Blood Moon's Servant: A Paranormal Thriller Page 10

  “Help how?”

  “Alex, you’re on the run. Just because you’ve escaped⸻and I don’t like the way you did that by the way⸻doesn’t mean you’re safe.”

  He slammed a fist onto the table, making the dishes jump and rattle. “The Dark took my powers! How the hell was I supposed to escape?” Felicia raised a finger to hush him and moved her arm in a circular motion around their table. She was creating a magical sound barrier to mute their conversation from the rest of the café. Alex lowered his voice anyway. “I can take care of myself.”

  She outright laughed at him. “You got sentenced to life in prison at seventeen years old. I really don’t think you can.”

  “Take a trip down memory lane and compare it to what you were doing when you were seventeen.”

  “I was literally battling the forces of evil.”

  “You were doing a whole lot more than that.” Alex bit into his sandwich and chewed with a thoughtful frown. “Help me how?”

  “You need to leave the country. I’ll get you a fake ID and⸻”

  “No.”

  “Alex, come on.”

  “No! You don’t understand. I have things to do. Things I have to do.” She really had no concept of the mess he had landed himself in.

  “You’re hallucinating about your dead girlfriend. That’s not healthy. Maybe you’d feel more stable if you got some distance from everything that happened.”

  Rage lit a fire in his chest and burned away his love for her. “Stay the hell out of my head.” His thoughts were none of her business. Fear fluttered in his gut. How much had she seen? How much did she know?

  “I’m sorry. But I know what solitary can do to someone. You need help.”

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief. She hadn’t found out about the Blood Moon. That meant she had no idea what he was planning. He needed to leave before she figured it out. He shoved away from the table. “I don’t need help from anyone.”

  She rose swiftly and grasped his wrist. “Alex, I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but I know there’s something off. I can’t let you go back out there to hurt more innocent people.”

  He skewered her with an icy glare, his eyes burning with pain. Her betrayal cut him open like a blade to the heart. “How do you expect to stop me? You’re good, Fel, but you’re not that good. You can’t bring me in alone.”

  “Who says I’m alone?”

  A group of people rose from the table to their right and surrounded him like a swat team. Alex recognized Vince Coldine, Felicia’s ex-gangster boyfriend, Christian Smith, Kimmy’s ex-fiancé, and Dean Pacherri, Felicia’s twin brother, among others.

  “Sup, bro.” Vince gave him a cordial nod.

  Vince Coldine was ridiculously jacked. He had thick autumn brown hair and hazel eyes so intuitive he read minds with a look. He was dressed entirely in black leather and looked every inch the biker stereotype. Vince had once been Alex’s role model. A second blade of betrayal slit his heart. Would the pain ever end?

  “I thought you two broke up.” Alex jerked a thumb toward Felicia.

  “We can still work together to save a mutual friend.” Felicia tightened her grip on his arm and marched him from the coffee shop. “You can’t use your powers in public. Don’t do anything stupid. The guys are here to make sure you chill.”

  “It’s touching really, how much you care.” Alex switched off his emotions with the ease of snuffing out a candle flame. His blue eyes glowed red. “You over-estimate your value.” He drew an M16 from his jacket and pressed it to her temple.

  Passersby gasped and screamed. Felicia’s friends swore in shock. Felicia, herself, held perfectly still. “This isn’t you, Alex. This is the Blood Moon. Let me help you break its curse.”

  His blood ran cold. She knew. She had to die. His hands shook as his finger curled around the trigger. His eyes flickered blue, red, blue.

  Vince grabbed Felicia and yanked her free. Alex plowed through the edge of the group and tore off down the sidewalk, stuffing the gun into his jacket as he ran. He had to get away from her, for her safety as much as his own.

  Thirteen

  SUSAN HADN’T EATEN in over twenty-four hours. Her stomach had been in tight, queasy knots ever since Amy had broken the news of Alex’s escape. Her body was on high alert, adrenaline and anxiety teaming together in preparation of a meltdown. Chris, Jake, and Nova had been super supportive at school, taking it in turns to stay close by her side. Her heart swelled with love for her friends as they sat around her for the second day in a row.

  “All right, class.” Their teacher chuckled as he called to them over the chattering din. “I need to take attendance.”

  Mr. Zellner was a chubby, jolly man with brown skin, sugar white hair, and crinkled eyes like warm butterscotch. He was fair, friendly, fun, and slated to overtake Mrs. Peters as Susan’s new favorite mentor.

  “Daniel Abbot?” Mr. Zellner read the first name on his list. No one answered. Susan looked for Daniel next to his longtime friend, Richard Cheung. The seat beside the slender Chinese boy was vacant. Daniel suffered from severe, chronic asthma. He must be out sick again.

  She swiveled back to the front just in time to see it happen. Mr. Zellner opened his mouth to read the next name on his list, and a bullet hit him square in the chest. He slid sideways off his chair with a gentle gasp. He was dead before he hit the floor. Girls screamed. Jake dove under his desk. Susan stared in paralytic horror at the crimson circle spreading over Mr. Zellner’s button-down shirt.

  Slowly, painfully, she tore her eyes away from her teacher’s body and turned in her seat with dread in her gut. Her eyes locked with his, and her hands began to shake. Icicles gripped her heart despite the warmth of the morning. Alex Cardelle was framed in the doorway to her sixth-grade classroom, lazily holding the gun with which he had murdered her teacher.

  He kicked the door shut with a disconcerting snap, ambled to the front with an arrogant swagger, and plucked the attendance sheet from Mr. Zellner’s limp fingers. “Morning, class.” Susan kept her gaze locked on the scarred wood of her desk to avoid meeting his stormy blue stare. “I believe we were about to take attendance.” Alex paused to survey the room. “Hey, sis.” He beckoned with a finger. Nova rose from her seat and joined him at the front.

  Chris blanched. Susan stared in openmouthed horror. Jake let out a frightened squeak of shock and curled up tighter beneath his desk. Nova was Alex’s sister? Susan had laughed with, confided in, and shared popcorn with the sister of a murderer? Acidic betrayal bubbled into hatred in her heart.

  “Long time.” Nova greeted Alex with a nervous nod. Neither sibling moved to embrace the other. Alex assessed her with cold indifference as Nova regarded him with disdain. “Why didn’t you contact me sooner?” Nova’s strong, confident voice came out in a childish whine.

  Susan eyed a sporty girl in the row in front of her. She had a sleek black iPhone clutched in her fist and a determined gleam in her eye. Susan held her breath as the girl pressed the nine.

  “Maybe I wanted to surprise you.” Alex’s eyes roved over the rows of silent students. The sporty girl hid her phone in the pocket of her basketball shorts.

  “You should have told me.” Nova pouted.

  “That’s enough!” Nova stumbled as if Alex had slapped her. “Go around and take their phones. We don’t want any surprises. You four!” Alex gestured to a group of students in the back-left corner. “Stack desks against that door. You three.” He waved the gun at another cluster, one of them Susan’s longtime friend, Sarah Matthews. “You’re in charge of blacking out the windows. Use that poster board.”

  Sarah hesitated. Alex fired. She dove to the floor with life-saving instinct, and the bullet flew harmlessly over her head. Susan put a hand to her mouth. Thank God for Sarah’s quick reflexes and years of gymnastics. The others scrambled to obey before they received the same treatment. They taped black poster board to the window overlooking the soccer field and shoved heavy maple desks in front of the
only door to the classroom. Alex smirked at them with sadistic pleasure in his eyes. Susan’s stomach churned. They were literally sealing their own fate.

  Nova had begun collecting phones at the front. The sporty girl leaned over her bag and pretended to search for the phone she already held in her hand. Susan silently cheered her on. The girl jabbed the number one twice and hit call.

  Nova reached her within seconds and snatched her iPhone with a gasp of alarm. “Alex! This one has 911 already dialed!”

  Alex marched over and plucked the phone from Nova’s hand. He smashed it under his heel with rage simmering in his stormy eyes. “Get the rest of them.” He grabbed the shoulders of the trembling student. “What’s your name?” He towered over the girl like the overgrown bully that he was.

  She leaned as far away from him as possible, nearly falling out of her chair. “Sam,” she squeaked, her brown eyes wide with terror.

  “Nice to meet you, Sam.” A bang echoed off the walls. Sam shrieked and cradled her left knee. Drops of red rained onto the linoleum floor. Alex sauntered back to the front with a spring in his step.

  Sam clenched her jaw. The blonde girl on her right sobbed into her hands. The dark-skinned boy on her left took a steadying breath and handed Sam his backpack. “Bite down on the strap.” He spoke with a soothing South African accent.

  Everyone stayed silent and shocked as Nova finished collecting their phones. Chris handed his to Nova without looking at her. Susan threw hers at Nova’s face. If only she could beat her over the head with it. Anger sizzled through her like a lightning storm of hate. How dare this girl screw over Chris! He had trusted her, included her, befriended her. And this was how she repaid him? She clenched her fists under her desk and made a mental list of Nova’s sins. One day she would pay for them all.

  “Done.” Nova dumped the bag of phones at Alex’s feet. “They’re all turned off. No one else was stupid enough to call the cops.”

  “Good. Let Sam be an example to you all. Things will be easier if you do as we say. Now, where was I? Ah, yes, attendance.” He kicked Mr. Zellner to one side and sat down at his desk. “Daniel Abbot?”

  Susan’s mind plowed through thoughts like a drunk bulldozer operator at a demolition sight. She had to think like that badass cop, Kimmy. How would she handle this? Kimmy would try to get inside Alex’s head and stay one step ahead of him. What did Alex want? Revenge, right? But revenge on whom? Amy? No, Johnson had been the one gunning for Amy. Alex had never bothered much with her, and he had done nothing to Susan since arriving in her classroom. If he wanted to hurt Amy, wouldn’t he use her again? What about Peter? Peter had betrayed Assassin’s Honor and helped land Alex in jail. That gave Alex motive. But Peter had nothing to do with her or her classmates. Kimmy or Zack? Alex had tried to murder Zack in the hospital. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Zack was his target, and Zack’s younger brother was Chris! Alex was going to use Chris to get to Zack, like Johnson had used Susan to get to Amy.

  She kicked Chris in the shin as hard as she could. “Say you’re Daniel Abbot!”

  Chris shot her a pained look of confusion. He raised his hand as Alex called on Jake Andrews. “I’m Daniel Abbot.” He forced a sheepish grin.

  “Why didn’t you answer sooner?” Alex speared him with an angry glare.

  “Well, the last person who talked to you got shot, so…”

  “Everyone better stop wasting my time. The next person who hesitates like Daniel over there gets a bullet in their face.”

  Alex continued with attendance, making a mockery of a normal school day. Kids practically leapt out of their seats in their efforts to avoid his flying bullets.

  “Chris Donnellson.” Alex lifted his eyes from the list and hungrily searched the sea of faces. A strained silence gripped the room. “Speak up, Chris!”

  Susan clasped her hands beneath her desk and fought to maintain a neutral expression. She had hoped she was wrong. Why couldn’t she have been wrong? What if Alex found out what she and Chris had done? Her palms were slick with sweat, and her heart beat at triple its normal speed. They were lucky Chris looked nothing like his brother. The Donnellsons had similar colored eyes, but Zack was tall with red hair while Chris was of average height and surfer blond.

  The silence stretched on. Susan dug her nails into her palms. What if one of their classmates sold them out over fear of Alex’s trigger-happy finger? “Chris is out sick today,” Susan lied in a strong voice.

  “You gotta be kidding me.” Alex released a stream of colorful curses. “Susan Evans.” He spat her name without looking at the list.

  “Yes.” She nodded, outwardly calm, inwardly terrified. She shot Nova a defiant yet pleading look. Would she sell out Chris to win favor with her brother? The girls locked eyes. Nova’s gaze hardened for an instant before dissolving into regret. She dropped her eyes to the floor. Susan made a derisive noise. The least the traitor could do for the nicest guy in class was leave him the hell alone.

  “It’s been a long time.” Alex fixed Susan with his icy blue stare. “Miss me?”

  “Not really.” Susan returned his stare, pleased at the strength in her voice. She felt queasy whenever he looked at her, but he had never scared her like Johnson had. Alex was an accessory to her nightmares. Johnson starred in them.

  Alex made his way down the list, calling names with increasing boredom. He concluded with a yawn and tucked the paper into his pocket. “That will be all for now. You’re dismissed.”

  Susan dropped to her knees beside Sam. “You are awesome.” She gripped the other girl’s hand. “I’m Susan, and I’m going to help you.”

  “It hurts.” Sam grunted the words through tightly clenched teeth.

  “You’re doing great. We’ve got to find something to stop the bleeding.” Sam’s face had gone shockingly white. She was slumped in her seat, half in the lap of the attractive dark-skinned boy.

  Susan impulsively checked him out. He had soft-looking sable hair, dark almond skin, and kind eyes the color of warm cinnamon. He was muscled for eleven and a couple inches taller than Chris. His outfit was simple but coordinated, royal blue sport shorts and a black graphic tee depicting Fall Out Boy.

  “We should tie a tourniquet around her leg.” The dark-skinned boy spoke with an air of confident experience.

  “Oh, yeah, no big deal. We’ll patch her up and she’ll be fine. Until she gets shot again.” Jake’s voice rose with panicked hysteria. His freckled face was taut with horror, his baby blue eyes alight with fear. His normally neat red hair was frizzed with static-cling from hiding beneath his desk, and his slim, athletic frame shook like a dog in a thunderstorm.

  Chris shot him a look. “Jake, shut up. You’re freaking her out.”

  Susan squeezed Sam’s hand. “No one’s going to shoot you. Why a tourniquet?” she asked the dark-skinned boy.

  “It’s what my dad would do, I think. He’s a doctor.”

  Chris pulled his shirt over his head and passed it to Susan.

  “What’s your name?” Susan asked the doctor kid.

  “Ryan.” He helped her tie Chris’s shirt around Sam’s leg, just above the bullet wound. “Does anyone have painkillers?”

  “In my purse,” Sarah called across the aisle in a breathless whisper.

  Susan held out her hand. Sarah violently shook her head, her golden blonde ponytail swishing from side to side. She dug a bottle from her purse and held it out to Susan. Her tiny frame was rigid, her motions halting but determined. “I-I don’t want to get shot.”

  Susan darted to Sarah’s side and plucked the mini bottle of Advil from her hand.

  “That’s not allowed in school.” Alex had appeared at her shoulder. “Sarah, we have a strict no drugs policy.” Sarah’s pink cheeks were flushed, her big spring green eyes stretched wide with terror. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate this. I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but I better not find anything else that diverges from school policy.”

 
Susan threw Sarah an apologetic look and retreated to Sam’s side. Sam’s eyes were streaming, and Jake looked ready to faint. Alex strolled back to the front with his eyes glued to his phone. Pressure built in her head like a thunderstorm of helpless rage. What was more important to him than terrorizing sixth graders? Susan was opening her mouth to ask when Jake crawled further under his desk and released a muffled sob. She scooted along the cold linoleum floor and took his hand in hers. “Hey, it’s going to be okay.”

  “It is not! He killed someone. He’s going to kill all of us!”

  Susan wrapped her arms around him like a human security blanket. “Try to calm down. Take deep breaths.” She kept her voice soft and reassuring, even though anxiety was twisting her stomach into knots. Jake was going to spark mass panic if he kept this up. She matched her breathing to his, a silent encouragement for him to slow down. Her heart twisted in sympathy. Jake had lived a wealthy, sheltered life. He had never had a gun aimed at him before, unlike her.

  Chris shot Jake a withering look. “Stop being a baby. The cops will come, and it’ll all be fine.” He was holding Sam’s hand between both of his. Admiration swelled in her chest at his kindness and his bravery. Chris had never had a gun to his head either, yet he was acting like a hero.

  Ryan checked Sam’s wound with a tightlipped frown. A chubby Hispanic boy slid from his seat and knelt protectively in front of her to block her from Alex’s view. Ryan unwound Chris’s shirt and pressed it to the bullet wound. Sam hissed in a breath and bit savagely down on her lip. Blood leaked onto Chris’s sky blue shirt.

  Susan averted her eyes. “What are you doing? I thought she needed that to stop the bleeding.”

  “It’s not working. It wasn’t tight enough.” Ryan repositioned Chris’s shirt to cover the bullet wound like a bandage.

  The Hispanic boy fastened his belt around Sam’s leg with a grim set of his jaw. Sam clamped down on Ryan’s backpack strap, her brown eyes wild with agony.

  “We’ll use the shirt as a bandage.” Ryan spoke so quietly she had to lean into him to hear. “The belt will act as a tourniquet. We have to restrict the blood flow.” He placed a gentle hand on her arm. “This is my friend, José.” He nodded to the brown-eyed Hispanic boy. José offered her a shy smile, the type that could wind up breaking a few hearts someday. Susan gave him a friendly wave.