Elixir (8 page)

And yet I couldn’t deny what my eyes were seeing.

She was floating overhead, as if she was sprawled out on a huge cushion of air.

The only way a human could have magical powers, Obadiah had said, was through drinking Elixir . . .

“You gave Elixir to my friend!” I turned on Obadiah.

“Mab, I’ve never seen this woman before in my life,” Obadiah protested. He was staring up at Eva too. “I know my customers. And she’s never been one. You said yourself your friend just arrived here.”

“My friend is flying! How would she do that? She must have drunk Elixir!”

Obadiah shook his head.

“I see no other explanation, but I swear I never gave her any. I swear on my honor.”

“I don’t know if I believe in your honor. But I don’t believe what I’m seeing either.”

Eva was hovering right above us now. She was waving her arms and kicking her legs like she was swimming in thin air—experimenting with how each movement affected how she flew. From overhead, I heard her giggle.

“Eva!” I called out.

Startled, she turned towards us. Recognition dawned on her face as she saw me, and she beamed.

“Mab! There you are! Oh my goodness, I was so worried about you!”

“Eva—I’m worried about you!” But I don’t think she could hear me, she was so high up in the air.

“You won’t believe this!” she called out—as if I wasn’t already seeing the most unbelievable thing in the world. “I came to check up on you. I called you a bunch of times and you didn’t answer. I was so worried about you.”

“I know, I know,” I said miserably. If I’d only picked up my damn phone . . .

“I decided I’d just come myself and see if you were okay. Ramsey offered to take me. He was worried about me going alone.” She smiled. “He’s overprotective like that.”

I scowled. Somehow, I never thought Ramsey’s intentions were purely noble, but I didn’t have time to think about that now.

“We searched for you but we couldn’t find you,” she called out.

Because I’ve been alone with Obadiah the whole time,
I thought guiltily.

“Anyway, he got me a drink downstairs. Mab, I think someone put something in it. I’m having the most realistic hallucination,” she said, zooming in little circles around us. “I feel like I’m flying!”

“Eva—you really are flying! It’s not a hallucination!” I screamed up at her. But Eva only laughed.

“I know, it feels so real!” she said again.

“Eva, it
is
real!” I cried. “I know you don’t believe me, but I’m telling you, it’s real.”

Could that prick Eva was dating, Ramsey, have given Elixir to her? He might be a jerk, but I’d always assumed he was human. How the hell had Ramsey gotten Elixir to give to Eva?

“Obadiah, is Eva’s boyfriend, Ramsey, one of your customers?”

“I don’t have any customers by that name.”

“Well, how else would he get it and give it to my friend? Unless someone down there gave it to him?”

Obadiah shook his head. He was pacing along the edge of the rooftop.

“No one else knows where I keep my Elixir,” he said. “No one else even knows how to get into my secret room.”

“Well, then can you explain how my friend is flying?” I said, aghast.

Obadiah shook his head. “I don’t understand it either. But . . .”

Eva was zooming in circles over our heads.

“This is so cool!” she called out. “You guys won’t believe this!”

She did a backflip in midair over our heads, and then laughed—a laugh of pure, giddy joy.

I felt a little pinch in my throat. I hadn’t heard Eva laugh like that in a while. Up there, she was so far away from her everyday worries—night shifts, student loans, the dramas of her relationship with Ramsey. Eva hadn’t looked this relaxed and happy in months.

“You should warn her,” I heard Obadiah say, “tell her to come down. The magic from Elixir can wear off at any time . . .”

My stomach felt leaden at the thought. Eva must be fifty feet in the air. If she were to fall right now . . .

“Eva! You’ve got to come down!” I called up to her, “Seriously, Eva! It’s dangerous!”

But she was doing loops in the air. She was writing in cursive script with her body.

“Can you tell what I’m spelling out, Mab?” she said, giggling.

“Please come down, Eva!” I begged. “Just . . . come down to the rooftop, to where we are, okay?”

Slowly her body began to drift in my direction.

“There, that’s it!” I said, encouraging her. “Come on, just a little bit further,” I cajoled.

But then she started to laugh again.

“You guys. Watch this!”

Building up speed, she made a loop in the air, and then flew towards the street.

“Eva!” I screamed.

Suddenly, it was as if Eva herself knew something was wrong.

She stopped laughing. She started to careen in flight, like a balloon sputtering out of air. Trying to steady herself, she stuck out her arms, flapping them like wings. But it didn’t work. She waved her arms frantically, like a drowning child.

“Eva, no!”

I reached out my arms helplessly to intervene—as if that futile gesture could actually do anything. Then it hit me. Why hadn’t I thought of it before?

I turned to Obadiah.

“Give me the vial!”

“What?”

“The Elixir! Give it to me! I need to fly up there, to help her!” I pointed to Eva.

Obadiah dove into his pocket, grabbed the vial and held it out. I snatched it from his hands.

“What’s happening?” I heard Eva cry from above. “Mab, I can’t control it anymore!”

“Eva, hang on! I’m coming to get you!” I shouted up to her.

My hands were shaking. I tried to pry the stopper off. But it was stuck. It wouldn’t budge.

“Obadiah, help me!” I clawed at the vial.

He reached out, but before he could take it from me, I smelled it—the scent of a thunderstorm flooding the air. The vial was open. I closed my eyes and whispered a silent intention—
fly to Eva, bring her safely down
. I raised the vial to my lips.

But before the glass had touched my mouth I heard it—my heart stopped: a high-pitched scream of pure terror. And then a sickening thud. And then silence.

CHAPTER 7

T
he vial of Elixir fell from my fingers, shattering on the rooftop.

“Eva!” I screamed, racing towards the fire escape. I bounded down the stairs, as fast as I could go, Obadiah running after me.

The steps were icy and I tripped, the wet snow flying up into my face, but I didn’t stop. Obadiah was ahead of me now. He’d already reached the ground. We were both moving as fast as we could.

But was it already too late?

Through the bars of the fire escape I saw Eva crumpled on the ground. Her arms and legs were splayed out at crazy angles; her hair had sprung loose from her ponytail and lay spread out around her like a dark halo. She wasn’t moving.

No. Please, no.

I reached the last step of the fire escape and jumped down, landing in the snow.

I rushed over to her frantically, taking her arm, rolling up her jacket sleeve, pressing at her wrist, searching for a pulse.

“Please, Eva,” I begged, pressing down into her skin. I didn’t even know what I was searching for—I’d never taken a pulse before. Eva was the nurse, she was the one who knew this stuff. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely find it.

But then I felt something under my finger. It was small, fragile, delicate as the fluttering of a newborn bird. But I had felt it. A pulse. I bent down, pressing my face against Eva’s, and felt the warmth of her breath on my neck.

“Eva!” I nearly started crying in relief.

But she didn’t respond. She was unconscious. She was breathing at least—but still, this was serious; I knew that much.

Over my shoulder I could hear Obadiah on the phone. He had already called 911. The thing I should have thought to do, he’d already taken care of. He was good in a crisis, I realized as I watched him.

“She fell,” I heard him saying to the 911 operator. “I don’t know, at least fifty feet. No, I didn’t see where she fell from. We just saw when she hit the ground . . .”

I heard him giving the address of the club.

O
badiah and I were both standing side by side, mute and in shock when we heard the sound of a siren in the distance.

“They’re here,” I said, exhaling a long, ragged sigh. I didn’t realize I’d been holding my breath all this time.

Red and white lights flashed against the brick facade of the building, reflecting off the snow. The ambulance barreled down the street. I ran towards it, skittering on the ice, waving my arms, afraid it would run over Eva on the ground. But the ambulance jerked to a stop, right in front of Obadiah’s building.

Two men in yellow jackets emblazoned with the letters “EMT” jumped from the van, carrying a gurney between them.

They rushed over to Eva. One of the men placed some kind of clear plastic mask over her nose and mouth. The other man put his hands on both sides of her head, cradling it.

I could see flashes of light on Eva’s face—every time the red siren light spun around to illuminate it. Her face was slack, blank—yet somehow peaceful. She was still unconscious.

Obadiah and I walked towards the EMTs and stopped just a few feet behind them. We stood there, shivering, watching them work—feeling helpless.

“Is she going to . . . be okay?” I asked one of the EMTs, my voice cracking, but I stopped short. I didn’t want to say the word I was thinking.
Die?

The EMT shook his head.

“There’s no way to know that,” he said. His voice was surprisingly gentle for such a large man. “But it’s definitely serious. The doctors will be able to give a better prognosis. We are going to take her straight to the emergency room.”

I looked at Eva—her body limp in the EMT’s hands. Was she going to wake up?

I felt so powerless. I just wished I could help. But there was nothing I could do, nothing but stare and stand there uselessly as the EMT went to work on my best friend.

They had immobilized her and were slowly raising her onto the gurney. Eva’s face was still blank, expressionless. Her body was as limp as a doll in their arms. Her normally robust frame seemed so small and frail. Something deep in my gut twisted—I wished we could go with her into the E.R.; I didn’t want her to have to go through this alone.

I felt a hand on my shoulder. My head jerked up. It was Obadiah. He didn’t say anything—he didn’t have to. His hand on my shoulder seemed to be imbued with silent empathy. He just stood there, quiet and warm, behind me. Slowly I raised my hand and wrapped my fingers around his. I felt like crying.

But then we heard a second siren. A cop car had pulled up behind the ambulance, across the street from the building. Obadiah and I looked at each other, neither one of us understanding. Two police officers in the navy blue uniform of the NYPD stepped out—a short, stocky man with a red face, and a tall, Hispanic man, both in their early thirties. The guns in their waist holsters bobbed up and down as they walked towards us.

The short one extended his hand but didn’t smile.

“Officer McCleary,” he said, giving my fingers a rough squeeze. “This is my colleague Officer Diaz.” The other man gave a grim nod.

“Who called 911?” Officer McCleary asked. His voice was flat, emotionless.

“I did,” Obadiah replied.

Officer McCleary began to ask us questions. It was just the basic stuff, name, address, etc. . . . While we were talking, Officer Diaz made notes on a clipboard. The paper was pre-printed with the NYPD insignia—it was some kind of official form.

“Who is she?” McCleary asked, pointing at Eva’s body on the gurney. The paramedics were loading her in to the back of the ambulance.

“Eva Morales,” I spoke up. McCleary turned to me.

“And who are you?” he asked.

“I’m her roommate . . .” I paused. “I’m her friend.”

“So, what happened here?”

I looked at Obadiah—and I began to panic. What were we going to tell him? We couldn’t tell him the truth—that we’d seen Eva fly. He’d think we were nuts!

“I . . . I don’t know,” I stammered. Maybe I could tell the cops some of what happened and just leave out the flying part?

“I was here with Obadiah. We were on the roof. Then Eva texted me she was downstairs. I was supposed to meet up with her. She said the guy she was with had just gotten her a drink . . .”

Come to think of it, where the hell was Ramsey? I hadn’t seen him. Did he know about Eva’s fall? Surely he’d heard it. A crowd of people had gathered around the doorway outside the club and were gawking and whispering at the scene. If he was still inside, I should find him and tell him. I might not like the guy, but he deserved to know what happened. Would he want to come with us when we visited the hospital?