Page 91 of Half the Summer's Night
“Now.” Charlotte presses down on the gas, and the car surges forward. “Are you going to want to clean up first? Or go straight to Abi’s house?”
I don’t have to think about it. “Go straight there. And hurry.”
Charlotte smiles. I can feel the wickedness seeping off her, and I think it’s the same as my wickedness. “Good boy. Seems like you can listen after all.”
Something’s wrong.
I feel it as soon as Charlotte pulls up in front of the funeral parlor. The night iswrong. There’s a scent that permeates the air, overly sweet like rotting roses.
Abi’s fear. But it’s faint. It’sold.
“Fuck.” I scramble for the door handle in a panic. “Fuck, someone was here. ”
“I feel it, too.” Charlotte’s voice is as cold as steel. She cuts the car engine and puts her hand on my bicep. “Rowan, stop. We need to take this slowly so you?—”
“Fuck that! I need to make sure Abi’s okay.” I kick the door open, letting in more of that scent. It reminds me of the first night Abi saw me—saw therealme, with my killing face.
She’d already seen the real you.
I shove the thought aside and tear across the lawn, sniffing at the air. I feel like I can’t get at anything, though. My killing face is in the way, making everything smell like rubber. There’s the trace of Abi’s scent on the air, but the face—the mask—is like a barrier between me and her.
So I yank it off and breathe deep, the air shuddering into my lungs. I take it all in: Abi’s fear, the salt of the ocean behind me, the dry dusty scent of the cemetery. And something else. A tang of adrenaline.
Footsteps patter behind me. “There’s no one here,” Charlotte says.
I whirl around on her, and her eyes widen when she sees me without my face. But she doesn’t say anything.
“Itoldyou I needed to be back before dark.”
“We can find her,” Charlotte says. “Don’t worry.”
I scoff at that—right now, I’m nothing but worry. I bound across the yard and up to the front porch and stop, my heart slamming around in my chest.
The door is hanging open, letting out a sliver of inside light like a knife blade.
“No,” I whisper, pushing the door in with the toe of my shoe. Light floods the foyer of the funeral parlor, as if Abi were trying to keep the darkness at bay. My chest knots up, tight and choking.Fuck,I should have been here.
For a moment, I just stand in the entranceway, hating myself. The scent of Abi’s fear is stronger inside, although it still feels faded, like a lingering cloud of perfume. That other scent is stronger in here, too. Human, I can tell that much. It doesn’t have the wildness that Charlotte’s does.
“Rowan!” Charlotte’s voice rings in from outside. “I’ve got something!”
Terror lances through me, and I race back out into the yard, my thoughts all in a panic. There’s no sign of Charlotte, and for a second, I think this is all some terrible trick. But then I feel her. She’s around the side of the house.
I jump off the porch and move into the shadows to find her standing beside the big oak tree where I spent so many nights watching Abi through the window. The light is on in her living room window, and for a moment, I can almost pretend that she’s in there, the TV turned low, and I’m nestled in the branches and she’s safe. Everyone’s safe.
But no. Charlotte is kneeling at the base of the tree, holding something.
“I found a gun,” she says.
I stalk toward her, my throat dry with fear. She stands up and shows me a basic hunting rifle. I snatch it out of her hands and check the chamber. Empty.
“It hasn’t been fired,” she says. “You would smell the gunpowder. But there’s something else.”
I jerk my gaze up to her, my blood pounding in my ears. This is her fault. Her fault for talking me into that third kill, even though I was already antsy to be back here with Abi.
“What?” I bark. Anyone else would have flinched away from me. But Charlotte doesn’t even blink.
“You don’t smell it?” she asks.
