Maren! Maren!”
I opened my eyes. They felt swollen and heavy. I blinked and tried to figure out where I was.
“Yeah?” I croaked. My cheek pressed against something cold and hard. I was sitting on the ground, leaning heavily against the side of a stone bench. A carved gargoyle screamed silently at me, his forked tongue frozen in midair. I tried to move away from it, tried to get up, but found I couldn’t move my body. I saw walls of bushes in all directions and realized I was still in the maze.
“Maren! Listen to me,” Graham said.
I felt like I was at the bottom of a swimming pool. My vision was wavy and my ears were clogged. I heard distorted laughter and the sound of people talking somewhere nearby.
Graham lowered his voice to a whisper. “This is for your own good, but please stay quiet.” He was crouched next to me, waving something thin and shiny. He plunged it into my arm. The impact burned, but I was paralyzed to stop it. When he yanked it back out, I saw it was a syringe. I couldn’t believe it. He was trying to kill me! And after he just saved me from Anders?
I heard him counting: “Thirteen . . . fourteen . . . fifteen . . . sixteen . . .”
Didn’t the nurses on television always count backward when they wanted someone to black out after a shot? Why was he counting at all? Why did he do this to me? Why couldn’t I stop him? I attempted to scream, but nothing came out.
“Fifty-six . . . fifty-seven . . . fifty-eight . . .”
My entire body convulsed as if I’d been hit by lightning. In a single instant, I was able to sit upright, feel everything, and speak.
“WHAT THE WHAT?” I shouted.
“You’re welcome,” Graham replied, yanking me to my feet. I felt like I’d been beaten with a bag of bricks, but at least I could think clearly again. Perfectly clearly.
“What’s going on?” I rubbed the needle mark on my arm. “What did you just do to me?”
“Link arms with me, smile as if everything is fine, keep walking, and I’ll tell you.”
The chattering voices were getting louder. Other people from the party had discovered the maze and were exploring it. I reluctantly grabbed Graham’s elbow and let him lead me down the path. We turned a corner and saw the group: three boys and two girls I didn’t recognize. “Hey, Graham!” they said.
He nodded brusquely at them—as if I was his girlfriend and they shouldn’t interrupt us, I thought—and steered me past them. As soon as they were out of sight, I jerked away from him.
“Explain,” I demanded, pointing to the now-purple hole in my elbow. “What did you poison me with?”
“I didn’t poison you. I un-poisoned you, actually.”
“You shot ‘un-poison’ into me?” I wasn’t buying it.
“I injected you with flumazenil. Now, let’s keep walking.”
I wanted answers, but I also didn’t want to be lost in the maze anymore, and Graham knew the way out.
“What’s that? A flu shot?” I asked, as we started back along the path.
“No, it’s to counteract the Rohypnol,” he replied. I stared at him blankly. “The date rape drug . . .” he explained.
I froze. “The what?”
“The date rape drug. Someone must have slipped it into your drink.”
“But I wasn’t drinking! I didn’t have any alcohol. I only had soda.”
“It doesn’t matter. A tiny pinch of Rohypnol will work in anything, even water. It’s colorless, tasteless, and odorless, so you’d have no way of knowing.”
“How did you know, then?” I asked.
“I didn’t. I was only guessing. When I saw you on the patio with Anders, I knew you were either extremely drunk or had been drugged. In either case, I wanted to make sure you were safe, so I followed you. When I got to the cascade house, I intervened because you were obviously not coherent, and I didn’t want you doing anything you’d regret.”
He started walking again, and I followed, grateful for the sudden motion. Graham stumbling upon Anders removing my dress was mortifying. I looked down at the path.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No need to thank me,” he replied. “I’m appalled that my cousin would try and take advantage of someone . . . especially you.” Now he sounded embarrassed.
“So explain the needle thing to me again.”
“Rohypnol is very similar to alcohol, in that it takes away a person’s inhibitions, but also immobilizes them. It can kill you quite easily, you know.”
“Um, no, I didn’t.”
“Well, you do now, I’m afraid. The effects of it usually last about six hours, but of course, that would put you in no fit state to return to your grandparents’ house. And I did promise Jo I’d return you safely. Seeing as how I couldn’t wait for the drug to wear off, I had to give you the flumazenil.”
“And it works, just like that?” I said.
“Within a minute,” he confirmed. “It instantly reverses the effects.”
“What if I wasn’t drugged? What if I was just drunk?” I asked.
“It still would have perked you up, just not as quickly.”
I couldn’t believe it. I had actually been drugged. With the date rape drug. I wondered why Graham had the remedy on hand, and decided I didn’t want to know.
True to his word, Graham made sure I got home safely. He accompanied me in one of the chauffeured limos, although I insisted he not walk me to the door. I couldn’t handle an awkward front porch good-bye.
When I slipped into the house, I found my grandfather sitting up, waiting for me.
A sweet sadness flushed over me. I didn’t know if I was just feeling extra sorry for myself, but my eyes started to water. I’d never had a dad to wait up for me. But here was my grandfather—his dad—filling in.
“Hello, there,” he said, clicking the remote to silence the TV. “How’d it go?”
“Great,” I said, blinking away the tears and casually folding my arms to hide the puncture mark in my elbow. “Really fun.”
He crossed the room and stopped in front of me. He cradled my chin in his hand and gazed at me with a mix of love and longing. He seemed to want to say something, but couldn’t find the words. I wished I knew him better.
“Thank you for waiting up for me,” I offered.
“It was my pleasure,” he said with a nod.
He moved toward the stairs, and I followed like a little kid who didn’t want to be left alone. I wondered if I should tell him what had happened, but decided against it. It was far too humiliating to talk about with anyone, let alone my estranged grandfather. I wasn’t even sure if I could tell Jo or Hunter. Maybe in a few days, I decided, when the whole experience wasn’t so fresh in my mind and raw in my heart. Even though I knew I hadn’t done anything wrong, I felt stupid and exposed. Why, why did I follow Anders into the maze in the first place?
At the first landing, my grandfather and I parted ways. I continued up the stairs to my attic room and shut the door firmly behind me. I surveyed the room. Everything was exactly how I’d left it: my bed was sloppily made, the top of my mom’s journal peeked out from the side cushion of the armchair, and the floral garland from Gavin’s village hung from the scuffed metal knob on the wardrobe. I’m safe, I reminded myself. And I would never go near Anders Campbell again.
Still, I couldn’t get Campbell Hall out of my mind. And for reasons besides Anders attacking me . . . There was something about the actual building. Something eerily familiar.
I shuffled over to the wardrobe to get my pajamas, and carefully opened the doors so as not to destroy the delicate, intertwined flowers on the hanging garland. I thought about Gavin, and how things might have been different had he been with me at Campbell Hall. He would have protected me. But Gavin was probably halfway across the country, taking care of more important things.
I started feeling sorry for myself. I was alone and abused. And I didn’t want to be either.
When I swung the doors closed, I watched the ribbons bounce softly against the dark wood. They were curled and massed together, and, I noticed, sort of knotted.
I stooped to untangle them, but stopped short. No, it couldn’t be. I took a step back and bent my head sideways. Was I losing my mind? The ribbons looked as if they had been purposefully gathered and tied into small knots in just such a way. Yes, there was a definite pattern.
In lowercase script, the ribbons clearly spelled out roof.
Someone had been in my bedroom. I walked across the room until I was in front of the window. My bedroom light made it pitch-black outside, turning the normally transparent glass into a mirror. I was surprised to see I still looked pretty even though my hair was tousled.
My stomach was swirling, but I was sick of being scared. I took a deep breath and turned the cold, metal handle in the middle of the window that allowed it to open like a double door. I shoved the windows out, but jerked back inside at the same time in case someone or something sprung at me. Nothing happened.
I gathered my courage, leaned against the windowsill, and peered into the darkness. There, sitting on the roof, not five feet away, was Gavin.
Seeing him—his handsome profile, the way his muscular arms wrapped around his bent knees—filled me with such a mixture of relief and elation, I let out a small cry of delight that sounded embarrassingly like a kitten.
He put his finger to his lips and extended his hand to me. I kicked off my heels, climbed up on the window seat, took his hand, and stepped out gingerly. Unlike the sandpaper shingles in Missouri, the roofs in Scotland were smooth slate: slippery enough in a dry climate. But somehow, holding on to Gavin’s hand made my bare feet stick to the roof. Once again, no matter what the circumstance—even on the tippy top of a very slanted, extremely slick roof high above the ground—I felt safe because I was with Gavin.
He was back. And I was so ecstatic, I wanted to dive into his arms. Until I remembered how he’d left. The agony of missing him and the hurt of not hearing from him diluted my happiness. I sat down next to Gavin hard, and in a huff.
“What are you doing here?” I blurted out, completely bypassing any type of greeting.
“I was in the area,” he answered, his voice as smooth and amazing as ever. “And I just wanted to check on you, make sure you were okay.” I noticed his face was creased with worry.
“You’re a little late,” I taunted.
“What do you mean? Did something happen at Campbell Hall?” He looked far more upset than an angel should.
“How did you know I was there?” My ears began to burn at the mention of Anders’ house.
“I can hear your heartbeat.” His voice was soft and intimate. “It’s a tracking thing. Angels and demons can remember a particular heartbeat and use it to always find someone.” He leaned a little closer to me, and I got a lot hotter. “I memorized yours,” he whispered.
“But everyone’s heartbeat sounds the same,” I said.
He shook his head. “The rhythm of every heart is unique, like fingerprints.” One side of my mouth twisted up in disbelief. “It’s true, I promise.”
The revelation made me feel a little naked in front of him. If he could hear my heartbeat, what other private details could he sense?
“Did something happen at Campbell Hall?” he repeated. I noticed he was clenching his fists. I picked at a loose stone, not wanting to answer him out loud. I didn’t want to tell him about Anders and the almost-crime. Once again, I knew I shouldn’t be, but I was embarrassed, embarrassed to have even thought for one second about kissing Anders. But since Graham saved me, in the end nothing actually happened.
I changed the subject. “Why didn’t you just come to the party if you knew I was there, and you were so concerned?”
“I can’t go in there,” he answered.
“Why not?”
“It’s a demon seat.” He shrugged as if it were the expected answer.
“A what?” The hairs on the back of my neck prickled at the mention of demons.
“Like my clan’s village is sacred ground and the demons are forbidden from it, so are angels blocked from entering a demon lair,” he said.
I realized with a jolt why Campbell Hall had seemed familiar to me: it was one of the buildings in my mother’s journal. Huge, blackened columns with a two-story staircase flanking the front door; how had I not recognized it when we first pulled up in the limo?
More pieces fell into place. Campbell Hall was in my mom’s book, the book she called “Demon Strongholds.” Gavin had called Campbell Hall a demon lair. Which meant demons lived there. Which meant Anders was a demon!
A tidal wave of panic crashed over me. I had been with a demon. I had been poisoned and almost taken advantage of by an actual demon. A handsome, blond beast. And I’d walked right into his trap. Or more like skipped into, I thought sourly. From his butler-delivered invitation to my pampering session with Jo and her mom, I’d been excited to be his prey. I’d wrapped myself up in sparkly eye makeup and a fancy hairdo like a freaking present.
I was such a fool. I should have paid more attention. Or maybe I should have been warned. How was I supposed to know some book from my mom would lead to this kind of danger? She could have at least told me a little bit about what she did, her secret life, and how it would all come back to haunt me one day. And Gavin! He’d known about Campbell Hall too.
“How could you not tell me there’s a demon fortress nearby?” My anger bordered on hysteria. “That I go to school with a demon? That’s not information you thought I needed? You said the demons had left the area.”
“It’s completely forbidden,” he said, his face a mash of confusion and anguish. “If we told humans where demons were all the time, there would be complete chaos. I’m breaking all the rules telling you this much. But only one demon lives there, and he’s not all that dangerous.”
“Oh, really,” I shot back. “Some demons aren’t dangerous?” Tell that to Anders and his girl poison, I thought.
“It’s not that they’re not dangerous, they just aren’t jinn. Their primary objective isn’t to kill.”
“Jinn? What are you talking about?” I interrupted. “There’s more than one kind of demon?”
“Yes,” he answered. “There are three. Each has a singular purpose. One steals, one kills, and one destroys. The demons that kill are called jinn; that’s what I hunt, the kind that killed that homeless guy in the woods. They roam the world in packs, killing regularly to fill their bloodlust. But they never settle in one place, because they know they’d get caught and wiped out.”
“What kind of demon lives at Campbell Hall?” I asked, carefully avoiding saying Anders’ name out loud.
“Incubus,” he answered. “They’re thieves.”
“What do they steal?” I asked, relaxing just a bit. Maybe I wasn’t in as much danger as I’d imagined.
“Mostly virginity,” he said.
“What?” I screeched, visions of the fountain house flooding back into my brain. Gavin shot me a look, and I calmed myself down. “I mean . . . I don’t get it.”
“The incubus are pleasure seekers,” he said, still eyeing me anxiously. “They drug and then seduce girls. They’re really the lowlifes of the demon world. No one respects them. They don’t really have any power.”
“Oh,” I said, trying to sort out how I managed to be one of those girls.
“I know how clever you are, though,” Gavin continued. “I knew you wouldn’t be fooled by their charm.”
“I wasn’t,” I lied, grateful that he saw me as smart, and thankful that he hadn’t seen me idiotically flirting with Anders. “What about the third type, the demons that destroy?”
A dark cloud passed over his beautiful face. “I can’t talk about them. To even say their name can be deadly.” He didn’t look like he was kidding.
The conversation lulled, and I began working out everything in my head. Anders was a demon, but a relatively harmless one. I would just stay away from him and from Campbell Hall at all costs and, without revealing too much, made sure Jo did the same.
As I sat in silence next to Gavin, I knew I should be mad at him, but I found I couldn’t be. We weren’t touching, but a sizzling energy pulsed between us. The delicious excitement made it difficult to breathe. It enveloped my entire being, soaked through my skin.
He stood up abruptly. “I have to go. I have . . . other duties.” He held out his hand to help me up. When I took it, my hand tingled as if I was touching a low-voltage electrical current. He didn’t let go until I was safely back inside my room.
I leaned out the window. I didn’t want him to leave.
“Thanks,” I said. “For stopping by and checking on me.”
“It’s no problem.” He shrugged as if it was just another part of his job. But something in his eyes told me it wasn’t. “I . . . Well, goodnight.”
He ran and jumped off the roof, falling for a few feet until his wings suddenly burst out of his back. He flew away as gracefully as a bird, without any noise, but I imagined his wings beating to the same rhythm as my heart. My heart. The heartbeat he’d memorized.
I realized that he hadn’t taken off his shirt; that his wings seemed to come out through his clothing. I guessed angel clothing wasn’t like human clothing. Why had he taken off his shirt in front of me in the village, then, if he didn’t have to?
Show-off. I smiled to myself. Gorgeous, gorgeous show-off.