Page 42 of Dead End

Maddie snorted. “So, yeah, I’m getting some shut-eye. See you in the morning!”

“Maddie, don’t you dare leave.”

She was gone, the door shutting with an audible click. I grumbled as I dried myself off, wincing as I tried to wring out my long hair. After changing into a clean Corpse Bride shirt that reached my upper thighs and brushing my hair out, I decided it was time to face the music.

I crept out of the bathroom, first peeking around the door, but my room was blissfully empty. I let out a breath, walking into my candle-lit bedroom. Maddie wasn’t lying. Someone had lit pretty much every single candle in my bedroom, and I had a lot of them. The room was cast in a warm orange glow and smelled like spiced apple cider. Rain pelted my bedroom window, and the covers of my black duvet were pulled back invitingly.

I took a moment to look around my familiar bedroom, and my attention settled on my vanity. It was a small, black clawfoot table with an ornate oval mirror. It belonged to my mother when she was my age and was passed down to me after she died. On top was a little snow globe. Every year since I was two years old, my dad had given me a snowglobe for my birthday. Most of them played music or lit up in some way. He found them in antique stores, and I always looked forward to adding to my collection. This particular one had a small jack-o'-lantern in the very center of it, modeled after the TV show, Halloween Town, that I used to secretly watch when my parents weren't paying attention.

I found out one year that my parents had known the whole time that I was sneaking certain TV shows and spooky movies, and my dad had surprised me with this special snowglobe for my fifteenth birthday. I stare at it now with an ache in my heart. Something hollow sat in my chest the more I watched the little black flecks of confetti sitting idly at the bottom of the globe.

Picking it up, I turned it upside down, letting the confetti fall towards the top of the glass, and twisted the little golden winding key. Immediately, my quiet bedroom was filled with soft, tinkling music. I still couldn’t identify the exact song that it was playing, but it was beautiful, haunting, and kind of spooky, and it calmed me down after the chaos of the night.

Climbing into bed with the lovely music in the background, I settled back into my pillow, reaching out for the hot mug of steaming tonic next to the bed. I gave it a cautionary sniff and shrugged as I smelled nothing but licorice root and a hint of ginger. In my head, I told myself this was just tea, but after watching the aunties cook up potions and spells, I was positive it was about to be more potent than any tea I’d ever had.

Well, as long as it doesn't turn me into a toad or something, bottoms up.

I held in a choked gag as I drank deeply. I was right; it was fucking potent. The spice went right up my nostrils, and I fought to swallow every gulp. Trying to breathe, I finished off every last drop and slammed the mug down on the nightstand. The hot tonic burned my throat, but almost immediately I began to feel its effects. Where my muscles had been screaming before and my cuts were stinging, there was only smooth, if a little reddened, skin. I felt a jerking motion in my finger and looked down in amazement as my bone righted itself right before my eyes, without the pain to go along with it.

Shaking my head, I glanced warily at the empty cup, suddenly wondering what other things that tonic had healed. How far did the magic go? If I had a brain tumor I didn’t know about, would that have healed it? Or what about some crazy blood disease or a pimple? I suddenly needed to know if it could chase away menstrual cramps.

My eyes were growing heavy now that the tonic had worked its magic, so I settled back on the bed and let my eyes fall shut. I replayed the night over again, wondering what the hell that voice had been before the scarecrows showed up. Who was it? Who hated me enough to try and seriously hurt me like that?

It wasn’t the scarecrows; their mouths were sewn shut, so who? As far as I knew, I didn’t have any enemies. Also, I wondered where the hell Jessica had run off to. She’d left me there alone without a word, and I wasn’t sure if it was just some spidery thing she did, disappearing now and then, but something about her absence made me feel nervous. I’d grown a little attached to the beastie.

I must have dozed off for a while, because when my eyes flew open again, the music box was no longer playing and several of the candles had burned all the way down. The room was still flickering with a hazy orange light, but it was darker than before. Before I fully came to, I realized I was no longer alone in the room.

Jason, I said as I sat up in bed, heart racing, staring across my room to where a small, plum purple wingback chair sat in the corner. Jason was asleep, sitting in the chair as if he’d been there for a while, but his eyes popped open the moment I breathed his name.

Grey eyes met mine across the room, and we simply stared at each other for a few tense minutes. “How long have you been here?” I asked as I brushed a few wayward strands of hair from my face, ignoring the lone white piece of hair that stuck out like a sore thumb.

Jason stretched, yawning a little, before smirking slightly. “Long enough.” He leaned forward, hands clasped in front of him. “Do you know you talk in your sleep?”

I felt my cheeks heat, but I knew he was full of shit. He was trying to embarrass me, and it wouldn’t work. I was beyond embarrassed these days. After the hell they put me through senior year, there was nothing he could say to me that I hadn’t already heard.

“Why are you here, Jason?” I asked.

His face sobered, and he met my eyes dead on. “I was worried about you.”

“Well, don’t be. I’m fine.”

“That tonic really did the trick, huh?” he asked, standing up from the chair. I tensed as he approached the bed.

“So it would seem,” I mumbled, too focused on the sight of his towering frame. When had Jason gotten so fucking handsome?

I mean… I’d always thought he was handsome, but tonight there was something about him that seemed different. Alluring, in a way. His gray eyes flickered in the candlelight, and the warm tones of his olive skin looked hard and yet soft. Wide lips stretched into a barely there smile that only really tilted up on one side. I tried to keep an eye out for those yellow eyes I knew were lurking behind his familiar stare, but there were no signs of Damon right now. Just Jason.

“Glad to hear it,” he said. He sounded genuine, and it confused me.

Shaking my head, I said, “I don’t get you.”

He stopped short. “What don’t you get?” Cocking his head to the side, it seemed like he’d been expecting this conversation.

Scooting up the bed, I hooked my arms over my bent knees. “Why are you acting so weird? Why do you care if I’m feeling better? You despise me, remember?”

Jason was silent for a moment, just staring at me. I wanted to shift uncomfortably under that steely stare, but I stayed put until he finally made his way around the side of the bed, where he sat on the edge of the mattress. Having him this close with just the two of us in this room had a whole different vibe than a few hours ago. This was private and personal.

“Why’d you do it, October?” Jason deadpanned. I stilled my hands that had been tracing the stitching on the duvet, freezing as I looked up.

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