Sweet Desire, Wicked Fate Page 22

  “I know you don’t.” He looked years older in the light reflecting from their flashlights off the dirty white walls. “Believe me, neither do I.”

  Angry as she was, Jaden could sense his pain.

  “Jade, I just don’t want to ruin the chances of all of us surviving this.”

  Without looking back at her mother and sister Jaden walked over to him. She felt as if the blue threads embedded in the salt were pulling free from the cavern walls and wrapping around her neck, choking her. “Okay. But we’re coming back for them tomorrow.”

  Briz bent down to kiss her, but she stepped back.

  “Or I’ll come back by myself if I have to!”

  “We’ll get them.”

  CHAPTER 38

  On the boat ride back to the triplets, Jaden should have felt relief at finding the journals. She should have felt encouraged at being a step closer to getting out of their mess. Instead she felt as if the ability to ever be happy again had been ripped out of her. She couldn’t stop thinking about her family. Her ribcage constricted as if a manacle were tightly cinched around it, squeezing all her grief and anguish to the surface.

  When they got to the triplets’ house, Briz took Jaden’s hand to help her out of the boat. Even his touch left her feeling numb—no electric shock, no pangs of desire. The wooden walkway felt like a ship’s plank to her. She saw herself standing at the end of it, leaping off into an ocean seething with demons. Unable to tread water. Unable to save the people she loved.

  Jaden stopped. Briz turned back toward her. When his eyes met hers, she lost it. Her inevitable breakdown had arrived. The past few days of stress caught up with her. Her mind sank into a deep pit of emotional sludge. Her tears flowed like water cascading over a falls.

  Briz dropped his pack and gathered her in his arms. But that didn’t help. Jaden clutched the back of his shirt and hung on as if to stop herself from falling into a black hole of desperation.

  Her hysteria mounted. Her chest heaved. Briz held her tighter. She knew he was trying to be strong for her. Still she could feel him weeping, too. After all, they were both just kids. And kids shouldn’t have to do battle. They shouldn’t have to fight for their lives. But that’s what the next few days had in store for them. They both knew it.

  Jaden knew they weren’t the only ones in the world going through a horrific ordeal. Every time there was a war or natural disaster, children much younger than they were had to grow up in a heartbeat. Becoming orphans in a matter of seconds. Thrust into instant adulthood to fend for themselves. Jaden understood that they were on the verge of joining those kids and becoming part of a piteous global tribe, a club of child survivors.

  Now it was time for Jaden and Briz to grow up fast. To keep their families and friends alive. Maybe once they won this weird, eldritch battle, if they won, they could go back to being innocent and unaffected.

  Or maybe there was no way to go back to being a kid again once you’ve had to fight for your life.

  Briz didn’t shush her, didn’t try to calm her as she held him tightly. He let her break down. It was unavoidable. Necessary. His arms relaxed their embrace when she stopped crying and trembling, and grieving over what she had caused. For now, her nerves were calmer and her mind was a bit quieter.

  Maybe this is how sheer exhaustion feels.

  When Jaden and Briz entered the house, silence hung in the air thick as the humidity. Jaden knew the triplets and Violet had witnessed her entire breakdown through the window. Olympe, always the caregiver, led them to the kitchen and gave them cups of calming tea. Then everyone left them alone.

  When their emotions settled, Jaden let Briz do the talking. The triplets were beside themselves with excitement when they heard about the journals. Jaden realized they’d done a good job of hiding their doubts about her and Briz’s chances of success earlier that morning. When Briz started to tell them about her mom and sister being abducted and battered, Jaden left the kitchen. She felt strangled by guilt and shame. Worn out, she nestled in the chair overlooking the bayou.

  Soon they were all in the living room with her. They gathered around a table where the Professor’s journals were displayed. Violet fluttered clumsily over to them, weighed down by her injured leg. Jaden realized that the triplets had stopped burning their homemade incense that kept the mosquitoes at bay. Violet was all they needed.

  Jaden was relieved that no one tried to dissuade her when she opted out of reading Dekle’s writings. Diligently sipping her “anti Briz tonic,” she found that when there wasn’t a harrowing event occupying her thoughts, her attention immediately went back to Briz.

  Isadora picked up one of Dekle’s journals. Thumbing through the book, she read aloud.

  23rd of June 1953 ~ Dr. Whiting has asked if I could help him come up with a remedy for an epidemic of poison ivy that is spreading through the town. The fool. He hasn’t a clue. The town’s residents’ health will continue to be ‘compromised’ by my Mal Rous, until, lo and behold, I create the perfect formulas for the cures, making me appear a compassionate, caring person. I’ll ask those inane triplets to prepare the mixtures. It will give the three of them something productive to do with their lives.

  As Isadora continued reading, Jaden’s ability to focus faded. She wanted to pay attention, to help the others find an answer, but hearing what Dekle had written made him even more of a stranger to her. There was no inner sense that they were somehow connected; that he was her grandfather, or that they were related in any way other than sharing traces of Datura’s DNA. Jaden couldn’t help evaluating her own future. Even if they captured the Mal Rous and pulverized their bodies into mush, what about her? What was going to save her from becoming like them? Or him? Tuning back in to Isadora’s voice, Jaden was grateful she hadn’t heard most of what had been read.

  19th of November 1954 ~ I brought more of the Amanita muscaria mushroom tincture home for the Mal Rous. I’d developed the formula several months ago. The mixtures I brewed originally must have been milder. That mousy triplet made this batch. It was too potent. Datura could smell it in my satchel. As soon as I removed it, she snatched it from me and refused to let go, determined to open the bottle. She wouldn’t let me come near her to help. My impulsive pet broke open the bottle by biting it, so that her gums bled. When I tried to retrieve it from her, she clawed at my arm and plunged her fangs into me. She didn’t understand what she was doing, mixing her blood cells with mine. I experienced convulsions. Then a fever swept through me. Soon after, a bitter cold took hold of my flesh. When I woke the next day, my arms were covered in dried blood surrounding open sores.

  Violet told me that while I lay unconscious on my cellar floor, Talis died from drinking the entire bottle of brew. I must tell that good-for-nothing triplet not to make it again. I was wrong about the tincture. It will not make the Mal Rous stronger. Quite the opposite.

  As I posted in my earlier reports, until now they’d healed from any injuries within a few days. Even when that hunter shot Esere, he’d stayed alert, cheering on the rest of the pack as they killed the man. My studies showed that Esere’s rapid healing and recovery, his ability to regenerate, could be attributed to the properties of his newt and plant DNA. The Amanita mushroom formula is the only thing I have found that can actually end their lives.

  Elvina questioned me this morning. She saw the car in the garage and knocked on the cellar door. When there was no answer, she became worried. I have threatened her sufficiently to prevent her from trying to find a way into my lab. She says she loves me, though I doubt it.

  Tamara interrupted Isadora and began reading from a different volume. Jaden had a feeling that the words wouldn’t bother Tamara, however upsetting they might be to everyone else.

  10th of December 1958 ~ When I go to town with the Mal Rous to observe them, I enjoy breathing in the scent of blood. Like a coppery, metallic liqueur, it causes me to salivate. Now I take along hunks of raw meat to chew on as I watch in awe.

  Jaden sighed shakil
y. At least I’m not like that, she thought. Not yet. She shivered as Tamara kept reading.

  30th of December 1958 ~ I forced myself on Elvina again last night. I had to have her. I wouldn’t stand for her refusing me—not that she had any choice in the matter. As before, she cried, begging me to stop. Afterwards, I left her sobbing while I went down to the kitchen and devoured a large serving of raw meat. When my darling Mal Rous returned, I sat in the cellar with them listening to music on the phonograph, quite satisfied.

  All the content in the journals was disturbing, but these words haunted Jaden. Dekle’s declarations of excitement at assaulting Elvina made her wonder—was her father conceived on such a night? She didn’t want to become like the Professor, but she felt as if everyone in the room knew that the transformation was already happening. Violet had described a lot of this before. It hadn’t meant as much to Jaden when it was about some dead madman she’d never known. Now it felt as if it was about her.

  The triplets, Briz, and Violet decided that all further reading would be done in silence. As the five of them scoured the Professor’s books for the mushroom formula, the quiet pressed against Jaden’s eyelids and she drifted off. She had no idea how long she’d been asleep when Olympe’s voice woke her.

  “Dad burn it! Why didn’t I save that there recipe?”

  “Olympe dear, that was over fifty years ago. And you only made it once.” Isadora patted her sister. “Besides, Dekle said it didn’t work, so it wasn’t important at the time.”

  Jaden watched Olympe’s reflection in the window as the woman stood up and walked toward the kitchen. Jaden was still gazing into the glass pane when a phantom image stared back at her. Olympe had returned. She set a container of licorice balm on the table next to Jaden along with another large glass of her tonic. Apparently what they were reading in the journals made them decide it would be best to keep her tanked up. She knew they were right. When she took a deep breath, Briz’s pheromones sang out to Jaden from across the room.

  So this is what my future holds. Eating raw hamburger, being sexually aggressive, finding enjoyment from acts of violence. Jaden shuddered.

  Hearing Briz’s voice, she wanted to walk over and climb into his lap, feel his skin against hers. Discreetly applying the balm to her nose and taking a gulp of her drink, she listened as he interrupted the others so that he could read aloud the last entry Professor Dekle Thatcher ever wrote.

  24th of April 1959 ~ I had only gone out for a short time. When I returned to the cellar, I tasted Elvina’s perfume in the air. HOW COULD SHE DO THIS. She knows that she is never to come into my workplace. The lock was not damaged, which means she has found my other key. She saw the Mal Rous and Violet. That is where her perfume lingered most strongly. I’ve no doubt that she will contact her trusted Dr. Whiting now. I have hastened back here to my lab. I am mixing up liquid placenta in which to store the Mal Rous. I shall hide them where no one will ever find them, and return for them as soon as I can.

  “Liquid placenta?” Briz looked up from the journal. “I bet you it was similar to perflubron.”

  Jaden and the others stared at Briz, waiting for an explanation.

  “You know, liquid air. My science teacher talked about it. It’s an oily, clear liquid that’s rich in oxygen. Pretty wild, having your lungs filled with a liquid that’s twice the density of water, and not drowning from it. Humans can only breathe it for a short time, but I guess since the Mal Rous only have a small percentage of human DNA, their insect and plant DNA allowed them to stay in it … well, for fifty years. That means Dekle discovered how to make it before anyone else. Or he befriended someone who had, and stole the formula.”

  Pressing open the pages, Briz continued to read aloud.

  I must clean out my cellar, make everyone believe that Elvina imagined it all. I am thankful I acquired a vial of the rabies virus. I will inject her with it, even if I have to tie her up to do so. Everyone will think that she has gone mad. No one will listen to her. They will pity me, and agree completely that I must send her away. It is raining now. It will be easier to bury the Mal Rous on the plantation until I have Elvina taken away and committed to an institution. I must go through my lab reports and eradicate any reference to the mushroom formula, in case tonight does not go as I have planned. If it fell into the wrong hands, my life’s work could be destroyed.

  Datura … if only our blood had never mixed. England … I miss the damp, cool air of England.

  “These are his journals!” Briz gripped the edges of the book. “All his actual experiments must be in his lab records. We have to go back and find them.”

  “He said he was getting rid of the formula.” Jaden spoke louder and more sharply than she’d intended.

  “Well, we won’t know unless we look,” Briz said. Turning away from Jaden, he studied the triplets’ faces for confirmation that he was right. “I mean, why would he even write this, telling everyone the one thing he doesn’t want them to know?”

  “Because he was a raving mad egomaniac!” Jaden’s words were biting. Was having a mini-hissy fit a good sign? Did it mean she was getting stronger, recovering—or that she was becoming more like her grandfather?

  “Does anyone have any other suggestions?” Briz asked, scowling at Jaden.

  “All right, fine.” Jaden sat up straight and scowled right back at him. “First thing tomorrow we go back to get my mom and sister out of there, and we’ll look for his records. Then I’m going to the shack to see the Mal Rous and convince them I’m their new best friend, so they won’t hurt anyone else.”

  Briz set the book down, then snatched up the remaining unread journal as if it was his enemy.

  The other four nodded at Jaden. What choice did they have? They all knew she would have to be the bait.

  CHAPTER 39

  Olympe closed the journal she’d been reading and placed it on the table. Her sisters and Briz continued thumbing through the pages of Dekle’s writings. They knew they wouldn’t find the formula, yet they still sought the answers. Giving Jaden a sidelong glance, Olympe went to the kitchen, returning moments later to hand her yet another glass of the special brew. Then without a word Olympe shuffled down the hall to her bedroom. Her sanctuary welcomed her as she closed the door behind her. If only for a brief time, Olympe’s world became her own.

  Her stepfather had always told her that she had an old soul. Well, her old soul was tired. Caring for Jaden, hunting through the journals, worrying about Hubs—she was in need of a rest.

  Through the window the late afternoon light cast a flaxen sheen over her pale reflection in the mirror. She smiled, remembering Jaden's comment the night she had arrived. Burning with fever, the girl had regarded Olympe and her sisters with awe, not repulsion. Jaden’s delirious words—“I’ve never seen angels before. You’re beautiful. Do all angels look alike?”—had charmed the three women. Besides Billy, Hubs, and their parents, no one had ever referred to them as beautiful. Yet in their own unique way they were beautiful. Why have I spent all of my days hiding from the world?

  A burst of wailing came from the other room, and there was a tapping on the door.

  “Olympe, what all did you put in that calming tea?” Isadora asked. “I need to make some more.” On their way to the kitchen, Isadora explained, “Tamara was telling Jaden how once we have the mushrooms, the mixture would have to most likely cure for seven days before we can give the drink to the Mal Rous. Well, the poor child just fell apart again.”

  Olympe and her sisters understood why Jaden felt like her life was being shredded into tiny pieces. After all, she’d been trapped in a state of physical, mental, and emotional turmoil for days now, with no way out until the Mal Rous were eliminated. And if they weren’t? Olympe knew that if Jaden didn’t survive and win, it could mean everyone’s downfall. Hubs, her sisters, Violet, Briz, they were all a part of this now. Jaden was their only hope. Their lives were in her hands. It was a heavy burden for such a young girl. For anyone.

  Carr
ying a tray with a teapot of her special blend and cups for everyone, Olympe walked into the living room. She could see how exhausted they all were. Briz had his arm around Jaden, doing his best to comfort her without stirring up her urge to mate with him. Olympe wondered if Jaden truly grasped how much the boy cared for her, what he was sacrificing for her. It reminded Olympe of Billy, when he left his family behind to be with her and Hubs. She passed around cups of tea and sat down.

  Jaden’s howling stopped abruptly. The girl fixed her eyes on Violet. The Bellibone was sniffing the air.

  A hush filled the room. Olympe heard the sound of footsteps, quiet-like, sneaking across the porch. She could tell that the others heard it, too.

  They all held their breath and froze, like cursed prey. Olympe knew that everyone felt the same gnawing in their bones—terror that the Mal Rous had found them. Her jangling nerves caused the saucer in her hand to rattle. Tea spilled as she set her cup on the table. We was being naive, thinking the Mal Rous wouldn’t track Jaden here so quickly. It was reckless to let her carry on so loudly. All her sobbing. Even Violet didn’t hear them or smell them till now.

  Olympe watched Tamara grab the lamp from the table as if she were going to pound one of the brutes to death with it. Briz stood up, no better prepared, with only his teacup in hand, ready to charge them.

  The screen door creaked. The air felt thick with dread.

  The doorknob slowly turned.

  Olympe’s heart raced. She could feel Isadora and Tamara’s hearts hammering as well. She shut her eyes to avoid witnessing her sisters being slaughtered. Then a fierce anger rose within her and she opened her eyes, prepared to tear the Mal Rous apart for what they had done to her son when he was a little boy. She jumped to her feet.

  Briz dropped his cup and rushed forward.

  Violet shouted, “No!”

  But it was too late. Briz slammed against the door, trying to shut it, but something was shoving it against him, pushing steadily inward. Briz’s feet slid out from under him and he fell to the floor.