Witness (11 page)

The sound of the guitar seemed to grow more intense as I impatiently waited for life to creep into my phone.

“You can yell at me with this song all night - I don’t know what you’re mad about. It’s not like I meant to run into him,” I said into the room.

The sound fell silent, and I heard an innocent voice. “You like dead people, don’t you?”

I looked up quickly to see Monroe standing in the doorway to the studio.

“They like me,” I answered, smiling slightly, surprised to finally hear her speak.

In Monroe’s hand was what looked like a rock. It was the size of a football, tan, and had crystals embedded within the surface. I assumed that was in her bag, which meant Aden had brought them in – which also meant he was more than likely in my old room, ‘protecting’ me like he was supposed to. I wondered how mad Draven was and what he was doing now that he knew I had seen Britain again today.

Monroe slowly walked over to the night stand and sat the rock down. I could see now that it had a cord attached to it. I assumed it was some kind of lamp.

“Where did you get that at?” I asked as I admired how unique it was…it almost calmed me to look at it.

She didn’t answer me; instead, she reached to plug the cord in. I expected it to light up or something, but nothing happened.

“I don’t like the bad dead…but the good dead are nice…I guess…still scary,” Monroe said slowly as she knelt down.

“The unknown is always scary,” I mumbled. Something about hearing her voice made me feel sorry for her. She had this hard core Goth image going, one that might scare most people: Black and lace head to toe, piercings, and black lip stick…but when she spoke, her image changed….it was as if innocence was washed over her. I felt privileged to hear her speak; it was as if it was her simple way of telling me that she trusted me.

Her fingertips moved up the cord.

“My mom liked talking to the dead…to my dad.”

“Your dad is gone?” I asked in the kindest voice I could manage as I tilted my head and looked down at her.

She didn’t answer me for a second or two; instead, she sat on the floor beside my bed. “Is anyone ever gone, ever real? Are we not just energy in a different form?”

I raised my eyebrows and slightly smiled. “That’s a new way to look at it.”

Her pale cheeks blushed slightly. “They need energy…to show themselves…if they just appear at will without preparing you for it…it will wipe you out…they will pull all of the energy of the room to them just so our eyes can see them.”

“Now, that’s debatable. I’ve seen my father, Draven’s mother, and countless shadows and never felt wiped out.”

Her dark eyes peered up at me. “Your energy is strong…you have developed a tolerance for the images you see…your father has done this…he is still careful not to overpower you. He comes in your dreams when your body is not strong enough to see him.”

I moved my head from side to side. “Did they tell you to convince me to sleep and eat more?”

Her blank stare told me that she had no idea what I was talking about.

“So…it’s obvious that you can see what we see. Most of us use music as an escape, a way to deal with it…Madison uses art…what’s your escape? Do you play like your brothers?”

An innocent smile came to the corners of her lips. She reached for Draven’s necklace, which was still wrapped around my fingers. I let her have it. I wanted to let her know I was her friend. Once she had it, she reached in the pocket of her hoodie and pulled out a miniature version of the rock she had placed on my night stand, as well as a few small rings. Her long dark hair fell around her as she looked down, and I had a hard time seeing what she was doing with her hands.

A few minutes later, she looked up, smiled slightly, and reached for my hand. I held it out for her, and she hooked a newly made bracelet around my wrist. The cord that held the necklace was wound three times along the leather cord. There was Draven’s pick, the small tan rock she had in her pocket, and a charm. It was an Ankh; I assumed that Madison had gotten the inspiration to sketch Ankhs from Monroe.

“I make jewelry…sometimes, anyway…I like to create new looks.”

“Well…that’s a beautiful escape; almost as beautiful as this,” I said as I pulled my wrist back to myself so I could admire how perfectly this bracelet was put together. I had no idea how she had connected it. There didn’t seem to be a way to take it off. I didn’t intend to anyway, though, so that didn’t bother me. Oddly, I felt safe wearing it…full of energy.

Monroe reached for the cord that led to the rock on my nightstand and turned a switch on. The rock seemed to glow slightly in response to the power that was going to it.

“Do you feel the energy?” she whispered.

I nodded, realizing that I did feel something. It was almost like a hum in the air.

“Now to speak to him,” she said, looking up at me.

The sound of the guitar around us grew a little louder.

I smirked as I smiled. “Dad…feel like showing yourself?”

At that instant, he appeared beside Monroe. He wasn’t as faint has he had been the last few times I’d seen him. There was still a glow about him, but he looked more real. My eyes grew wide with surprise as I looked from him to the rock, then at Monroe. She was rising to her feet. She never acknowledged that my dad was standing there.

“Your sister was right, though…words are for the living…no rock will bring to life that aspect…they commutate on a much higher level…you just have to listen.” She let her eyes fall as she made her way to the door.

Once she was gone, I looked up at my dad. He smiled slightly as he sat down next to me on my bed. I looked down at my wrist and fumbled with the charms that Monroe had placed there.

“Kinda had a bad day…” I whispered.

I felt the energy of my father’s arm go around me, and I leaned into him.

“Is he gonna be OK, dad?” I whispered in a tearful plea as I let my guard down and faced the fear that Draven was either fighting his demons or turning into one.

I felt a calm come over me and somehow held on to the answer of yes.

“I don’t want to hide from Britain…I don’t understand why you were screaming at me with your music…it’s not like I planned running into him…I don’t even think he’s a bad guy.”

I looked up at my father to see him carefully moving his head from side to side as if to tell me that it wasn’t the reason he was mad. “If you were just warning me…that doesn’t make sense either.”

The look in his eyes told me I was still wrong. “I like words…I don’t like one-way conversations.”

A sad smile came to the corners of his lips as he reached for my eyes. I felt the hum of his fingertips gently move across my lashes. He was telling me I had to see his words.

“Trying…” I whispered.

He nodded as if to tell me that I was doing well.

My phone began to vibrate on my nightstand. I half-heartedly glanced at the sound, but when I saw the words ‘fire’, I reached for my phone.

The text was from Britain. It read” “first he breaks my phone, then he sets my house on FIRE.”

My heart began hammering against my chest as a sick feeling ached in my stomach.

“Oh my God – what did he do?!” I yelled. I looked to my side at my dad, sure that this was what he was trying to tell me about. How did I misread his anger this badly?

My father stood, and his eyes locked with mine as he vanished. I pulled the charger loose and ran down the stairs. Monroe was unpacking her bags, and Aden was sitting in one of the big leather chairs, playing on his phone.

“Arson! He committed arson! Are you happy?!” I yelled at Aden as I ran to the wall by him and plugged my phone in.

“What?” Aden said, not bothering to glance up at me.

“That is what Britain just said.”

“You’re talking to him?!” Aden said as he tried to get my phone away from me.

“Stop it! This is my phone – your mess I have to clean up,” I said as I turned my back to him.

Aden started dialing on his phone as I texted “???” to Britain. I figured playing dumb was the best way to do this at first.

Aden stood up and began to pace the floor in-between the beds. “Dad – where’s Draven? He’s not answering,” Aden said into the phone.

Monroe and I stared at him and tried to hear the other side of the call.

“Are you sure?” Aden said in the phone. Evan must have explained something because it took a second before Aden spoke again. “Well, he must have saw him. He told her.”

Aden looked at me and shook his head as he kept his pace. My phone vibrated in my hand, but Aden held his hand out to tell me not to do anything as he answered his dad. “OK, I’ll stay here…yeah…you guys need to hurry, though; I’m tired of getting the heat from her.” Aden hit ‘End’ on the phone and fell into the chair, then stared forward.

I looked down at my phone to see the text on the screen. “Now that we are being honest we need to talk – you’re wrong I’m not dangerous he is and your new friend Silas isn’t any better for your health.”

“How do you know Silas?” was my response

“What’s going on?” I asked Aden. “Are you supposed to guard me now?”

“No,” Aden said shortly. “Dad wants me to stay here because I have the misfortune of being the identical twin of Draven – not to mention my truck looks the same as his at night.”

“So he did burn it? Are you serious?!”  I said as a new text came in. I was too mad to even look at it. My head was spinning, and I didn’t know what do; I felt sick to my stomach.

“Right now, he’s with over seven lawyers and half the city council – he’s innocent,” Aden said grimly.

“In this world,” I said shortly. “Why is he with lawyers?”

Monroe had finished putting her things away and was sitting quietly on her bed, turning the rings on her fingers.

Aden rubbed his hands across his face. “Dad bought the school – he’s turning it into an arts center where bands can play and where music, art, theater and dance teachers can teach. They’re closing the deal with the city at the site – I told you that before. Dad said they’re almost done, and Draven hasn’t left his side.”

“You know that wouldn’t matter; he could leave with his mind, and they’d never know any different.”

“Right – but we don’t have to worry about charges from the law.”

“I’m not worried about charges – I’m worried about retaliation!”

“Calm down…Draven will be here soon…Madison is already on her way here.” Aden looked at my phone. “What is he saying?”

I looked down at my phone and read the last text as I fell to my knees. It read: “I survived Silas – I don’t know him.”

I texted back “Survived???”

“Do you know a Silas?” I asked Aden before I could stop myself. I squinted my eyes closed and gritted my teeth, furious that because I was so focused on what Draven had done, I forgot to censor myself; the last thing I wanted to do was let Aden see what really happened tonight in that alley. I did what I could to block out my emotions, and memories, then opened my eyes to see Aden looking at me like I was crazy.

“Should I?” he asked with a mystified smirk that highlighted his dimples – the only feature that set him apart from Draven’s addictive image.

I shrugged my shoulders, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal, then looked at Monroe. “How do you know him?”

She never looked up at me or bothered to answer.

“She doesn’t speak – don’t push her to. I’m sure it makes her more uncomfortable,” Aden said in a quiet tone.

A sly grin came to the corners of my lips as my eyes moved back to her. She’d spoken to me. The memory of her innocent voice was allowing me to be calmer than I normally would in a moment like this. I didn’t want to scare her. Monroe glanced up at me, then down to her hands again.

“Why did you ask me that? What is he saying?” Aden asked as another text came in.

“When I saw Britain tonight, a guy named Silas showed up and got us away from him…he knew my name…Monroe’s name,” I said as I looked down at my text.

It read: “You need to understand that what I am, what Draven is - some people don’t like that. Silas is nothing compared to what you fear Bianca could do to your precious beloved.”

“He says that Silas is dangerous – that he survived him.”

Aden reached for my phone and read my texts. I didn’t fight him; I wanted answers. There was no way Silas seemed dangerous to me, not with the peace that was around him - but then a really bad thought came to mind: if Draven was fighting not to become what Britain is, maybe this Silas guy was some kind of vigilante that stopped evil; someone who could hurt Draven if they didn’t understand that he was really good and fighting to stay that way. My arm braced my stomach as I fought a sick feeling that caused the room to spin…I didn’t need another problem, another person to protect Draven from. I shook my head no. I was right, Britain was wrong: if Silas was some kind of vigilante, he wouldn’t have led me right back to Aden – back to the one person that would take me to Draven.

“If he says he’s bad, he must be good. What did he do?” Aden asked as he handed my phone back to me.