Desires of the Dead
Page 71

Jay kept moving, following the trail back toward the clearing from which they’d come. “She just went for a walk,” he answered Claire, “and got turned around.”
Claire wrinkled her nose as Jay brushed past her, half-carrying Violet now. “Why didn’t you just follow your tracks?”
Violet heard Claire’s question, and she vaguely caught the sound of Jay’s voice thundering against the side of her head, but his actual words escaped her.
Cold sweat prickled against the top of her lip. The chills that seized her had nothing to do with the climate.
Shadows tugged at the periphery of her vision and then slowly squeezed tighter and tighter, until she was swimming in a vortex of darkness. She felt herself falling, and it seemed like forever before she finally stopped . . . landing in a heap against something solid . . . and warm. . . .
Chapter 29
When Violet opened her eyes, she was inside the cabin. Four anxious faces were staring back at her.
And one mildly disinterested one.
Apparently, Violet’s “mishap” had even enticed Megan from her bedroom.
“Look who’s back,” Chelsea said as she plopped herself onto the armrest of the threadbare couch Violet was lying on. Violet couldn’t help noticing that Chelsea’s voice had returned to its normal range—the Mike-free range—and was filled with concern.
“How are you feeling?” Jay asked next, kneeling down in front of her so they were eye to eye.
She felt better just seeing him there.
Violet ran her fingers tentatively over the back of her neck and then gingerly touched her fingertips to her temples. There was no pain. It was gone now. All of it.
All that remained was the lingering pull to go back into the woods.
“I’m okay,” she insisted. And when he didn’t look like he believed her, she added, “Really. I feel fine now.”
“I’ll get you some hot cocoa,” Chelsea offered, and Violet realized that Chelsea must have been genuinely worried. She felt like she’d been seeing this side of Chelsea a lot lately.
Claire went with Chelsea to the kitchen, where they fumbled around trying to get the gas stove lit, until Megan, who had been hanging silently in the background, went in to help them. The younger girl moved expertly within the small space of the kitchen, lighting the burner and locating a pan for them, and, ultimately, Claire and Chelsea stepped aside. Megan seemed comfortable with that arrangement.
“What happened?” Violet asked Jay, when Mike went to join the girls in the kitchen, giving them a moment alone in front of the fire.
Jay shook his head, his expression dark. “You tell me. One minute you were leaning on me, and the next you passed out. It freaked the shit out of me.”
“Claire actually screamed,” Chelsea added, rejoining them. She sat down on a wooden chair across from Violet. “I can’t believe you didn’t hear her. I’m with Jay though—it was pretty scary. You’re lucky he caught you before you hit the ground.”
Violet cringed. She glanced up at Jay, humiliated. “You . . . caught me?”
He nodded, and she could tell from the look on his face that he was enjoying this part. A lot. “You’re welcome,” he said with a completely straight face.
She looked at him again and rolled her eyes, stubbornly refusing to thank him after he’d already so clearly patted himself on the back.
Megan came back in, carrying a mug of hot chocolate, and Claire trailed behind her.
“Be careful,” Megan warned quietly, handing it to Violet. “It’s kind of hot.”
Their fingertips brushed as the mug exchanged hands. Violet locked eyes with the younger girl. “Thank you.” She imparted as much meaning as she could in the two simple words and hoped that it was gesture enough, even if only for herself. She felt bad for the things she’d thought about Megan, for the hateful things she’d suspected her of doing.
Megan pulled her hand away and glanced down nervously. “You’re welcome.” Her voice was timid and hesitant.
“So she gives you hot chocolate and you thank her. I save your life and get nothing. That’s messed up,” Jay complained.
Violet smirked at him over the top of her hot cocoa. “Hers tastes better,” she teased, blowing on the steaming liquid and then taking a sip. “Besides, I think you’ve already thanked yourself.”
Claire interrupted the two of them, handing Violet a napkin. “So, seriously, Violet, what happened out there?”
Violet shook her head, trying to piece together those moments after Jay found her in the woods, after she’d discovered the location of the echo. She remembered the intense pain that she’d followed, the call of the body, and the mind-altering, drugged feeling once she’d located it. And then Jay dragging her away, and the pain coming back again, followed by her vision tunneling. And then . . .
“I just got dizzy, I guess,” she finally answered, knowing it was a weak excuse. “I’m okay, though,” she repeated, this time trying to sound more convincing.
Lame or not, no one asked any more questions; they seemed to accept her story.
Violet still felt distracted by the echo, despite the distance that now separated her from it. For now, though, all she could do was try to ignore it.
When they decided it was time to put dinner together, Mike and Jay went outside, to a small storage shed out back, to get more wood for the fire.
“Is your dad gonna be here for dinner?” Claire asked Megan, who was doing her best to remain inconspicuous in the open space of the cabin.