Death Collectors: Ember Part 8

"Did you do that before or after your dad disappeared?"

"After."

She reddens with frustration. "You know, I find it highly suspicious that you were at a party Laden Miller attended and then he disappeared. And there were witnesses that said they saw you peeling off in your car right after Laden drove away with another girl."

Witnesses? "My mom has a strict curfew," I lie, but not very well.

She sifts through the notepad. "Actually, if I read the note in the file right, your mother's a pretty inactive parent. In fact, she gave up her custody of you and sent you to live with your father when you were four."

"Well, she still likes me home at a certain time." I make an effort not to fidget, or she'll use it against me.

Her eyes scrutinize me. "Where were you between the hours of two to four a.m. on Sat.u.r.day?"

Cras.h.i.+ng into a lake, drawing crazy notes on my wall, blacking out. s.h.i.+t! "I was with Asher Morgan all night."

Her eyebrows arch. "And he is?"

"A friend of mine." I'm digging myself a giant, coffin-sized hole.

Thankfully, the lunch bell rings. She writes Asher Morgan down at the top of the notebook and then tucks it in her pocket. Then she hands me her card. "We'll be in touch."

I take the card, stuff it into my back pocket, and leave the office, not looking back.

Chapter 7.

Everyone in the school is calling Laden's disappearance the Angel of Death Killing. The rumor spread about the detective interrogating me. It's like I've relapsed back to three years ago, right after my dad vanished. The halls are fluttering with whispers of "Freak," Psychopath," and "Murderer." But I walk with my head held high. A little gossip and dirty looks is nothing compared to being plagued by death every day.

Raven still hasn't shown up at school and she hasn't called or replied to any of my texts, so I go to the cafeteria solo, crossing my fingers I'll make it out alive. I'm waiting in line, when Mackenzie Baker comes brus.h.i.+ng by, knocks her shoulder into mine, and nearly breaks a high heel trying to recover her balance. Ropes bind her wrist and mouth. Darkness devours her. Come out, come out, wherever you are. It's a game and Mackenzie loses, lost in a sea of blood. I've seen her death before and it never gets easier.

"You better watch it," she says with edginess in her tone.

I stare at her expressionlessly and don't utter a word. She flips her hair and quickly returns to the conversation with her cl.u.s.ter of friends as they head for the tables.

"So was I right?" The soft touch of Cameron's voice sends a rush of adrenaline through my body.

I step back and elongate the distance between us. "Were you right about what?"

"About your poem," he says with a charming smile.

"You think I'm in pain?" I move forward with the movement of the line.

"I think your heart carries a lot of pain." He steps forward. "But that you hide it, just like you hide a lot of things."

He's striking a nerve. "Isn't everyone hiding something?" I ask.

"Now those are the words of a true writer." He reaches behind me, missing my arm by an inch, and grabs a tray. "But the question is, what are you hiding, Ember?"

There's accusation in his tone-he's heard the rumors. "Bodies in the bas.e.m.e.nt of my house and a burner full of ashes," I say darkly.

He's unfazed. "Weird, because that's the same thing I have in my bas.e.m.e.nt."

I collect a tray. "I'd be happy that we share something in common, but we both know that neither of our houses have bas.e.m.e.nts."

"Yep, but they have attics," he says and it no longer sounds like he's joking. "And attics are excellent places to hide bodies too."

I pick up an apple and slide my tray down, unsure what to say.

He laughs. "Relax, I'm just kidding."

I offer him a small smile, and then pull a face at the food the lunch lady slops on my tray. Raven, where are you? I need my McDonald's.

"I think they forgot to kill it first." Cameron pulls a revolted face. "It looks like it's still moving."

"What? Don't they have mystery surprise Monday in New York?" I loosen up a little, grab a bottle of water, and pick up my tray. My eyes browse the room lined with tables separated by cliques and social status. There's a lot of chattering and wandering eyes at the accused killer standing in the center of the room. Who am I even looking for? I spot Asher in the far corner table sitting with the self-proclaimed artists of the school.

Asher's eyes find mine and light up. But then he notices Cameron standing next to me and he glares. Cameron returns the glare with equal animosity.

"I thought you said you didn't know him?" I ask Cameron with cynicism.

He blinks the glare away and smiles politely. "I don't know him. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got places to be." He struts off to Mackenzie's corner table and immediately starts flirting with her.

"Hot and cold much," I mumble.

Asher waves me over. I hesitate, not at him, but at the rest of the people at the table who are just as afraid of me as Mackenzie is. But then Asher smiles and my doubting thoughts surrender.

I take a seat at the table and everyone gives me subtle nods, except for Farrah Taverson, who is the only girl at the table. And who dated Laden Miller up until a few weeks ago. She scowls at me, gathers her medieval era dress, and leaves the table.

"You looked like you needed help," Asher whispers in my ear.

I stir the slosh on my tray. "I don't usually eat in the cafeteria, especially without Raven."

"She's still not here?" he asks and I shake my head, frowning. He takes a bite of his sandwich. "Do you know that guy you were standing by?" He licks a dab of mayo from his lip. I imagine licking it off him, along with many other things.

"Ember." His voice is low. "Are you okay?" His gaze travels to my forehead. "Did you go to the hospital after the accident?"

"Yeah," I lie. "And I'm fine. No broken bones. No concussion. I'm like a walking miracle."

"What about your car?" he asks with concern.

My mood sinks lower. "That's definitely a goner."

"And how about... how are you doing with what everyone else is saying?"

I shrug. "It's not the first time they've wanted to burn me at the stake."

He takes another bite of his sandwich and changes the subject. "So you never answered my question."

I dare a bite of my own food and it tastes as bad as it looks. "About what?" I casually put a napkin to my mouth and gag out the slosh into it.

"About the guy you were with just now?"

"That's Cameron." I ball the napkin up and set in on the corner of my tray. "He's the other new guy here and coincidently, he's also from New York."

"That's weird." His jaw tightens and he throws the rest of his sandwich into his bag. "Would you do me a favor?" He stands up and collects his garbage. "Would you show me around a little bit?"

"Sure. But I'm surprised no one else has, especially Mackenzie," I say. "She seems to have made it her abiding duty to show Cameron more than he probably needs to see."

He laughs and we head across the cafeteria toward the trash cans. "I don't think I'm really Mackenzie's type."

I eye his goth/emo style. He's not her type, but he's still beautiful, especially his eyes. "She may not admit you're her type, but trust me, deep down I'm sure she thinks about you."

He throws his garbage into the trash, but holds onto a mini bag of Doritos. "And what about you? What's your type?"

I dump my tray into the garbage and bite at my lip. "I don't have a type."

We walk for the exit door, side-by-side, and at that moment, everyone in the cafeteria doesn't exist. We are the only two people in this world where, for a split second, death doesn't prevail. Again, I crave to touch him, feel every inch of him, and understand what he's thinking.

He hands me the bag of chips, but I shake my head. "No, thanks. I'm okay."

"You didn't eat anything. Well, you did, but you spit it out," he says. My mouth waters as I eye the bag of chips and he laughs. "Just take them."

So I do and eat them as we roam up and down the halls. I explain where everything is-who everyone is. The two basic factors that everyone in high school needs to know to survive. After I've given him the grand tour, we stop in the fairly empty quad centered in the school. A large circle of pillars form the walls and there are benches in the middle.

"I used your name this morning," I say quietly. "When a cop brought me in for questioning." He appears mystified so I add, "Questioning for Laden's disappearance."

"I knew what you were talking about," he says, leaning against a pillar. "I was just wondering why you said it so guilty. I know you were with me."

"For part of the time," I clarify. "You dropped me off around three and she wanted to know where I was between the hours of two and four."

He gets this funny look on his face, like he might laugh. "So where were you for the extra hour? Or should I say we."

"You don't have to cover for me," I tell him. "Your name just slipped out because it seemed a lot better than telling her I was up in my room with a friend that was trashed out of her mind. And I've been through this before and excuses like that don't fly."

"When your dad disappeared?"

"How do you know about that?"

His face is guarded. "People like to talk a lot around here, I've noticed."

I shy away. "I'm sorry. I'll go find the detective and tell her the truth." I turn for the office, but he blocks my path.

"Last night was one of the best nights of my life," he starts. "I have never made out so long before. And the lake was beautiful, crystal clear with a bright moon setting. And Ember... she is the most amazing kisser."

"Yeah, I think you took it one step too far on the last sentence." I stifle a smile. "You might want to leave that part out."

He challenges me with a c.o.c.k of his eyebrow. "Or find it out for myself."

"You seriously don't have to cover for me." My phone rings inside my bag, but I ignore it. "I can figure out something else."

"It's fine," he insists. "I know you didn't do it."

There are no words to express my grat.i.tude. "Thanks. I owe you big time."

He fiddles with his eyebrow ring, looping the tip of his pinkie through it then pulling it out. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and suddenly he looks nervous. "Okay, so I have to ask you something. And feel free to be completely honest with me."

"Okay..." I wait for the moment where he tells me he was kidding and he really thinks I'm a killer.

"Hypothetically, if I were to ask you on a date, what would you say?" he asks.

My heart erupts in my chest. "Well, if we were only speaking hypothetically, I'd say yes."

The corners of his mouth quirk. "And if I wasn't speaking hypothetically."

"Then I'd say I'd have to think about it." I've been spending way too much time watching Raven seduce guys.

He bites his bottom lip and reaches for my messenger bag. Before I can react, he extracts my cell phone. He punches a few b.u.t.tons and hands me the phone. We stare at each other and I picture my lips pressed to his, tasting him thoroughly. He leans in like he might kiss me, then the bell rings and students pour into the quad.

He winks and backs away. "Think about it and let me know when the hypothetical can become a reality," he says before vanis.h.i.+ng into the crowd.

It's probably the closest I've ever come to a perfect moment. And I'm actually happy. My happiness elates when I flick the screen on. He's added his phone number to my contacts.

When I look up, the quad is profoundly occupied with people standing along the wall, sitting on the benches, talking, laughing, yelling. With my shoulders slouched, I take a deep breath before carefully making my way toward the hall.

Someone slams me from behind. I want to die. Piercing. Heartache. An eternity of self-loathing finally reaching its end.

I dodge to the side, but the crowd thickens. I'm b.u.mped and prodded from all directions. My bag slips from my shoulder and falls to the floor. I scramble to pick it up. Death. Everywhere.

A thick-necked guy gives me a hard shove. "Watch it, killer."

I elbow the nearest person, trying to make room. Bound, gagged, I see where you're hiding, blonde hair, blue eyes. I'm not going to hurt you. I gasp.

Mackenzie's eyes bulge with terror. "What's the matter with you? Are you having, like, an episode or something?"

I s.n.a.t.c.h my bag, weave through the nearest gap, and burst out of the front door. The sunlight sparkles on my skin and I breathe in the fresh air. The bell rings and I cut across the gra.s.s and round the corner.

Raven is leaning against the side entrance. A guy with greasy hair and sideburns leans over her with his hands braced on the wall. Her eyes are locked on the guy like she is a love-struck puppy. He glances in my direction and I catch sight of the X on his eye-the sleazebag from the other night.

"What are you doing?" I hurry toward her.

Raven's eyes are red and swollen and her mascara is smudged. "I'm not doing anything. Now go away."