Part 31 (2/2)

”But when he's here, he's made of flesh and blood. Whatever form he takes, he is flesh. And blood.”

”Even so, I don't think it's as simple as that.”

His shoulders sagged a bit. ”I know.” He glanced down at my arm. ”Do you know how much time you have?”

”No. Not exactly. A little over a week, maybe.”

”What about Meredith? Wouldn't she have the same amount of time?”

I thought back to the few days I'd spent in Cole's apartment, just before he took me underground. By the time we left, none of the other band members were on the Surface. They'd all been ready with their Forfeits. ”She left before me. That means she probably Returned before me.”

”And the Tunnels will come for her first.” Jack gave a grunt of frustration.

Something hit me right then, and a split second later I made sure the burst of intuition didn't show on my face. Even if Will returned with Mary, and even if she did know how to kill Cole, I had no idea if my debt would be destroyed as well. What if the Tunnels were coming for me no matter what?

Jack looked like he was about to ask me what was wrong, so I brought his face to mine again.

For the first time in a hundred years, Jack's lips were against mine in a real kiss. He was mine again, and in that moment, I made a decision.

I had to find a way to stay. And I wouldn't stop searching for a loophole to my fate, until the moment the Tunnels dragged me away.

The next morning, Jack called and said Will was having trouble coaxing Meredith away from the cabin. He wanted to pick me up and take me to her.

”I can't leave right now,” I said, cradling the phone.

”Why?”

”The election's tomorrow. I can't leave my family. I can't risk these last moments. I promised myself I would prepare them.”

He was quiet.

”I don't mean tell them I'm leaving. But last time I disappeared in the middle of a fight with my dad. I can't leave him like that again.”

”It's okay, Becks. I'll go, and I will bring her back, even if I have to force her.”

I grimaced, but I knew he was telling the truth.

I promised Jack I'd do as much research on the internet as I could while they were gone, but there were only so many ways I could type ”how to avoid the Tunnels” into the search engine.

As my days dwindled, it was like I was living two lives. The hopeful side of me raced around, frantic to find an answer, and the reasonable part of me had settled into savoring the last moments with my family.

Trying to get alone time with my dad would be impossible until after the election, so I contacted Percy Jones and did whatever task he told me to do-pa.s.sing out flyers, making phone calls-knowing the effort would eventually get back to my dad.

Cole was giving me s.p.a.ce. I was sure he thought I was at the tipping point. He had left me alone to contemplate my future. He didn't know Jack had come back. If he did, he would've been at my window, whether he promised to leave me alone or not.

After two long days, Jack called me and said he and Will were on their way home.

My dad won by a wide margin, so when the polls closed, there was no question.

His campaign held the victory party at the Silver Lodge Hotel near the ski resort, and I put on the same black dress I'd worn to the Christmas Dance, and I cheered at the right times and hit the balloons as they fell from the net in the ceiling.

I don't know how I missed it, but I did. Even as Percy was making the announcement in the microphone, introducing the victory band, I still didn't quite get it. Even as the last of the balloons fell lazily to the floor, and the older supporters made way for the younger ones, I still didn't get it.

The Dead Elvises were about to play at my father's victory party. Surprise. I was standing there, in the center of the crowd, frozen.

One of the campaign contributors next to me said loudly to her friend, ”Percy did it. He got the band to play!”

There was only one reason they'd play a stodgy election party, and it wasn't because of Percy. They were here for me. They took the stage one by one. Cole was the final one out, his entrance delayed for impact. The entire band believed what Cole believed: that I would lead them to the throne in the Everneath.

Maxwell backed Cole up, and fans who I'm sure couldn't give a rat's a.s.s about politics swarmed the dance floor.

My dad had done it. He'd shown everyone he was the hip answer to our town's stagnant tourist industry. The Dead Elvises were playing his party. Op-ed piece be d.a.m.ned.

But this time I was not a starstruck fan. When the band ratcheted up the energy, I could see the traces of emotion from the people on the dance floor hanging in the air like a buffet.

As the band finished one song and began another, Cole's voice boomed over the crowd.

”This one's for the mayor's daughter.” Cole used the neck of his guitar to point toward me from the stage.

A few attendees turned their heads in my direction, and I automatically backed up until I hit the wall.

Cole began to pick out a slower, discordant melody. One that almost begged for resolution. As he played, some of the lighter shades of emotions-the pleasant ones that you'd find at a victory party-wafted through the air, as if attracted to the sounds of his guitar. Cole and the band were sampling from every single person there.

The colors that sought his guitar were soft, gentle hues, and as they gathered strength above Cole they began releasing droplets, like a storm cloud's first hints of rain. The droplets danced and swayed above him and his guitar, as if they were obeying the instrument.

I glanced around at the faces in the audience. It was obvious none of them saw the colors as I saw them.

Looking back at Cole, I realized the drops were acc.u.mulating on the guitar. He made sure I was watching as he tipped his head back and inhaled deeply, sucking in much of the electric mist surrounding him.

Seeing him gorge himself on stolen emotions made me realize I was still so empty. I felt the hunger, so I started toward the exits to get away, but then something changed. Something was pulling me back. Pulling me down. My eyes lost focus, and the noise from the band was replaced by a ringing sound in my ears.

A group of campaign contributors saw that I was leaving. One of the women pulled me to her, saying she wanted to introduce the mayor's daughter around.

My heart was beating fast. Too fast, as if the blood were spilling out of me and it couldn't keep up. As the strangers shook my hand, their faces blurred together. Somebody was asking me about college but I couldn't hear above the m.u.f.fled ringing in my ears.

”Are you okay, dear?” the woman who had dragged me over asked.

”Um... I'm fine. I just...” I noticed a fog above me, larger and denser than the one from the Christmas Dance. Cole was directing it. But the energy cloud wasn't from other people ... it was from me. The entire band was feeding off me.

Everything was blurry. I tried to reach my hand up to my head, but it wasn't obeying me. As I looked up, I lost my bearings. I stepped backward to try to balance, but I'd really stepped forward, and the red carpet came rus.h.i.+ng at my face. Just as I expected to slam into the floor, two arms caught me around my waist.

”Okay, Becks. You're okay. Stay with me.” Jack's voice in my ear. Then louder, ”She's just a little hypoglycemic.”

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