Tremble (Denazen #3)(13)



We circled the house, coming back around the other side with the intention of knocking on the door. “Wonder which one is her room. Maybe she’s in there undressing?” Alex said. He clasped his hands together and flashed me an impish grin.

“Not likely, since she’s standing behind you,” a girl’s voice snapped.

We whirled around, nearly knocking each other over. The brunette from Ginger’s picture, complete with various colored paints splattered across her T-shirt and an extremely annoyed expression stood, arms folded and glaring at us. “U-Um,” Alex stuttered. “Yeah, so about that—”

“You have twenty seconds to tell me why you guys are skulking outside my house or I’m calling the cops.”

I pushed Alex aside. “Are you Ashley?”

She narrowed her eyes. “If Carl sent you, you’re wasting your time. It’s over. I don’t do cheaters.”

I smiled. “Neither do I. See? We have something in common already. My name’s Dez.” Hitching my thumb over my shoulder, I said, “The perv is Alex. We need to talk to you.”

She didn’t look like she was in a conversational mood. Glaring from me to Alex, she asked, “About?”

When Kale and I hunted for the Sixes on Denazen’s hit list over the summer, I’d developed a whole spiel to break the news gently, and for the most part, it worked. But this situation was a little different. We didn’t have a lot of time, and every second I wasted here was another I wasn’t looking for Kale or the cure.

It was probably a little selfish, and a part of me felt bad, but I decided the best thing to do was dive right in. “We’re here because if you don’t let us help you, you’re going to die.”

“Oh, Jesus,” Alex groaned.

Ashley blinked. I thought maybe I’d scared her silent, but when she yanked out her cell phone and I heard a distinct three-number call, I knew maybe I’d approached this the wrong way.

Alex swiped the cell from her and held it out of reach when she made a move to take it back. “Okay, so Dez is lacking decorum today—more so than usual, anyway—but what she said is true. We are here to help you.”

I rolled my eyes. Since when had he been Mr. Compassion? “Do you know what a Six is?”

She sucker punched Alex and grabbed her phone, dancing out of reach as he tried to steal it back. I liked this girl more and more every passing second. Hitting me with the evil eye, she took another step back and said, “Six? Yeah. It’s a number. Comes after five and before seven.”

“It’s a person, actually,” I corrected. “A kind of person. Like you and me.”

She looked me up and down and snorted. “Sorry. I don’t think we’re exactly the same brand of crazy, girlfriend.”

“No one is her brand of crazy. Trust me.” Alex chuckled. “But we are like you.” He waved his right hand and Ashley’s cell shot from her grasp. It hovered for a moment between us, then zoomed straight up and landed on the roof with a clatter.

She gasped, staring after it, and turned to Alex. “How—how did you do that?”

“The same way you can do what you do,” I said, nodding to the house. “Are your parents home? Can we talk for a few minutes?”

The wonder drained from her face, replaced by caution. “Now you want me to let you into my house?”

“It won’t take long,” I prodded. “I promise.”

She was still wary, but after a moment, she nodded up to the roof. “As soon as I get my phone back.”

“Sure thing.” With another wave of Alex’s hand, her cell shot off the roof and back into his palm. He handed it over.

Ashley led us around to the front of the house and up to the door. Every few steps she’d glance over her shoulder like she was afraid we might tackle her or something. Mainly, she watched Alex. I didn’t blame her. To anyone who didn’t know him, he came off kind of shifty. Maybe it was the spiky white-blond hair or the weird happy face labret bead we’d named Fred.

When we got inside, I had to tell myself not to stare. Her place reminded me of my old house. Pristine hardwood floors, ugly furniture, and a fireplace mantel complete with pictures to make it look nice and homey. A part of me wondered if this was standard Denazen issue. The cookie cutter mold used to raise their crazy little army.

“You can sit if you want,” Ashley said, sinking into the couch. I didn’t miss how she settled next to the telephone or how there was a plate on the table next to it with a fork and knife waiting conveniently. “But don’t get too comfortable. My dad will be home soon.”

Since meeting Kale, I’d become more aware. Some of it was his coaching, while some was simply observation. The fingers on her right hand twitched as she spoke and her foot began to tap. Her dad wasn’t on his way home. If I had to guess, she’d be here alone for hours. It was winter break. School was on hold, but people still had to work. It was all an act.

Alex settled in the armchair across from her, but I stayed standing. Like she said, there was no reason to make myself comfortable. I had no plans of hanging for chips and dip. “I’m not gonna beat around the bush, ’cause honestly? There’s not a hell of a lot of time. We were sent here today to warn you. I’m gonna give you two choices and the truth. What you do with it is your call. No one’s here to force you to do something you don’t want to.”

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