NOT FOR SALE Page 17

  When the song ended, Liam whispered, "My car's unlocked, next to the gazebo."

  "Meet you there when they cut the cake."

  We stepped away half as far as our arms would reach, but didn't let go. "I still can't believe it," he said. "I can't imagine a world where this works. It's like our life is a burning building, and I'm running down the hallway toward the door, but I can't see anything in all the smoke. I can't see you."

  My stomach turned cold from the look in his eyes. "You don't dare believe it. You've always been a pessimist."

  "Works for me." He winked. "That way I get a lot of good surprises."

  * * * *

  "Keep smiling," Bridget said, clutching the knife. "It can't look like we're saying good-bye."

  "I love you." I grasped her bouquet, which I'd caught even without gouging out Ellie Sherlock's eyes. "I'll miss you more than anyone."

  "I love you, too. I'd give anything to hug you right now, but then everyone would know something was up. So I'll just fix your hair instead, okay?"

  I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Okay."

  She adjusted the tendril in front of my left ear, then touched my cheek with her soft, cool hand. "You go and love each other real good. Don't let it all be for nothing."

  The crowd started to chant. "Cake. Cake. Cake. Cake! Cake!"

  Bridget grinned and rolled her eyes. "Humans." Then she turned and flashed the knife. "Michael," she said in a singsong tone. "I got something for you."

  I slunk away into the applauding crowd.

  My getaway bag was hidden in the bushes near the empty gazebo at the far end of the parking lot, where Liam's car sat empty. I opened the trunk, which already held his own bag.

  But where was he? I stared into the patch of dark woods between the parking lot and the pavilion. Maybe the dancing had tired him out, and he was walking slower than usual.

  But the prickling of my spine made me reach into the trunk for the tire iron.

  In the distance, the cake music cut off, replaced by laughing and clapping. Michael must've smashed cake into Bridget's face, or vice versa. It's not like they were going to eat it—Bridget said that to a vampire, baked goods taste like sand. But their parents insisted on cake, and even vampire couples had to bow to family wishes.

  When the laughter died out, I heard a thump, then another, from the woods behind me. The thumps mixed with voices and soft grunts. Then came the sound of breaking glass.

  Holding the tire iron tight, I slipped my feet out of my high heels and crept into the trees, ordering myself not to whimper if I stepped on something sharp.

  Way off at the pavilion, a drum rolled, and the children chanted Michael's name.

  A piece of wood snapped near me, loud as a bullet.

  Then came Gavin's laughter. "Liam, look what you did, boy-o. Your big fat head broke the tree."

  Billy Mallory, Gavin's cousin, joined in. "What'd that tree ever do to you, gimp?"

  Fear moved my feet faster, but dread kept them stealthy. My hands grew sweaty around the tire iron, and I desperately wished for a vampire's night vision.

  Just before I came to the clearing, I heard a third voice say, "Shit, Gavin, I think you killed him."

  I sucked in a hard gasp, then covered my mouth.

  "Nah, he's still breathing," Gavin said. "Billy, what'd you do with my beer?"

  Billy cackled. "I gave it to Liam, upside his head, remember?"

  "Asshole. I wasn't done drinking it."

  "Guys, I'm serious." The third voice, which I now recognized as Owen Mack's, shook as he spoke. "He's in real bad shape."

  I reached the edge of the clearing to see the three twenty- year-olds hunched over a body that lay limp as a bag of laundry. Rage and sorrow rushed up my throat, wanting to burst out in a scream.

  Gavin fished in his pocket. "Here, let's try this." He tossed something onto the ground next to Liam.

  Owen picked it up. "Who's Terrell James and why do you have his YMCA card?"

  "I don't have it. Liam has it, because he picked Terrell's pocket at the mall. Terrell tracked him down, beat him up, and took back his wallet. Some stuff fell out."

  "So when they find Liam's body," Billy said, "they'll think Terrell did it. Good story."

  "Yeah. Cops hate blacks even more than they hate Travellers."

  "But what if Liam wakes up?" Owen said.

  His back to me, Gavin picked up a stone twice the size of his fist and took a step toward Liam. "We'll just have to make sure he don't."

  I didn't think. I flew out of the shadows and swung the tire iron at Gavin's head.

  He shifted his weight in time to keep me from being a murderer myself. The iron hit his shoulder.

  Gavin yelped and spun, grabbing the end of the tire iron and hurling it to the side. I didn't let go, so I swung with it, catching my foot in the hem of my dress. My forehead struck something hard. I crumpled to my knees, the world tumbling over and over.

  "Cass? Oh my God, did I hurt you?" Gavin knelt by my side.

  "Don't touch me!" I swung the tire iron blindly, hitting him in a soft place and making him grunt.

  "Gavin, let's run," Billy shouted. "I got my car."

  "Cass, I swear," Gavin said. "I didn't mean to hurt him. I just wanted to scare him into leaving you."

  "Shut up and go get help." I swiped my forehead and saw blood on my fingertips. "Now!"

  Owen grabbed Gavin's shoulder. "Come on!"

  Gavin kept babbling. "Cass, it wasn't even my idea. It was Brendan's."

  The clearing went quiet. Billy and Owen started to back away. We all stared at Gavin as his face turned plaster-pale.

  "Boy, you are so dead now," Billy whispered. "If he ever finds out you told—"

  "I'm sorry," Gavin said to me, lurching to his feet.

  They ran. My hands curled into fists as I realized they were headed for the parking lot, not the pavilion.

  "You chickenshits!" I screamed. "Get back here and help me!"

  I crawled over to Liam, who lay half on his back, his legs twisted at a crooked angle. Blood ran from his mouth, nose, and ears, pooling in a puddle that soaked his golden hair.

  "Liam ..." I kissed his forehead, then forced myself to my feet. "I swear I'll be back. Don't leave me, okay? Don't you dare leave me!"

  Maybe it was the dizziness, or wishful thinking, but I thought I saw his lips move. Whether it was real or not, it was all I needed.

  I ran, then staggered, then crawled toward the pavilion. I tried to scream, but my weak cries were drowned out by the music.

  "Cassie!"

  Bridget's high-heeled pumps appeared in front of my eyes. Then her hands, holding my shoulders, giving me strength to lift my chin.

  "Help . . . Liam."

  "What's wrong? Where is he?"

  I couldn't remember. How far had I come? It seemed like miles. "Woods." I coughed out the most important word. "Bleeding." They could follow the scent.

  "We'll find him." Michael's voice was calm, in control. "Come on, Bridget."

  I felt my grandmother's embrace and smelled her sharp perfume. As the darkness swallowed me whole, I prayed I'd see Liam again alive. I prayed someone would catch Gavin and make him pay.

  I prayed I wasn't too late.

  * * * *

  My ears woke before my eyes, but I couldn't make out any of the words around me. Then I realized I was surrounded by older folks whispering in Cant. They always complain that the young people can't speak it, but they use it all the time when they don't want us to understand.

  I twitched my fingers and found I was lying under a fleece blanket on a thin mattress. A warm breeze blew over my face, and I heard a curtain scraping against an aluminum window frame above me. They must have carried me into an RV brought by one of the guests.

  They stopped whispering, maybe because I'd moved. I tried to speak Liam's name, but my tongue was too dry.

  Then, in the distance, I heard Martin Finnegan play alone. The fiddle's keening cry sliced t
hrough my mind's fog as I recognized the mournful opening notes of "Danny Boy."

  My heart thudded to a halt.

  They didn't play "Danny Boy" at weddings. The last time I'd heard it was at my daddy's wake.

  Liam was dead.

  My lips formed the word my mind was screaming, but my throat couldn't bring it to life. So it echoed around my head, louder and louder with every bounce. NO.

  "She's awake," Nana whispered in English.

  I reached out for the only thing I wanted. "Liam . . ."

  "Shh." She stroked my hair, pulling on the bobby pins. "You did everything you could."

  I clutched the blanket, wishing my hands were wrapped around his murderers' necks. "It was Gavin and Billy and Owen."

  Nana gave a deep sigh. "I thought it might be those boys. They disappeared same time as Liam. I'll tell Donal, and he'll send someone to find them."

  My great-uncle would have them in his hands by the end of the weekend. Maybe even the end of the night. For killing one of their own, the three boys would probably be banished— a fate worse than death to most Travellers.

  But it was a fate I'd wanted, if it meant getting to be with Liam.

  I thought of his vision of our lives as a burning building. He'd never seen me standing at the door. Instead he'd fallen to the flames and smoke.

  At that moment, I thought I'd fall, too, choking and burning, never to rise from the ashes. What was left in this building, anyway? A stepfather who'd wanted me to marry a murderer?

  I clutched Nana's hand. "Gavin said Brendan told him to do it."

  She gasped, and her fingers spasmed inside mine. "No." She shook her head so hard, I thought her dangly gold earrings would pop off.

  "That's what he told me."

  "Liar," she hissed.

  I let go, stunned. Did she mean me or Gavin? Either way, if everyone else thought the way she did, then Brendan would never meet justice.

  I turned away from her, facing the wall and tugging the blanket up tight under my chin. At that moment, I felt something I'd never felt in my entire life.

  Alone.

  * * * *

  My eyes slammed open to see the bright red numbers on my clock flash to 2:00. I remembered coming home and falling into bed, praying I'd dream of Liam's face, tonight and forever.

  I was back in my room, but not alone.

  "Nana?" I whispered.

  "Shh." A pale figure knelt beside my bed. His blond hair glowed in the moonlight.

  It was exactly the dream I'd prayed for. Thank you, God, for small kindnesses. I opened my mouth to speak Liam's name.

  But quick as a magician, he placed his finger against my lips. "Don't speak. Don't move. Everything depends on it."

  Confusion paralyzed my muscles. I didn't understand why instinct told me to obey him without question.

  Then I realized why. This was no dream.

  And Liam's hand no longer trembled.

  "It's me," he said in the softest whisper. "It's still me."

  My breath quickened, and a shiver worked its way up my spine until my shoulders shook. A tear slipped out of my left eye, dripping over the bridge of my nose. Bridget had saved him the only way she could.

  He wiped my tear away. "Fear not, Mary Cassidy."

  In an instant, my sorrow flipped to joy. Alive or undead, it was still Liam.

  I narrowed my eyes. "I may be a virgin Mary, but you sure as heck ain't no angel Gabriel."

  "I told you to shhh." He pressed his finger to my lips again.

  I kissed it, holding his gaze. "Make me shhh."

  His eyelids went heavy, and he leaned in, so slowly I moaned.

  He stopped. "You know what I am now?"

  "You're in this world. That's all that counts."

  His eyes opened wide, then crinkled at the edges. "I was wrong, Cass. We are too good to be true."

  "Luckily we don't give two shits about the truth." I placed my hand over his heart, which beat as strong as when he was alive. Then I looped my fingers into his shirt collar, giving it a tug. "Kiss me."

  "It could be dangerous."

  "Good."

  "Not we-might-get-arrested dangerous. More like, I-might-chomp-your-tongue-off dangerous. If I get thirsty."

  I touched his cheek. "You're warm. You're not thirsty."

  "I drank before I came here. But I'm so young, I could be starving any second."

  "Then either kiss me or go away. I hate when you tease."

  He leaned in close again. "Liar."

  "Thief."

  He brushed his lips against mine, soft as a wish.

  "Get away from her," growled a commanding voice, "before I tear your damn fool head off."

  Liam put his hands up and slowly leaned away from me, revealing my cousin Michael silhouetted in the doorway. The light flashed on, then off, then on again.

  "Are you psycho?" Michael yanked Liam to his feet. "You want to get staked your first night undead?"

  "I had to see her."

  "And now you have." He dragged Liam toward the door. "For the last time."

  I sat up. "Where are you taking him?"

  "Away from humans."

  I leaped out of bed and followed them into the hallway. "Wait!"

  Michael stopped short, and they turned to me. Liam's gaze dropped to my thighs. I realized how short my sleep shirt was.

  I put my hands on my hips, hiking the shirt higher. "He's still my fiancé."

  Michael's eyes went cold, his scowl made fiercer by the jagged black scar across his right cheek and the bridge of his nose.

  "You can't marry a vampire." His voice was flat and patronizing, like he'd said, "You can't milk a frog."

  "Michael's right." Nana's voice came from behind me. I turned to see her in her flannel nightgown. "Liam can't grow old with you. He can't even go outside during the day." She raised her palms. "Most of all, he can't give you children."

  Reality slammed me, almost knocking me off my feet.

  Liam and I stared at each other. His life on earth had just been doubled, but his future with me had been cut to nothing.

  Yet I loved him not one tiny bit less, and needed our Now more than ever.

  "Fine," I said. "I won't get married."

  My grandmother's face darkened like a storm cloud. "Go to your room. Michael—take that boy home."

  "You got it, Aunt Kate." Before I could take a step toward Liam, my cousin had dragged him down the stairs toward the front door.

  I ran to my bedroom window and pushed aside the curtain.

  Nana entered behind me. "Don't you ever say a thing like that. Not get married. You want to give your grandmother a heart attack?"

  Michael and Liam crossed the lawn. Even as he walked sideways to keep my window in sight, Liam's steps were sure and straight, the way they'd never been in life.

  "Plenty of women stay single," I told her.

  "Oh my." She sank onto my bed, like she was feeling faint. "I told your mama not to send you to public school. I knew it'd put crazy ideas into that head of yours."

  "My head is fine." I rubbed my temple, then dropped my hand quickly before she started up again, worrying I had a concussion.

  "Being single is fine for those depraved country folk, but not for Travellers. Don't you even care what you are?"

  "What I am is in love with Liam, and sick of this life. I'm going to college. How can I do that with babies running all around?"

  "Your mama will help you take care of them. And your husband, whoever he ends up being."

  "You mean whoever Brendan sets me up with. What if my husband doesn't want me to go to college? Or what if he wants me to run cons with him when I should be studying? Most people can't live that double life—they want it one way or the other, inside or out. But Liam and I could've done it." I watched Michael shove him into the front seat of the car. "Maybe we still can."

  "Mary Cassidy O'Riley." For once, my grandmother spoke my full name gently. "Whatever you decide, I will always love you."r />
  My eyes blurred with tears.

  "But if you leave us, I'll mourn you. I'll mourn like you were six feet under ground." She went to the door. "We all will."

  I watched Michael drive away, with Liam's pale face turned my way until they were out of sight. Then I slouched back over to the bed, wanting to do nothing but lie down and cry the rest of the night away.