.

“Across the street. Look.”

A second later, I heard, “That’s kinda odd.”

“What!” I gasped, opening my eyes. I didn’t see my dead sisters; I saw two falcons on the sidewalk. As if they knew they were seen, they took flight.

“That’s not what I saw,” I said with a tremble.

“Okay…what’d you see?”

“Abby and Lisa.” I could not hide the ache in my voice.

Cadence pulled the mirror down so she could see the security that was parked behind us. “Freaking A. I told you, didn’t I? She’s messing with your head. And I would bet money those guards have been paid double. If you’re not careful, she’s going to break you.”

I took in a few rapid breaths. I felt like I was losing my mind. I knew I’d seen them. I was a thousand percent sure. Cadence wasn’t off base, though. More than once, Rasure had claimed that I was too mentally unbalanced, still in shock with grief; she knew exactly how to push my buttons.

“Come on,” Cadence said as she opened the truck door and slid out.

I balled my fists, then followed.

Inside the shop, Mason was at the bar with Gavin next to him. Wilder was behind it, and there was a writer in the corner. Besides that, the place was deserted.

I briskly walked the length of the bar. “Is it bar time?” I asked, not really wanting an answer.

I circled the bar, pulled out a shot glass, poured it full of whisky, and swallowed it whole, feeling the warmth slide down my throat, the harsh ease that followed it. This was the first drink I’d had since that wild summer with Mason, so only beats after that I felt a few of my uptight inhibitions slip away. The idea that I would have to lose control to find it again dared me to take another shot.

Gran’s image flashed in my thoughts. I didn’t want her to wake up only to see me go down a dark road that she steered me away from so long ago but I needed some courage right now, and I was sure it was at the bottom of the shot glass in my hand. “If not, it is now,” I said with a gasp, finally tasting how horrible the whisky was and remembering why I hated that drink of choice. I could swear razor blades were gutting my throat.

“I thought we were dry until next month?” Mason said as he twirled a toothpick in his hand and his concerned eyes rapidly danced across my face.

“Guess not. Pour me one,” Gavin said, only to catch a glare from Cadence.

I saw the guards getting out of the huge SUV. They’d parked and were making their way in. If I wanted another shot, I had to take it now. So I poured it, telling myself that I needed to face the grief that that vision in the parking lot had ignited. It felt like they died yesterday, the pain was that real.

Once the glass hit the bar, Wilder took it away. His blue eyes met mine for the first time in months. “What’s going on, D?” he whispered.

When I didn’t answer, he urged me back into the hall that was out of the common view of the shop.

I didn’t want to look up at him. I didn’t think I could handle it. He pulled my chin up as a gasp of fog that reeked of whiskey seeped from my lips.

“You’re cold…and getting colder by the second,” he murmured, looking into my eyes.

I took in a deep breath, smelling the rich scent of lilies that always seemed to linger oddly close to his skin.

“I told you I was cold hearted. Tell me you remember that.”

Instantly, he had my arms pinned over my head. “And I told you I didn’t care how cold you were.” He breathed against my neck, which made the entire hall turn to ice for an instant. “When are you going to get off this stage and let me see the real D?” Wilder always had to be different. The ‘in’ before the ‘d’ in my nickname was just too much for him to say.

One glance to his arm revealed a jagged gash. “What did you do to your arm?” I gasped as I averted my gaze, regretting those shots I took. If I was going insane, I wanted to be sober when that happened.

“Slipped on the snow, glass was on the ground.”

I broke free from him and crossed my arms. This was shaping up to be one of the weirdest days of my life. How could one dream predict two different wounds on my friends?

“I’m the reason you’re drinking,” Wilder stated. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought I heard pride in his tone.

“Don’t tell me you became cocky while you were out on the lam. I’ve had a bad day, followed by a sleepless night.”

“Sleepless, huh? You and Mason hooking up again? I heard he held you last night.”

I glared up at him. “What do you guys have—some kind of Indie survival club or something? Mason knows what we are. He was a friend when I needed one.”

“Survival club—really?” he said with that trademark smirk of his that enhanced his oh-so-kissable lips. I couldn’t help it. I breathed in again. His scent had always reminded me of the fragrance of spring, breaking warmth.

“I don’t like it when you guys talk about me. Pass tips on how to handle me.”

“Well, I don’t get why we can’t be friends. Why you treat me different than Gavin and Mason.”

“Because they’ve moved on.”

“You think I haven’t?” he asked as his blue eyes pierced through me.

I felt my insides cave in. The whisky was definitely wreaking havoc on my empty stomach and coursing directly into my bloodstream. “I heard rumors…but you never said.”

“You never asked,” he said as he tilted his head and gazed down at me with that signature wonder he always carried when he stared at me. I hated that look. In my eyes, it confirmed that I was nothing more than a challenge to him, that once I gave in, he’d make a notch on his bedpost and be gone.

“How long have you guys been hooked up?” That was my cold reminder that I wasn’t falling for his charm.

“This girl, a few weeks.”

“‘This girl,’” I repeated as I began to slide away from him.

“A few. It’s been a year, D.”

“I know,” I said, looking away, feeling somewhat betrayed. I wasn’t really surprised at the ‘few’ part. Wilder had this essence about him, one that was all man, completely seductive. That, along with his charm, that artistic flame that rippled through his piercing stare, was more than alluring to the female species. He told me once that he’d never had a relationship with anyone that lasted as long as ours, and we never even got started. I felt played. He was texting me nearly every day while hooking up with other girls.

“You never asked,” he said, as if he’d read my expression. “And whether this thing I got going on works out or not, I know
this
isn’t going to work the way I want it to.”

“And exactly how do you want this to work?”

“I want to be in your life the way Mason and Gavin are. You want me there, too, even if you won’t admit it.”

Wilder had always had this thought, or saying. He claimed we were destined, that I had already belonged to him. I never believed a word of it. Out of the three of them, I was always more guarded around him. I didn’t like how aware of me he seemed to be, not in a sweet way, but in a judgmental way, one that made me feel like we were not building a relationship but outlining a battlefield.

“Then learn to give me my independence.”

“Yeah, that worked well for Mason and Gavin. Those two have never said no to you. You want somebody to challenge you. Admit it.”

“I do. I want someone to push my mind, body, and soul to the limits. I want them to never let me forget how passionate every second of life is. I want someone I trust enough to follow and man enough to let me lead. Most of all, I want someone I can stand beside as we change the world. Someone who can help me ease the agony in this dark, cold world. I want a Falcon.”

I wanted Sebastian Falcon, but I wasn’t about to admit that aloud.

I never even thought about what I
really
wanted, and the last thing I wanted to do was admit that juicy tidbit to Wilder. There was no telling what he would do with that confession.

“Not everything that is cold is wicked, D.”

I raised my chin, cutting off his building speech that would try to convince me that I was not cursed, just different. “Friends,” I said to point out our current relationship status.

He smirked as he shook his head. “God help the man that does break the ice shield you hide behind.” His smile faded as our stares locked and that wonder filled his eyes once more. “There is no telling what’s deep down inside of you.” He let his words settle over me, then said, “Anyone I should be cheering on now?”

“No. Too focused on Rasure.”

He crossed his arms. “You are going to have to find somewhere else to place all this aggression.”

He hated Rasure as much as I did but didn’t see her as a threat. More than once, he told me I just needed to ignore her and wait it out.

“I’ll worry about that when it’s over,” I said as I remembered the info I had in my back pocket. “I gotta talk to Gavin.”

“Of course,” he bit out as I pushed past him.

Sophia had showed up for her night shift. She was tying on her apron, staring out at the bar. “You told him, didn’t you?” she whispered to me.

I knew she was talking about me mentioning her crush to Mason. “It may have come up, why? Did he say something?” I asked, glancing over this innocent girl who was more than likely too naïve to be in a relationship with my crazy summer boy.

“No, it was just the way he looked at me when I came in,” she said as her nervousness made itself apparent in her tone. “This isn’t going to be, like, weird between us, you know, if it goes anywhere? I don’t want to lose you as a friend over a crush.”

“You won’t,” I swore.

Her cheeks blushed just before she moved past me and started setting up for the night crowd.

Gavin was still sitting by Mason at the bar. Both of them were trying to read Wilder as he came out of the hall behind me.

I put the paper on the bar and slid it over to Gavin. “I need you to figure this out.”

“And this is...?” he asked with curiosity piqued.

“I developed the film.”

“Really?” Mason said as he leaned forward and tried to catch my gaze.

“Yeah. Anyway, there were pictures of Rasure on there, like, really old ones, and she looked the same. Either it’s her and I’ve officially gone mad, or everyone in her family looks the same. Regardless, my birth mother knew her.”

“Told you she was a demon,” Gavin said as he tapped the paper on the bar before sliding his seat back. He moved one space down next to Cadence, who already had her laptop open.

I glanced past Mason to the guards that were seated at the table by the door. I offered a nod. Just as I was about to ask if they wanted some coffee or something, the chime on the door introduced a new patron.

She was our age. Her hair was so blonde that it was almost white. She had it pulled back tightly, and the collar of her red pea coat was pulled up. It enhanced the fire engine red lipstick she was wearing. Everything about her was alluring. I wasn’t surprised that Gavin and Mason let their glances linger longer than they should have, but I was surprised to see Wilder walk around the bar to greet her.

I felt my stomach turn, my skin blush, and the ice form under my gloves. I reached for the coffee pot under the shelf of the bar and made my hands stay there. I couldn’t lose control, not in front of people I didn’t know.

Wilder walked right up to her, and she reached her arms around his neck and eased her body against him, whispering something in his ear as she caught my stare. He looked uncomfortable, not because of her touch, but because I was in the same room.

“Looks like somebody forgot to tell Wilder rule number one thousand and sixty,” Mason joked.

Gavin looked up from his work and smirked. “The most important one.”

“And what rule is that?” I asked, relieved I had something else to focus my attention on.

“Never bring the ‘next’ girl around Indie without warning,” Mason answered.

“But that rule is null and void if she is the one that hooked you up with her,” Gavin said, raising his hand as if he were declaring it. Cadence elbowed him, but he only vaguely acknowledged the blow. He was staring at me, trying to see if I was really upset. I shook my head no once.

“So I hear,” Mason said as his charismatic stare caught Sophie’s as she set a fresh cup of coffee in front of him. She blushed again and then walked away.

“All right. That’s enough. I’m declaring an official end to the Indie Survival Club. I can’t stand that you guys talk about me. It makes me feel cheap.”

The playfulness both Gavin and Mason had been talking with evaporated immediately. “That is the last thing you should feel like,” Mason said, leaning closer to me, reaching for my arm. “Closed club. Promise.”

Gavin moved down a seat closer to Mason. “Indie. It’s not a club. If it was, it would just be Mason and me, and we just don’t want anyone to hurt you or push you. We knew if you found out Wilder wanted to meet you and we blocked him that you would take it the wrong way, see us as obsessed or something. We just never expected you to let him in so fast. He’s not really your style.”