Part 18 (2/2)

My voice cracked and I paused, pus.h.i.+ng my hair behind my ear as I tried to compose myself. When my questions bounced back to me, they were jumbled and confused, the words laying themselves on top of each other, each question repeating itself and merging with the next into incoherent mush. Just like the way I felt.

”Where are you?” I heard finally, my voice fading as it bounced off the walls of the silo. ”Where are you?”

Tired, I leaned against the metal railing, empty of questions, of answers, of energy to even ask any more, when I heard a voice. Not from the echo, but from behind me.

”I'm right here.”

My body grew rigid as his cold breath tickled my ear. I spun around. ”Dante?”

I saw the cuff of his s.h.i.+rt first, followed by the collar, the lock of hair dangling by his chin, the pen tucked behind his ear. ”You're here,” I said, gazing at the stubble on his cheek, at his thin lips as he said, ”I'm sorry it took so long.”

”You left me those notes,” I said, my eyes darting around us to make sure no one was watching.

Dante nodded. ”I've been trying to reach you for weeks,” he said. ”But I haven't been able to find you alone.”

I bit my lip, feeling suddenly guilty. ”That night in the cemetery. You never finished your sentence.”

Dante was silent for a minute. ”I wish I could tell you what I'm doing,” he said. ”But I can't. I can't put you in danger.”

I stood back. ”Okay,” I said slowly. ”But what do you mean? Are you saying you had been to the cemetery before?”

Before he could answer, a voice called out to me from the distance. ”Renee?”

I jolted at the sound of my name. Dante spun around, his eyes darting around the waterfront.

Noah, I thought. Not sure what to do, I turned to Dante. ”He wasn't supposed to meet me today,” I said quickly.

”Who?” Dante said, narrowing his eyes.

”A Monitor. You have to go,” I said, and glanced over my shoulder. From across the street, Noah waved at me, but I didn't wave back. ”I'm going to go and distract him,” I said, taking Dante's hand. Above us the seagulls cried as they wove around each other.

”Wait,” Dante said, holding my wrist. ”Tell me you believe me. That you believe I would never hurt you or anyone else.”

”I do,” I said, my eyes darting to Noah. If he found Dante, he would tell the professors, and it would all be over.

”Say it out loud,” Dante said, his brown eyes pleading with me. ”Please.”

”I believe you,” I said, confused. ”You would never hurt me or anyone else.”

A look of relief pa.s.sed over his face, and he loosened his grip on my arm. ”I love you,” he said. ”Now go.”

Slipping away from the cold swirl of Dante, I ran to Noah. ”What are you doing here?” I said, blocking his path.

”I got out of cla.s.s early and came to find you,” he said, a little perplexed. ”Are you okay? You're acting kind of nervous.”

”I'm fine,” I said, staring at the reflection of the silos in Noah's gla.s.ses, as Dante walked down the wharf, keeping his head lowered.

Noah must have seen him too, because he said, ”Who was that?”

”Who?”

”That guy you were talking to.”

”Oh, he was just a stranger asking me for directions.”

Noah stepped back. ”You're lying. I saw the way you looked at him. You looked upset.”

I followed his gaze down the sidewalk, where Dante was disappearing into a crowd. ”I can feel him,” Noah said, squinting. ”He's an-an-”

Undead, I thought, though Noah never finished his sentence. Instead, he turned to me. ”It's him, isn't it,” he said in disbelief. ”Your boyfriend is an Undead.”

”No,” I said, shaking my head. ”He's just a friend.”

Noah backed away from me. ”That's why you never talk about him. That's your big secret?”

”No-” I started to say, but he cut me off.

”How could you not tell me?”

”Tell you what?” I said, going rigid. ”It's not your life, it's mine. You have a girlfriend, remember?”

”Don't bring Clementine into this,” he said, his voice so firm it was unfamiliar.

”Why not? You're with me every day. Does she know? Is that why she's so rude to me?”

”I know you don't like her, but Clementine would never date an Undead while training to be a Monitor. It's not right,” he said, his voice low.

I stepped away from him in disbelief. ”So now Clementine is my moral standard? What does she know about love? About loss? What do you know about it?”

Noah seemed to shrink back at my words, and I immediately felt guilty for hurting him. ”She had to bury her brother last summer. He was an Undead. Her father made her do it. She hasn't told anyone for the same reasons you haven't told anyone about your secret, I'm guessing. Though her decision was far different than yours.”

July thirtieth, I thought, remembering what Anya had said to Clementine in the hallway earlier this year. That's what she'd been referring to. My eyes wandered from the waterfront to Noah, but when I looked up at him he was already gone.

When I returned to my room that night it was all I could do to lie in bed with the blankets off and windows open, letting the cold air seep in, as if it were Dante's presence wrapping itself around me. I needed something to remind me of him; to bring me back to him. So I did the next best thing. I called Eleanor.

”You sound depressed,” she said, after I had told her everything. ”Maybe you should see a doctor.”

Eleanor's suggestion caught me off guard. ”What? I'm not depressed,” I said, as I curled up in an armchair by the window, watching the streetlamps flicker to life as night fell over the courtyard.

”You've been having visions. Hallucinations. And you're seeing another guy? What about Dante? He's your soul mate.”

”Noah is just a friend.” I whispered so Clementine wouldn't hear.

Eleanor didn't say anything for a long time. Through the walls, I could hear Clementine yell something, her tone angry. Maybe she was on the phone with Noah.

”I've been going to therapy, and it's really helping me...understand myself,” Eleanor said. ”And understanding myself helps me control myself.”

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