Siren (33 page)

313

my purse and held it toward her. "My sister didn't get to tell me everything she might've wanted to before she no longer could. Everything your sister
should
tell you--and would, if she really cared about you--is in here."

She took the book. It was thicker than the last time she'd seen it, as it now held Caleb's translated pages.

She'd just started to turn the cover when the dining room went dark.

I spun toward Simon but couldn't see him. I couldn't see anything. In years past, this was when electric lights throughout town were replaced by candles and lanterns. But now, the sky remained black.

"It's okay," he whispered, putting his hands on my shoulders. "I'm here."

Rain and wind rattled the glass in the windows around us. The window behind Paige cracked as a large piece of ice flew into it.

The rain was turning to hail. And we were running out of time.

I fumbled for my phone. My fingers shook and the cell phone slipped from my grasp twice before I finally pulled it out and snapped it open.

It provided just enough light for me to see Paige in front of the windows facing the harbor, standing perfectly still.

I didn't say anything as I stood next to her.

Bolts of lightning burst through the darkness like fireworks. Silver shards of light separated the sky into tall, black columns.

314

Unlike the lightning, the silver shards didn't fire down from the clouds above.

They shot up from the water.

The shimmering pillars began to take shape. Feeling the warmth of Simon's body standing just behind mine, I was calmer than I should've been as the female figures emerged and more beams of light broke through the harbor's choppy surface. There were eight of them now. Judging by the patches of light growing brighter underwater, more would follow.

Christabel
.

My breath caught. The voice inside my head wasn't Justine's.

"Christabel."

Paige's head snapped toward me. "What did you say?"

I looked at her. "Christabel."

Her face was white. "I didn't tell anyone my baby's name. Not one person."

"You didn't have to." I gave her a small, sad smile. "Betty heard it in your thoughts."

315

CHAPTER 24

A HALF HOUR later, we drove into the mountains outside town.

I looked at Simon, who leaned so close to the windshield his chin reached past the steering wheel, then at the speedometer needle. The Volvo was pushing seventy and vibrating from the exertion. "Maybe we should slow down a little," I suggested. "Visibility's terrible and the roads are slippery."

"It's fine," Simon said. "It's just like driving in the winter."

"Except it's
summer,"
Paige reminded us from the backseat. "It's the middle of summer, and it's hailing."

I peered between the seats. Paige couldn't seem to inhale and exhale fast enough. Between breaths, Betty held an open bottle of murky ocean water to her trembling lips.

"I don't understand," Paige gasped lightly a moment later. "Why now? If everything you're saying is true, why is this happening now? Why not a year ago, or two years, or five years?"

As we'd been driving, Betty had told Paige everything she'd told us earlier. But Paige's question was one we hadn't had a

316

chance to ask, and I listened anxiously for Betty's response.

"Your mother's heart is colder than most," Betty said, stroking Paige's forehead, "but it's not immune to warmth. She was at the restaurant the first time Paul Carsons stopped by and was immediately taken by him."

"Paul Carsons?" Paige said. "The first man who died? What happened?"

"He didn't return her feelings. He was married with small children. He was still drawn to her--no man she sets her sights on isn't--but he loved his family more." Betty turned toward the front seat. "Please forgive my bluntness, but I'm afraid there's no other way of putting it."

"Putting what?" Paige breathed.

Betty turned back to Paige and lightly rubbed her belly as if to calm the turmoil inside. "When Raina couldn't have Paul Carsons ... she made sure no one else ever could."

Paige groaned, but it was hard to tell if it was because of Betty's story, or her growing physical pain. "But what about the others? After he was gone, why did more men have to die?"

"Just as your mother's heart isn't immune to warmth, it isn't immune to what follows when it's broken. She was hurt. And angry. She wanted to teach other men like Paul Carsons--handsome, wealthy, successful men--a lesson they wouldn't forget."

I looked away from the side-view mirror as Betty kissed Paige's cheek and held her close. I couldn't help but wonder who would soothe me whenever I was scared or hurt or confused after tomorrow.

317

"So what are we doing?" Paige whimpered after a few minutes. "How are we stopping them?"

Betty looked toward me, and I looked at Simon. When he didn't respond, I lifted the duffel bag from the floor by my feet.

Paige's eyes widened at the sight of the silver tank.

"It's a highly potent combination of dry ice, liquid nitrogen, and chemical catalysts," I said. "Kind of like a winterized bomb. One of Simon's professors had been experimenting with a similar prototype as part of his climate-change research, and when Simon explained what was happening and asked for help, Dr. Beakman built this. According to his calculations, once we get it where it needs to go, Simon will activate it ... and Winter Harbor will freeze for the first time, locking in place everything--and everyone--beneath its surface."

She looked at me. "But will Raina and Zara be ...?"

I opened my mouth to explain why it was necessary that they both be in the water when the bomb went off. But then she shot back, and her shoulders slammed hard against the seat.

I grabbed another plastic bottle of ocean water from the duffel bag and handed it to Betty. Paige had already gone through five bottles. The water seemed to ease the pain, but for a shorter amount of time with each one she consumed. We'd thought ten would last her until after everything was done and we took her to the hospital, but we had only five left. At this rate, we needed to get to the ocean as fast as possible, if only to keep her drinking--and alive.

"It's okay," I said when Simon let up on the gas. "You're

318

right--we need to move as fast as possible. Don't slow down."

"I'm not."

I followed his eyes to the speedometer. The needle was falling even as he pushed the gas pedal to the floor and the engine groaned.

"It's the hail," he said. "It's falling so fast it's sticking to the road. The tires can't get traction."

My heart raced as I watched the speedometer needle fall from forty, to twenty, and all the way to zero.

Less than two miles from the trail leading to the top of Chione Cliffs, the Volvo let loose one final squeal before rolling backward. Simon guided her to a stop on the side of the road.

"Can we walk it?" I asked.

He didn't answer. Because of course we couldn't walk it--it was already after eleven. Climbing two miles up the steep road on foot would take at least thirty minutes in perfect weather. And once we reached the trail, we still had to hike the mountain.

"What about Caleb?" I asked. "The Subaru has all-wheel drive. Maybe he can leave her for a few minutes and--"

He grabbed his cell phone from the cup holder and dialed. After a few seconds, he hung up. "No answer."

"Oliver? Beaker?"

He tried both, unsuccessfully.

"Oh no ... oh, God ..." Paige fell back against the seat.

Like any geezer in good health, she gets tired--especially on hills
.

319

"Can I try?" I asked suddenly, my stomach flip-flopping at the sound of Big Poppa's voice in my head. "Driving, I mean?"

"Why?" Simon asked. "The hail's falling even faster now. There's no way--"

"I have an idea. Something Dad told me about the car before leaving Boston. It might not work, but it's worth a shot."

Simon looked at me, his expression a combination of confused, frustrated, and concerned. I thought he might protest, but then he grabbed the handle and pushed open the door. I climbed over the center console and landed in the seat just as he opened the passenger-side door. I waited for him to buckle his seat belt, then started the car and put it into drive.

"Backward," Paige gasped. "We're rolling backward."

I hit the brake. The car skidded to a stop.

"Vanessa," Simon said tentatively, "are you sure--"

I punched the gas once and the car lunged forward, its tires crunching through the road's icy coating. Almost immediately, the car started rolling backward.

She'll get you where you need to go...
.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and resisted the urge to slam on the brakes. I let the car roll for a few seconds, then punched the gas again--lighter this time. The tires swerved slightly before inching forward. As soon as they slowed, I tapped the gas again. Already moving in the right direction, the tires rolled ahead several inches. Anytime they began to lose momentum, I tapped the gas.

This was how--inch by inch, with Dad's voice reassuring

320

me the whole time--we made it to the Chione Cliffs trailhead.

"Paige, dear, you must wait for us here," Betty said once we were parked.

"Wait for you?" Paige gasped. "What do you mean? Where are you going?"

"They're gathering on the ocean floor," Betty explained gently. "The tank won't sink that far that fast on its own. Someone needs to take it. I'd planned for you to come with us, to wait with Simon by the water, but your condition is worse than I feared. You'll be okay, but you need to stay in the car and continue drinking. I'll come for you as soon as I can. I promise."

"Grandma." Paige's voice was stern through her fast breaths. "You can't be serious. Do I have to remind you that you can't see? How are you even going to find them?"

As Betty spoke softly near her ear, I looked at Simon. He stared through the icy windshield, his jaw clenched and his lips pressed tightly together.

"I don't want you to go," he said a moment later.

My chest tightened. He referred to tonight, but I thought of tomorrow. "We agreed someone should go with Betty. And Caleb's with Zara, and you have to monitor conditions at the base."

"I know that's what we agreed ... but Vanessa, if anything happens to you--"

"Here." I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a small tape recorder.

He looked at me, then at the recorder.

321

"It's my dad's. I found it in the lake house and taped myself saying your name about a thousand times. I thought it wouldn't hurt to have ... just in case."

He frowned but took it.

We didn't speak again. He gathered our stuff while I bundled Paige in blankets, placed the bag of salt-water bottles within easy reach, and said good-bye. We started down the trail silently, and as we climbed, the only sounds were of our feet crunching across the ground and hail clattering against the canopy of leaves overhead.

Twenty minutes after leaving the main road, we reached the trail's fork. I wanted to keep walking, to casually wave over my shoulder as Betty and I veered left, toward the top of the cliff, and Simon veered right, toward the pool at the bottom, but I couldn't. My brain kept going, but my feet stood still. Behind me, Simon stopped, too.

"I'm going to rest my legs," Betty said softly, squeezing my hand. She'd been walking in front of us like night was day, and her eyes and muscles were fine. I knew she rested now not because she needed to, but because she thought Simon and I needed her to.

She perched on a rock several feet away, and I waited for Simon to say something. When he didn't, I turned toward him. My chest warmed at the sight of him standing there, shivering in his Bates fleece and looking at me like it was all he could do to keep from throwing his arms around me and shielding me from the cold and the wind, the rain and the hail, the past and the future.

322

"Whenever you're ready."

My eyes filled immediately.

"Whenever you're ready ... or never at all ... is totally fine."

I nodded, the hot tears thawing my skin as they ran down my face. It was what he'd said the last time we were on top of the cliff together, when I couldn't make myself jump. Even now, after everything, if I chose to head back down the mountain instead of continuing on, he would support me.

I suddenly wanted to tell him what I'd learned--about Big Poppa, my mother, myself. I wanted to tell him that I didn't care, that it didn't matter, because what I felt wasn't about power or control or ego. It was just about him. And me. And the way he helped me think of the darkness not as something to fear, but something that made the light that much brighter.

But he spoke before I could find the right words.

"I love you, Vanessa. I'll be waiting for you."

My eyes were steady on his. I walked to him and tilted my face so close to his I could feel his warm breath on my lips. "Be careful," I whispered.

I wanted to kiss him, to feel the comfort of his lips against mine, but resisted. I simply took the duffel bag when he handed it to me and continued up the trail.

For the first few minutes, I could hear the hail blanketing the other path give under his boots. But his footsteps faded as the distance between us grew, and soon Betty and I were completely alone, in the middle of the woods, in the middle of the