Toxic (Denazen #2)(18)

I slid off the bed, pulling my shirt back into place, and left without saying another word. I’d gone to make things better. I’d only made them worse.

…

We were back at the construction site. Kale and I were at the tippy top of the crane, wind whipping our hair in every direction. It wasn’t raining anymore, but occasional flashes of lightning still danced above our heads.

“What would you do if I kissed you, Dez? Would you let me?”

I smiled, but it felt stiff. Forced. “Of course.”

He leaned in a little closer. “Do you like it? When I kiss you?”

My tongue felt like it was heavy and coated in glue. I knew the words were right, but somehow they felt wrong. “You know I do.”

“You shouldn’t let him kiss you,” a voice said from across the crane. I turned to see my cousin Brandt—currently residing in the body of Sheltie, the guy who’d killed him.

It seemed like an odd question, but I asked it, anyway. “Why?”

He only shrugged.

Kale’s knee nudged mine. “So I can, then? Kiss you?”

I turned away from Brandt. “Since when have you ever needed to ask?”

Leaning in, Kale’s lips brushed mine. They were cold. Not like Kale at all. He didn’t smell right, either. The air filled with something stale. Like decay. Still, I didn’t push him away.

He trailed icy kisses down my chin and along my neck. Brushing the strap of my tank top aside, he lingered at my left shoulder as a chill raced down my spine. “Time’s a-tickin’, girly.”

I jerked back, nearly losing my balance. Kale was gone, replaced by one of the creepy twins from the old house. The one with the crooked nose. Able.

“Have a nice trip.” He cackled. Arm shooting out, he tapped the corner of my shoulder. It was all the momentum my precarious balance needed. The bottom dropped out from my stomach, and the world zoomed by in a colorless blur.

One minute I was falling. Speeding toward the bottom and certain doom. And the next I was standing on the ground next to Brandt-as-Sheltie.

“Jesus!” I stumbled back, eyes glued to the top of the crane. My pulse thundered in my ears, and sweat beaded at the back of my neck as I gripped the edge of the crane to steady myself.

“Told you not to kiss him.”

“Thanks,” I responded wryly, after catching my breath.

“Hey, don’t be like that. It’s your dream.”

I took a good look at him. He was wearing the same faded jeans and Strokes T-shirt he’d had on the last time I’d seen him at the Sanctuary. He’d been waiting in a room to tell me the truth about who—and what—he was before skipping town.

“Is that what this is? A dream?”

He shrugged. “Sorta.”

“Sorta?” Typical Brandt answer. “Sorta isn’t very helpful.”

Again, he shrugged.

“Are you really here?”

“Sorta?”

“Br—”

His brow furrowed in concentration. “Layne Phillips.”

“Huh?”

“Layne Phillips.” He looked like there was more he wanted to say, but instead he stomped his foot into the mud and pointed to the top of the crane. “Things are happening. Pay attention, Dez.”

“Attention?” I followed his finger. All I saw was the top of the crane. There was no one up there and nothing else around. “To what?”

Suddenly he was in my face. Fingers digging into my shoulder, he repeated, “Pay attention.”

White-hot pain exploded under his touch, bringing me to my knees. Everything turned watery as the ground dipped and swayed.

“Pay attention,” Brandt’s voice screamed one last time. An insane echo that bounced off the walls of my brain.

I shot up, gasping, and found myself wrapped in a blanket and curled around my pillow as the annoying country music twang of Mom’s radio alarm clock filled the air.

A dream. Brandt had been trying to tell me something. It all came rushing back.

Something sharp prickled beneath my skin. The fabric ripped in my haste to pull it aside.

“Pay attention.”

And I hadn’t been. There on my left shoulder was an angry red splotch. It was warm to the touch and itched like crazy. Able. It’s where Able touched me on the rooftop of Alex’s old building. It’s where Able’s lips had lingered in the dream.

“Time’s a-tickin’, girly.”

Shit… I was in trouble.





7


I shed the blanket and slammed my hand down on the alarm to silence the music. It was one thing to wake up feeling like I’d just been put through the puree stage of a blender—it was another to wake up feeling like I’d just been put through the puree stage of a blender to country music.

If this continued, Mom and I weren’t going to cohabitate well. A quick scan of the room told me I couldn’t even rail her for it. She was nowhere in sight.

I jotted down the name Brandt had given me, doing my best to ignore the elephant in the room. My shoulder. If I told everyone, they’d freak. That had disaster written all over it. Plus as nervous as he was about being out in a crowd, I knew Kale would love going to school once he got there. The guy was like a sponge when it came to new information. I couldn’t take that away from him. If Mom and Ginger found out about my shoulder, there was no way they’d let us go.