Storykiller (26 page)

Tessa peeked into the dark boathouse and when she was sure it was empty she went in, letting the door shut behind her. She climbed up along one of the windows looking out over the river and chewed on her bottom lip anxiously, thinking about what to say to Micah and Brand at lunch about the hair. She felt like she was always giving them bad news.

Tessa reached into her pocket and pulled out Bishop’s Shuffle. She fished out her headphones from her jacket and plugged in. The music poured into her ears and she was instantly much more sad than she had anticipated.

She became so consumed with the music, that she didn’t hear anyone enter the boathouse behind her. She was even more surprised when whoever it was hit her across the back of the head with a rock.

Tessa hit the ground and her vision was like a kaleidoscope, colors pinwheeling like mad. She groaned and looked up to see none other than Bluebeard standing over her. She rolled away instinctively and while she wasn’t sure she could stand just yet, she grabbed a nearby oar as she rolled in the hopes that it would be enough to fend the dead man off.

“I killed you,” Tessa said, her voice barely a whisper and more afraid than she would have liked. The man said nothing, just smiled grotesquely. He charged at her and Tessa narrowly avoided him, rolling away and finally managing to get up on her feet. He recovered only a second later and charged her again. This time he stumbled past her, and Tessa was able to bring the oar down on the back of his head as he went past, sending him flying to the ground. As he hit, he seemed to disintegrate, but then she realized his shape was changing.

This wasn’t Bluebeard, this was something else dressed up in Bluebeard’s shape.

When the shape finished shifting it was an angry red demon looking thing, maybe three and a half feet tall, stocky and strong-looking, with horns, bulging eyes, and a twisted gaping mouth that turned up like a smile but had nothing happy about it. The thing growled at Tessa and swung at her, sharp claws raking lightly across her thigh as Tessa skittered away, a yelp escaping from her. Tessa brought the oar down hard toward the thing but missed it by an inch.

It skittered away into the shadows, hiding amongst the boats and Tessa stood in the middle of the boathouse, breathing hard and listening for it. Two eyes blinked at her from the darkness and Tessa moved toward it, but as she did so, as if materializing out of the dark, it became a Bengal tiger and lunged at Tessa. Tessa dove backwards, screaming in surprise. It advanced, but more carefully, and as Tessa inched backward on her butt she called The Black Dove, hoping the axe’s appearance would be enough to keep the thing at bay. The axe snapped into her hand and she swung immediately, barely keeping the creature at arm’s length. It roared at her in protest. Outside Tessa heard voices and feet running on the dock.

Nothing was good.

As if sensing that time was running out to eat her alive without witnesses, the thing made a final push, its jaws open, and its massive paws outstretched. Tessa raised her axe and swung it down, landing it in the creature’s shoulder with a sickening thud. It shrieked an unholy sound utterly like anything a real tiger might do and Tessa yanked her axe out of flesh and fur and bone. Just as she removed the axe, the tiger morphed into something else Tessa couldn’t quite make out. The shape wavered, flickering almost like it couldn’t decide on a shape. Behind her, the doors to the boathouse pushed open and Tessa decided to let go of the axe rather than try to explain it. It disappeared just as a shaft of light fell on her.

Tessa heard Nash shout her name, and she blinked in surprise as she saw the creature turn into a human shape, that of a sixteen-year-old boy. Its shoulder was a mess but it backed up into the shadows to better hide itself. Nash reached Tessa and just behind him was Greyson. Nash took one look at Tessa—scratched, disheveled, and generally battered around the edges—and his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Who did this?” he demanded. Tessa was about to say something, though she had no idea what, when a pair of oars clattered to the floor at the other end of the boathouse and Nash took off running toward the sound.

“No! Don’t!” Tessa shouted out after him, afraid he might actually catch whatever she had been fighting. She looked at Greyson imploringly. “I’m fine. Go with Nash—it was a Story—make sure he doesn’t find it.” She said. Greyson nodded and went after Nash without a word, grabbing an oar on the way. Tessa climbed to her feet and tried to straighten herself up. She tore her jeans so it looked less like claw marks and used a rag to clean up some of the blood on the floor. As she heard them coming back inside she stuffed the rag in her pocket.

Nash looked her up and down when he returned. “Are you alright?”

Tessa nodded. “I’m fine.” Her eyes darted to Greyson who shrugged helplessly.

“What happened?” Nash asked.

“Misunderstanding, I think. I mean, I’m sure I’m not even supposed to be in here. It’s dark, I startled whoever that was, he turned around suddenly and I got hit with the oar,” Tessa leaned forward so Nash could see the bump at the back of her skull. Nash felt it gingerly and Tessa winced.

“If it was just an accident, then why did he run?” Nash asked, looking around the boathouse and then at Greyson who shrugged.

“Well, he obviously wasn’t supposed to be here either. Maybe he panicked?”

Nash raised a skeptical eyebrow and then pointed to Tessa’s leg.

“What about your leg?”

“From when I fell, I must have caught it on something…maybe one of the boats.” She suggested, gesturing vaguely. Nash looked around. He wasn’t completely buying it, but he was too polite to call her a liar. “Seriously, I’m fine,” she said, putting a hand on his arm, hoping to convince him. He looked down at her hand and then back to her face, concern passing over his handsome face.

“Let’s get you to the nurse,” he finally said, taking Tessa by the arm, clearly intending to take her there himself even if he had to carry her. Tessa shot a helpless glance at Greyson.

“You know, why don’t you let me take Tessa, you should tell Coach about this guy that hit her.”

Nash screwed up his mouth. “I barely got a glimpse.”

“But I didn’t see him at all.”

Nash nodded and looked at Tessa again. “That okay with you?”

“Yeah, of course.” She nodded.

Nash gently handed her off to Greyson and went off in the other direction. At the doors, he called back to her. “If you remember anything about this guy or see him on campus you’ll let me know?”

Tessa smiled. “Of course. And thank you.”

Nash shook his head as if he was disappointed in the human race that it had happened at all before disappearing out the doors. Greyson let Tessa go and they walked out the other side of the boathouse back toward the school as a bell rang out across the quad.

“So what really happened?”

“Some goddamn thing attacked me,
of course
.”

“What was it? Anything we know?”

“I don’t know what the hell it actually was, but it looked like Bluebeard, and then some kind of angry red demon, then a freaking Bengal tiger, then after I chopped it in the shoulder, a wounded sixteen-year-old kid,” Tessa shook her head helplessly. “What a nightmare.”

At lunch, Tessa clambered onto the bench beside Micah and Brand who were poring over a black card with elegant silver writing on it. Micah looked up at Tessa and her brow creased in concern.

“You okay? You look a little…rumpled?”

Tessa looked down at herself and tried to straighten herself out. She had thought she’d done a pretty good job, apparently not. “I’m fine,” she said, giving them her best, ‘I wasn’t just attacked on campus’ look. “What’s that?” Tessa asked, pointing to the card, hoping she could distract them.

Micah pushed the card toward Tessa. She picked it up and started reading.

“You should have one in your locker, too,” Brand said. Everyone from the Sophomore Class on up gets their own invite to The Masquerade Ball.”

“Oh yeah,” Tessa said, a faint memory prickling at the edges of her brain. “I remember that thing, on Halloween, for Lore High. It’s in the park after the Halloween Festival, my parents took me to the Festival a few times – it’s like rides and games and food and stuff, right?”

“Yeah,” Micah said, and her eyes actually sparkled a little. “During the day, it’s the Festival, which anyone from Lore can go to—I’ve gone every year since I was five—but then at night the park totally transforms for the Lore High Masquerade Ball. It’s basically our Winter Formal, but it’s like a giant costume ball. It’s so cool. Last year was the first year we could go. It was awesome.”

Brand nodded. “Yeah, I was skeptical, seemed like chick stuff, but people really went all-out with the costumes, and the food was good, the band too. I’m a convert.”

Tessa nodded and pushed the invitation back to Micah. She pictured Robin for a moment, decked out in costume, but it seemed absurd. School dances didn’t seem like they’d impress a bad-boy anarchist, let alone a Story who’d seen it all. She gulped and plunged in to her less than stellar news. “So…fyi…I got a visit from Detective Wade.” She paused to let the news sink in as her friends both looked up at her, their faces draining of color. “She found my hair at the crime scene.”

“We cannot catch a goddamn break!” Brand shouted,
pounding his fist into the table and jostling his milk.

“Agreed,” Tessa said.

“Did they find our hair too?” Micah asked.

“So far just mine,” Tessa muttered.

“It’s probably only a matter of time until they find ours as well. Although it’s a big house and there were a lot of other women in that house…that will help, I guess,” Micah said, as much to herself as anyone at the table.

Tessa took a bite of her apple. “Do you think there’s any chance the hair that was taken from us is about framing us for murder instead of some magic death curse?”

Micah shook her head, and Brand spoke, “I doubt it. Like Mike says, our hair probably is there, nobody has to bother to frame us.”

Tessa slumped down a bit. “Yeah, I figured that was too much to hope for.”

“You know your life is screwed up when you’re
hoping
that someone is framing you for murder,” Brand said sullenly. “But you know what really burns me about this whole thing? There were bodies—like a dozen headless bodies in that house—stacked like a freaking cord of wood, and yet they’re all up in our grill about taking that guy down. Seems instead like they should pull you aside for an award. Yeah, pin a shiny medal to your chest and everything.”

Tessa smiled. “That seems unlikely.”

“Can’t catch a damn break,” Brand said again, more to himself than anyone else before taking a swig of his milk. Tessa looked at her two friends.

“I heard Bishop’s funeral will be on Saturday—” she started.

“We’ll go with you,” Brand said before she could even finish her sentence. Micah nodded, and Tessa smiled gratefully
.

“Thanks, guys.”

“S’what we’re here for,” Micah said.

At home that afternoon Tessa arrived to find her dad, a day early, reading in their living room. Tessa’s heart leapt at seeing him there. It took every bit of her will not to go to him and fall down beside him in tears, tell him everything. But she resisted because she knew better. She’d learned a long time ago that her weakness would not be well received. So she did what she always did.

Shields up.

“Tessa,” he said, putting his book down and taking off his glasses as she closed the front door.

“Dad,” she replied flatly, standing in the foyer, not moving.

“What on earth happened in the backyard, and to the dining room window?” He asked, searching her face. So much for
‘hello’
Tessa thought, along with
‘happy birthday,’
‘welcome home,’ ‘I love you,’ ‘are you okay,’
and a slew of other things it would have been nice to hear before concern for broken lawn furniture.

“You tell me,” Tessa said, unmoving.

“Excuse me?” he asked, incredulous but restrained.

“It was that way when I got here,” Tessa said shrugging. She didn’t like lying to him, but she didn’t think the truth was going to be a big winner either. ‘
Well, Dad, a giant Troll broke in and tried to kill me, Yeah, I know, crazy, right?’
That just wasn’t going to fly. He blinked and waited, then acquiesced.

“Okay. What about all my dishtowels?” he asked, without missing a beat. Tessa flashed back to all the blood they’d sopped up over the last week. She’d thrown them out. More importantly, what kind of freak came home and immediately missed dishtowels?

Tessa shrugged again, “Maybe the same thing that happened to the yard? Dishtowel thieves. I hear that’s all the rage with the kids these days,” Tessa said sarcastically. She couldn’t help but add
, “Yup, nothing gets kids off like a sweet dishtowel.”

Her father sighed and put his glasses back on, resigned, or something Tessa didn’t quite understand. “Is this how it’s going to be, Tessa?” he asked.

“What Dad? Missing dishtowels everyday? What a travesty. How will we ever go on?” Tessa bit back the last of the words. She and her father had not gotten along since her mother disappeared, but after everything she’d been through, well, she just wanted a damn hug and some part of her hated him for not knowing it instinctively. Clearly,
she had been right to assume that hugs would not be forthcoming, no matter how much parts of her were screaming out for one, no matter how long it had been since she’d seen him (and it had been three long years).

“I assume you have homework?” he asked, opening his book back up. This was, of course, rhetorical and Tessa recognized it as his way of ending the conversation. A skill he had always been particularly adept at. Tessa turned without a word and headed up the stairs to her room. “I’m leaving again next week!” he called out as she shut the door.

“Didn’t even know you were back,” she mumbled to her bedroom door. It was funny, Tessa and her dad hadn’t had much of a relationship to speak of for a long time, but ever since the Scion stuff began, she’d been thinking about him a lot more. Who he was beyond just being “her dad,” if he knew about any of this craziness, why he’d sent her away in the first place, why he constantly tried to get her to use his name, Daniels, instead of her mother’s name, Battle. And why he’d even stayed in Lore in the first place. His job kept him in San Francisco almost all the time, why hadn’t he just moved there? Tessa used to think it was because he hoped that her mother would return and that he wanted things to be waiting for her. Why else would he keep the house like some kind of desperate mausoleum, a static monument to her mother? It used to make her feel bad for him, like he was some kind of tragic romantic idiot that couldn’t let go of the one woman he’d loved. Now she wasn’t so sure. The one thing she had definitely learned in the last few weeks was that things were almost never what they seemed, nor were they simple. Life was more complex than she had ever given it credit for. But she ached for simplicity. And for blissful ignorance.