ReAwakened Page 15

  Bottle in hand, Razor walked over to me and bent down, bringing his lips to my ear. “Exactly,” he whispered, then pulled back. “Who knows what tomorrow has in store? So live a little today. Just this once. You can go back to worrying and training and fighting and all that important stuff tomorrow.” He placed the word important in air quotations.

  “Oh, I suppose I should apologize for focusing on reality?” I growled, fighting to contain my anger. “I’m sorry that I’m not as good as you at not caring about things.”

  A brief flash of pain ignited in his eyes, but he recovered his stoic glare. “I do care about things. I just happen to also care about myself.” His voice softened a little as he said, “Look, D…life is complicated and impractical and unplanned. You never know when you’re going to lose someone you care about because of some stupid, unpredictable thing, or if you’re going to go to work one day, only to have your dead brother rip out your throat.” He took a swig of the bubbly. “One day, you just wake up dying, or worse, have someone die in your arms, and realize that you’ve been so focused on the future that you never actually lived in the present. By that point, it’s too late. So I say, sometimes you just need to stick it to reality and actually live!”

  Watching Razor transform as he spoke was fascinating. And extremely frightening. I’d barely known him for forty-eight hours, but already, I could note a rhythm in his behavior. Whether his hurt had to do with his family or something even bigger, the nonchalant, careless, cooler-than-thou attitude was a huge front for whatever lay below the surface. Every so often, the pain that he was guarding so tightly would shine through for a split second, only to be drowned out by trifling—and usually inappropriate—comments. This careful guarding of feelings was a York trait, for sure, but where Sebastian hardened and shut down, Razor went to the other extreme. I was always trying to make Sebastian talk. The trouble with his brother, on the other hand, was getting him to stop.

  I sighed, defeated. “Okay,” I agreed. “We live. We relax.” It was my turn to use air quotes. “But no alcohol at this party.” I took the bottle out of his hand.

  “What do you suggest we do, then?” Razor asked, pouting at the bubbles fizzing out of the drink.

  Everyone looked at me expectantly. I tried to think of a time that I’d actually attended a party. Aside from hiding in my room during the President’s Ball, I couldn’t come up with anything. Razor was right. Party and relax, were not words that had a place in my personal dictionary. They belonged with other words I liked to avoid—lip-gloss, high heels, and love.

  As quickly as Razor’s frown had appeared, it was overtaken by a mischievous smile. “If you can’t think of anything, I have a great idea how to introduce the word relax into your vocabulary,” he said in a tone that signified danger. He stepped toward me, cupping my chin in his hand. “But that party would require only you and me.”

  Sebastian chose that particular moment to descend into the room. The look he gave his brother caused Razor’s hand to drop from my face, but he didn’t step away.

  Sebastian moved to stand beside me. “Dawn is not interested in partying with you,” he growled.

  “Aww, you wanna be the only one partying with our D?” Razor teased.

  “No!” Sebastian and I shouted in unison. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him. Thankfully, I had no problem shooting daggers in Razor’s direction.

  “You heard her,” Ethan was beside me now, grabbing my hand and pulling me away from Sebastian and Razor. “Not interested,” he told Sebastian. “And not your D,” he said to Razor.

  The testosterone in the room was rapidly rising. The York brothers stopped glaring at each other and turned to Ethan instead. He blushed, but stood his ground with his jaw set.

  “Ahh, the plot thickens.” Razor smirked as I rolled my eyes at the trio.

  I didn’t do this. Whatever this masculine posturing was, I wanted no part of it.

  “To tell you the truth, I’m losing my interest in partying with anyone,” I said, yanking my hand away from Ethan, and moving across the room to stand beside Brooke and Sophie. “Except maybe these two.”

  “Oh! I have an idea,” Brooke squealed, ignoring the tension. “Why don’t we go to the Halloween Haunt? It’s on tonight! I wasn’t gonna go since the whole town will be there, but everyone is supposed to wear costumes so no one will notice us. It’ll be a lot of fun if we all go together! We just have to put together some awesome last-minute outfits.”

  “Sebastian could be a puppy,” Razor said, smirking at me. “A lovesick puppy.”

  “And you could be a jerk,” Sebastian shot back. “No costume required.”

  “What do you say, guys?” Brooke asked eagerly.

  Lena threw a forlorn look in Sebastian’s direction. “Yes. Definitely.”

  “I’ve always wanted to go,” Seth said.

  Sophie smiled. “Sounds like fun.”

  “And we could all use some fun,” Brooke chimed in, happy with their positive responses.

  One by one, everyone nodded their agreement. Everyone, except Hunter and I.

  “Dawn…come on!” Brooke coaxed. “Your heard what Razor said. Live a little for once!”

  “Fine,” I exhaled. “I’ll come. But only if everyone else is on board.” I turned to Hunter. “Are you feeling well enough to go out?”

  “Dr. Carter cleared me for everything,” he said in a detached tone.

  The doctor may have cleared Hunter, but it was evident that there was still something wrong with him. I vowed to get to the bottom of whatever that was, adding my worry about Hunter to the never-ending list of things I had yet to get to the bottom of. The Born disappearances and Aurora’s haunting topped that list, but first, for once in my life, I agreed to live in the moment and brave Angel Creek’s Halloween Haunt festival.

  After all, how scary could it really be?

  At precisely six-thirty, Sophie, Hunter, and Seth appeared at my doorstep, balancing a collection of large cardboard boxes in their arms. A variety of colorful garments and sparkly props peeked out from each container. Seth had decided to “borrow” some costumes from Angel Creek High’s theater department, assuring us that no one would miss them on a Saturday.

  “Dive in!” he urged, pushing through the small entryway. “The theater kids always get the best funding, so I guarantee that there’s something in here for everyone.” He set the box on the living room floor, and began rummaging through it, yanking out a handful of costumes at a time. “Look at all this!”

  I ducked to avoid getting hit by a colorful superhero mask.

  “Isn’t it kind of ironic?” Hunter asked, catching it and holding it up against his face.

  Seth dug his head out of the box. “You mean that we’re dressing up like superheroes even though we’ve been fired from our actual jobs as superheroes?” he asked, looking up at Hunter.

  Hunter nodded.

  “Well, if you feel depressed, you could always go as Lady Macbeth,” Seth joked glumly.

  “At least no one in town will notice us if we have our faces covered,” I said, trying to look on the bright side.

  Twenty minutes later, Hunter was struggling to find the eyeholes in the mask of his costume, while Seth attempted not to choke on the tight cape around his neck. Sophie claimed Seth’s costume from the fifth grade—a bumble bee outfit—complete with bouncy yellow antennae.

  “I was going through an insect phase,” Seth told us sheepishly. I stifled a smile. Seth was lucky that Brooke was running late. If she’d been here, I was certain that the poor guy would have never heard the end of it.

  I managed to dig out a pair of old tights and a body-hugging black top from my closet. I’d forgone the tail Sophie suggested I pin to my waistband, but relented when it came to the ears and eye-mask. I even went as far as putting on a pair of high-heeled black boots. No one could say that I wasn’t living in the moment.

  Finally, an hour after our designated meeting time, Brooke burst thought the door in
a short pink tutu and a bright pink leotard. She had tied her hair to the side with a silky pink ribbon, concealing her face with a pink rhinestone mask. In her hand, she held a white wand with a silver star; on her back perched a pair of feathery white wings.

  Her eyes narrowed as she took us all in.

  I was her first target. “You’re wearing black tights and a black top? How is that any different from your usual outfit?”

  “It’s tighter,” I said, defensively. “I thought you’d be pleased.”

  She rolled her eyes, turning to the rest of the group. She shrugged indifferently at Sophie’s choice, but her mouth fell open as she took in Seth’s and Hunter’s tight costumes.

  “What…? Why…?” she squeaked, then paused to take a deep breath. “Oh, forget it!” she exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air. “There’s no help for you guys!”

  “Whatever, Brooke. At least people can tell what my costume is,” Seth shot back. “What are you supposed to be?” He motioned to her tutu. “You look like a cross between a fairy with an upset stomach and a wannabe-ballerina angel. Or devil, in your case.”

  Crossing her arms, Brooke flopped on the couch. “Whatever,” she huffed, unable to come up with a comeback. “I don’t know why I even try anymore. I’m so tired of everything and everyone in this stupid town!”

  “You know, there are far worse things happening in the world than the trivial cause of your latest little tantrum,” Hunter growled, evidently annoyed by Brooke’s outburst. “Why are you always such a brat?”

  “That’s not the b-word I would have personally chosen to use, but I agree with Hunter. We’re all getting a bit tired of it.” Seth crossed his arms, giving her a stern glare. “What upset you now? Are our costumes really that embarrassing? Or are you worried about the more important things in life, like the prom crown not being shiny enough or the cheer skirts being too long for your taste?”

  “Yeah, I get it! I’m a horrible being!” Brooke buried her head in the couch cushion. “I apologize for my existence. Maybe you should just go to the party without me.”

  “Brooke…” Sophie said, moving to sit beside her on the couch. “The party was your idea, remember?”

  “I changed my mind,” she mumbled, her words muffled by the pillow.

  “What made you so upset?” I asked. Brooke had come too far over the past couple of months to be regressing back now. She’d changed from a girl who only cared about her appearance and being prom queen to someone stronger, smarter, and even caring. There was no way that she was having a tantrum over our costumes. She was better than that. “What’s wrong, Brooke?”

  She didn’t answer.

  Hunter sighed, joining us on the couch. “Look, I’m sorry. I was out of line. I had a bad week and took it out on you. It wasn’t fair.”

  “I’m sorry too,” Seth said. “What’s the matter?”

  “This!” Brooke cried, shoving her phone in our direction. She refused to lift her head from the couch, so I took it from her hand. Paused on the screen was a news video. If Brooke was watching the news, then something really had to be wrong.

  “Seth forced me to start watching the evening news as part of our tutoring because I’m apparently not up-to-date with current events,” she explained. “Now I’m all caught up and wishing that I wasn’t!”

  I pressed Play. The image of the national news network logo flashed on the screen then switched to a shot of a pretty young news anchor.

  “Today’s top story has the nation divided as Senator Walter Mason continues to rally support for next year’s presidential election. He continues to campaign heavily on his Veto Vampires promise.”

  The anchorwoman was replaced by a handsome blond man in his mid-thirties addressing a large audience assembled within a drab government building. “If elected, I promise to bring this country back to its roots. I will dedicate all my time and energy to rid America of vampires. Our hardworking citizens should not be forced to live in a country inhabited by inhuman creatures. It’s wrong. It’s unnatural. I have been against vamp equality since day one, and recent events at the Scarlet House only prove that this shameful coexistence cannot continue. Vampires are not human and they should not have the same rights as hardworking American citizens. Veto vampires, I say!”

  “Surely, no one is buying this crap,” Hunter muttered under his breath. He was proven wrong when the crowd surrounding Senator Mason erupted in cheers.

  As the camera panned back to the man, Brooke snatched the phone from my hand and turned off the video.

  “I admit, this is bad, but it’s just some stupid politician spewing out empty promises,” Seth said. “Or, in our case, threats. Yeah, we should be upset that such people exist in the world, but they’re just the ramblings of an extremist.”

  “That extremist is my nephew,” Brooke whispered hoarsely. “Walter Mason.”

  Seth blinked in surprise. “Oh. Well, that changes things.”

  “I was fine not watching the news. I was fine being as far away from my family as possible,” Brooke said. “Now, they’ve been dragged back into my life, and I can’t stop thinking about them.”

  “You’ve never visited them?” Sophie asked.

  “Would you want to visit this?” Brooke motioned to her phone. “I have worked very hard to put as much distance between my family and me as possible.” She sniffled, wiping at the mascara stains under her eyes. “Especially when it comes to my father. I hate him. I hate them all!”

  “Why do you have so much hate for your family?” I asked carefully. “Did your father…hurt you?”

  Brooke shook her head. “My father never laid a hand on me, if that’s what you mean," she said. She was quiet, then added, "But that doesn’t mean that he and my mother didn’t hurt me.”

  Sophie gasped. “What did they do?”

  Refusing to look at us, Brooke fiddled with her long ponytail. “I’ve never really talked to anyone about them before.”

  “You can trust us,” Seth said.

  “We’re here for you,” Sophie whispered.

  Brooke took a deep breath. “I was born into a fairytale,” she said, stretching out on the couch. “A successful father, a beautiful mother, money, big mansions, nannies, high-end clothes, best schools…I had it all. The American Dream, I guess.” She sighed. “I was an only child. My father kept saying that he didn't know what to do with a girl, so I became this shiny toy he paraded around. And it was very important that I was always as shiny as possible. Looks and status were everything because, in my father’s opinion, the best I could ever do in life was become a wife of a congressman. Or a governor if I played my cards right. All he cared about was how I presented myself since, according to him, I'd never have the ability or the smarts to become anything more.”

  Sophie gasped again.

  “And you thought you grew up in the olden times, huh?” Brooke snorted, looking over at her.

  “Your mom didn’t have any issues with the way your father treated you?” I asked.

  “My mom didn’t have any issues with anything,” Brooke said. “She did whatever my father wanted. She was his shiny toy too. You should have seen all of the beautiful jewelry he gave her.”

  “Wow…” Seth breathed, stunned.

  Brooke shrugged. “It's weird to say, but in a way, I didn't mind my life at all. I guess I didn't know any better. My parents treated me well. I had everything I could ever wish for. Except a sibling. My parents tried for a while to conceive the son my father so desperately wanted, but I remained their only child.” Her blue eyes darkened as she continued to speak. “I always assumed they would love me unconditionally. But it all changed one day. My father had this very high-and-mighty friend. He was like an uncle to me, showering me with gifts every time he visited, doting on me. Then one day, just before my seventeenth birthday, he crossed a line; a line someone should never cross. I was able to get away before anything happened, but when I told my father about it, he completely ignored me. He went as
far as to say that I should be so lucky as to have such an important man pay attention to me.”

  Brooke cleared her throat, blinking back tears. “My mother also didn't think anything of it. They both just buried their heads in the sand and continued their friendship with this horrible man. So I started spending more time away from home. Away from all of them. Months later, my little mishap with Matt happened and I was turned. Try explaining to your extremely uptight, conservative parents that, surprise, their only daughter is a vampire.”

  Seth cringed. “I'm still trying to figure out how to tell mine that their son is.”

  “Exactly.” Brooke nodded. “Although, now that I think about it, maybe I should have mentioned that instead of losing my mortality, I had planned to lose my virginity to Matt. Maybe they would have been more sympathetic.” She laughed nervously. “Anyway, what I didn't tell you before is that, after finding out that I was no longer their little Brooke, they didn't just disown me. They sent me to a psychiatric facility. My own parents turned their backs on me in the worst way possible. They tried to make me disappear. No one ever came to visit me—I was just lost to them.” She swallowed hard and looked away.

  “After a year in that crazy place—no pun intended—I met another vampire. He was a boy my age, locked up for the very same reason. Except, he knew everything about being a vampire. He taught me a few basic things: how to take care of myself, the importance of garlic and good hygiene after eating it, and a few other basics. After a while, we planned our escape. He got caught in the attempt, but I made it out.”

  “Wouldn’t two vampires have been able to easily overpower any human there?” Seth asked curiously.

  Brooke shook her head. “I was a newbie, and while Luke was fairly strong, we survived by feeding on rodents we found around the place. Since it was a fairly uppity facility, to our disappointment, the food was scarce. We often went hungry.”

  Seth gaped at her.

  “Yes, this is the only time I’ll ever admit that rats were once a delicacy,” she grumbled. “Don’t you dare mention it ever again.”