Page 14 of Dead Love
“Protect me from what?” I threw a hand toward the mountain. “This is the most dangerous part of Punica. If it erupted, we’d both be dead right now.”
“I’m protecting you from men like Vincent Erickson,” she hissed. Her eyes were seething, steam practically bursting from her sides. I shrank back, the flowers brushing against my legs. “A man like him will rip you to shreds and laugh at what he’s done.” Veins pulsed in her face, and I hated myself for upsetting her. “Do you think Iwantto do this to you, Kora? To cage you like a little bird? To clip your wings so you can’t fly?” Her whole body shook. “I don’t want you to end up like Nyla.”
I stared at her, shifting between her bloodshot eyes. I pleaded that I hadn’t pushed her over the edge. I wasn’t the delicate one; my mother was. It was never worth doing this to her.
A pain throbbed in the back of my throat. I hated when this happened.
But I wasn’t going to let this go. I needed to do this for Nyla, even if it meant risking the consequences.
“All I want is to say goodbye to my friend,” I said quietly, my voice calm and measured, despite the tears blurring my vision, threatening to fall. “She was my only friend, Mom. I need to do this.” I took a deep breath, bracing myself for her wrath, then added: “Iamgoing to go to her funeral. Whether you like it or not.”
The wind blew through the flowers, and finally, the clouds moved away from the sun, letting its light burst forth. The rainbow of colors shined bright, and at the sight, my mother sighed, rubbing her forehead. She closed her eyes briefly.
“Fine. We’ll go to the funeral together.” She motioned for me to follow her back to the car. “But pick yourself up. Tears aren’t useful. You know that.”
The sky was blue between the trees. I blinked until the tears disappeared. At least Shea was letting me go.
Shea headed back down the mountain road. Finally, she broke the silence: “Idon’t want to go. It’s too real,” she said. “I don’t know what I would do without you.”
That was it, then. Seeing Nyla like that meant imagining what it would have been like if she had let me go to 52 Peaks with her. But the pressure to be everything my mother wanted me to be swelled inside of me. The perfect daughter. Her protégé. Her garden of possibilities that she could nurture and cherish and sculpt into the perfect arrangement, pretty and wonderful, until it went limp in the vase. Nyla had always been able to shake those thoughts from me, to remind me that there was life outside of Poppies & Wheat. Nyla had even given me hope that one day, I could be on my own.
I’ll take good care of her,Vincent had said.
Vincent’s dark eyes filled my mind. He might have been the kind of man my mother was afraid of, but somehow, I knew I could trust him when it came to Nyla.
Maybe he would have the answers I was searching for.
CHAPTER5
Vincent
They arguedthrough the trees while I dragged my boot along the dirt, scattering the seeds inside of a thin valley. With the bottom of my shoe, I moved the dirt back into place.
“Iamgoing to go to her funeral. Whether you like it or not,” Kora said, her voice uncharacteristically raised. I leaned to the side, watching her closely. Her body was tense, her palms clenched into fists. Her skin was blotchy and red, her body pulsing with energy. The florist made sure that her daughter was insulated, that she never felt anything, not even anger. I smiled. This was new, then.
Soon after, they left and my amusement died with it. To everyone else in Punica, they were the perfect happy family. A sheriff, a florist, and a pure, sheltered daughter. Even three years later, the thought of ruining their image entertained me. What else could destroy that perfection, more than a disappearance of the one thing that brought the happy family together?
Leaving Mount Punica, I drove down the road back to the edge of Acheron County, to Folium City, where 52 Peaks was located. Most of the Echo victims died along Willow Highway, a two-lane road lined with fir trees, the sickly vapor of the volcanic vents hanging in the air.
And now, another young person had died there. Nyla Nerissa.
Once I recognized her name from Poppies & Wheat, I decided I would investigate the wreckage with my own eyes. Whoever was behind these deaths had come too close to what was mine. Kora could have been with Nyla that night.
A few squad cars were parked along the highway. A silver car, the front mangled like a gnarled branch. The windshield broken, the glass shattered on the car and asphalt.
“We appreciate your concern,” a familiar voice said, “But we don’t need the mortician to survey the scene. Aren’t you needed back at Quiet Meadows?”
The white hair fell into view. Andrew Pompino, the supposed protector of the innocent, the only non-blood-related man allowed to speak to Kora. The high-and-mighty cop needed to be kicked down a notch. Naturally, I found ways to mess with him.
“I thought your team would have been done by now,” I said, motioning at the car. “What’s this about? Aren’t you going to wrap it up and call it another Echo death?”
“I am here on orders from Sheriff Mike,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “The Echo Crisis is ravishing our county. We need to protect our citizens. I will do whatever is needed, whenever it is needed, as directed by the sheriff.”
“The sheriff only until the next election,” I said evenly.
“Sheriff until the people vote otherwise.” He sneered. “What are you doing here?”
“Investigating.” I walked toward the caution tape, peering over the side. Nyla had been removed, placed into a body bag, her eyes staring up at the blue sky. A stain of blood marked her chest, but the coroner, Bill, zipped up the bag quickly. Bill hid his eyes, hunched as he pushed her toward the van. I waved, knowing he would ignore me. Then I walked back toward Andrew, my footsteps crunching the glass. “Do you read the coroner’s reports? Examine the bodies for yourself?” I laughed. “Perhaps you assign some intern to do that for you.”
