I don’t really see Devereaux in the coming week, so we aren’t forced to awkwardly talk about what happened between us after he broke Chip’s nose. I’m certain he spent the night at Claire’s after kissing me like that, so I’m not exactly happy with him. But I take Brody’s advice and don’t tell Jules.
The visions increase. Two, three times a day I catch glimpses of a slithering body disappearing around the corner or into air vents. I can’t shake the sense of dread that engulfs me, like something is coming. Mama and Grandmother are both working hard with their own senses to find out what’s coming, but to no avail. Keep your eyes open they keep telling me, but all I see are snakes.
Thursday comes, and all day I’m worrying my lip, dreading being stuck in the cab of Dev’s truck with him for a half an hour. Dreading the way his smell will permeate my senses from all angles.
Jules and I walk home like normal and I stow my backpack inside before meeting Dev in his driveway. We stare at one another for a moment before each silently climbing into the truck. The first ten minutes are silent, and I’m fighting a war with myself, using every distraction tactic I know in order to not pounce on him and try and relive that kiss.
I crack the window and choke down fresh air.
Finally, he clears his throat. “We should talk about what happened at the party, Emmy.”
My heartbeat skyrockets, and I’m not sure if it’s because we’re finally having this conversation or simply because he said my name.
“About you breaking Chip’s nose or about what happened after?” By some miracle my voice doesn’t shake.
“After,” He says gruffly, his grey-green eyes focused on the road ahead, his hands tight on the steering wheel.
“It was my fault,” I say after some deliberation, remembering Brody’s derisive snort at the idea that Dev would ever willingly kiss me.
Dev glances sideways at me, his expression unreadable. “Maybe to start with. But I didn’t … I shouldn’t have …” He sighs. “Look. It was a mistake and it can’t happen again. For multiple reasons. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say quickly, having imagined way more of a verbal lashing. “But, um, what are the multiple reasons?”
He exhales through his nose and flexes his fingers. “Well for one, I have a girlfriend.”
Right. I feel my face pucker like I’ve licked something sour.
“And two, Julius.”
“What does Jules have to do with this?” I ask, frustrated.
Dev looks incredulous when he turns to me. “What are you talking about? Jules has everything to do with this. The little punk’s in love with you.”
My breath catches in my throat at this revelation, and my mind immediately begins to deny it. “No way. He would have … he wouldn’t be so… no way.”
“Well he’s never said it outright,” Dev concedes. “But it’s obvious to me how important you are to him. He’s protective of you and spends as much of his free time with you as he can.”
I exhale, relieved. “That doesn’t mean he’s in love with me, Devereaux. We’re best friends.”
“Still. Please don’t tell him, if you haven’t already. About kissin’ me.”
“I won’t,” I grumble. “Brody already warned me not to anyway when he drove us home. Jules was passed out.”
He nods grimly, swallowing. I watch his adam’s apple bob with an ache in my chest.
“Good,” he says.
“Did you…” I must be a masochist because I can’t help the words that fly out of my mouth now. “Did you spend the night with Claire? After?”
A touch of color graces his immaculate cheekbones. “That’s none of your business, Em.”
The tires crunch as we turn onto the long gravel drive up to MoonHollow.
As the ancient house comes into view my breathing accelerates and I’m overcome with a feeling of icy fingers sliding up my spine.
Dev must hear my suddenly uneven breathing because he sighs. “Come on now, she’s my girlfr-“
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“It’s not that,” I snap. “Somethings wrong.”
The feeling only increases as we near the house and I lean forward in my seat, barely daring to breathe now.
We pull into the circle drive just as the sun sinks below the horizon. Sitting on the front steps is Edward, Moonhollow’s old groundskeeper. He’s always been a sweetheart, full of smiles and the occasional wise words, but tonight he looks strange. He’s pale, staring at the ground, and his hands are covered in…
“Is that blood?” I gasp, fumbling with the handle of the truck door until it swings open and I practically fall out.
The air is thick with magic.
“Emmy!” I distantly hear Dev growl as he hops out to follow me.
I stumble to a stop before Edward and he looks up at me. His electric blue eyes, identical to my mother’s, glisten with the sheen of tears.
“I was too late,” He rasps. “I couldn’t save her, couldn’t stop her…”
“Edward, what are you talking about?” My voice shakes. I look past him to the door. It’s hanging open and at a weird angle, like it’s missing a hinge. My feet start moving before my mind catches up.
“Emmy? What are you doing? Stop!” Dev sounds frantic behind me. “Don’t go in there!” He’s suddenly right against my back, putting a restricting arm across my chest. “Emmy we need to call the police and wait out here.”
But it’s almost like I can’t even hear him. My need to go inside is too great. I bring a hand up and touch his arm, having no trouble summoning fire this time.
“Ah! What the fuck?!” He steps back, clutching his arm in horror as I pass through the doorway and step inside.
The smell hits me first. The scent of ozone, sulfur and copper. Magic and blood.
I turn the corner from the foyer into the living room and swallow, bringing a hand to my mouth. The blood is everywhere, the walls, the ceiling, the furniture, the curtains. And it’s not just blood but chunks of flesh and organs, clothing and hair and bone fragments. And snakes. Hundreds of snakes, writhing and twisting all over the floor, covered in grandmothers blood. They hiss at me as if to say See? We told you this was coming.
Devereaux is beside me then, looking all around the room. He doesn’t seem to notice the snakes which leads me to believe that they’re in my head.
I’m reminded briefly that it was he and Jules who had found their mother’s body when they were younger, after she’d overdosed on her sleeping pills. He’s done this before, I realize, as he pulls out his phone and dials 9-1-1. I hear him distantly, even though he’s right beside me. My own blood pounds in my ears as I look at the rent remains of my Grandmother, searching for anything big enough to identify her by.
My mind rebels when I find nothing substantial and my stomach does a kick, and I’m soon emptying it onto the floor before me. A hand holds back my hair and then I’m being led outside.
I drop down beside Edward, who looks as though his world might be shattering even more than mine. His head is in his hands, silver hair clenched between his fingers. I’ve always suspected that he was my grandfather, but it has never been addressed. One of the things that goes undiscussed in the Adelfi family.
I think I’m in shock, because Dev is standing in front of me and words seem to be coming out of his mouth but I can’t hear him. I’m not even sure he’s real right now. Like the snakes, perhaps he’s just in my mind. A way for my subconscious to comfort me. Maybe it’s just Edward and I on this porch, rocking back and forth as darkness falls and Grandmothers blood cools inside, irrevocably ruining her precious rugs.
I reach out to Dev’s chest, just to check, and when my fingertips meet firmness I choke out a sob of relief, grasping at the fabric of his t-shirt. In the next second my face is pressed against him and his strong arms wrap around me, holding me while I shudder.
Time passes. I’m not sure how much. I hide, breathing in Dev’s spearmint and cedar scent. Somehow it centers me, as much as I can be centered at the moment.
The sheriff's department arrives and asks questions, but Dev is the only one of the three of us coherent enough to answer. Then Brody’s truck rolls up and out climb Brody, Jules and Mama. They must have gotten her from the shop.
Her voice I can hear clearly. She marches past us and demands to see what they’re now calling the ‘crime scene’. It’s strange to me to see her here, on this porch. It’s been years since she’s visited this house. She disappears inside.
My hearing is coming back slowly, sounds filtering in. The hushed voices of the deputies as they radio out for assistance. There are maybe four of them. Dev is explaining to Brody and Jules the events that led us to where we are now, standing in front of the steps, with me clutching him in a death grip. I don’t even remember standing up.
Slowly I uncurl my fingers from Dev’s shirt and he looks down at me in surprise. He’s pale, and his breathing is quick but his eyes are cognizant and concerned.
“Hey there,” He says cautiously. “How ya doin?”
Jules is staring at me with wide eyes, looking like he wants to pull me to him but is also afraid to touch me. He knows that Grandmothers death is probably magical in nature, that there is more to this. That somebody didn’t just blow her up. Not that that isn’t weird on its own. I’m sure the deputies are baffled.
If I had had the presence of mind I would have stopped Dev from calling the police, because now they’re going to investigate. But it can’t really be helped now.
Mama comes out of the house, her lips pursed tight. She glances at the three boys surrounding me and seems to deem me safe because she turns her attention to Edward, kneeling in front of him to look up into his face. The two of them speak softly and I see him shake his head once or twice before she pulls him into a tight hug, still kneeling.
Brody is staring out over the rapidly darkening fields, his jaw set grimly.
Jules tentatively reaches out and takes my hand, squeezing. “Emmy?”
I blink at him and swallow, trying to find my voice. “Jules,” I manage.
He pulls me from his brother and into his arms. I wrap myself around his neck and squeeze him hard while he strokes my hair with shaking hands.
The rest of the night is a blur. Mama sends Brody and the LaTour boys home and we ride with the Sheriff. I’m not sure where Edward ends up. I fall into bed later, bone tired and utterly numb. I know I should be feeling things; grief, guilt, fear, curiosity. But tonight I’m just blank as I stare at the ceiling.