Natural Selection (18 page)

Nate met my brother’s eyes for a long
moment. I could see the blue flames dancing across them, causing
his eyes to glow. After a long moment, Nate’s eyes fell on me. My
heart sped up as his eyes begged me to change my mind, but my jaw
locked stubbornly. I would not be budged, no matter how he tried to
persuade me.

With a heavy sigh and a shake of his
head, Nate spoke in a hard voice. “I guess I’m in.”

“
I think we should come up
with a plan,” Sariah said quietly.

“
I’ll call Evey and ask her
to come over. By the time anyone suspects anything, she’ll be in
Springfield.” I said with a shrug. My family wasn’t exactly happy
with it, but since no one had a better idea, I dialed the familiar
number with a slight tremor in my hand. Monica answered after the
fourth ring. I cleared my throat and tried to make my voice normal
as I could, but it still sounded tight and strained as I asked for
Evelyn.

“
Evelyn can’t come to the
phone,” she said in her Carol Brady voice. “But I’ll be sure to
tell her you called.”

“
Please, Mrs. Matthews,
it’s really important that I speak to her.”

“
She’s is a little tied up
at the moment. Maybe you should worry more about
yourself.”

Her tone held a hard edge that scared
me a little, but I had to try one last time. “I swear it’s a matter
of life or death, or I wouldn’t ask. Can I please speak to
her?”

“
You don’t need to worry
about Evelyn anymore. You need to butt out and leave me to deal
with my own daughter.”

My hands suddenly turned cold as they
gripped the phone tighter. I had no idea what to say and could only
swallow audibly. When I spoke again, my voice was weak and shaky.
“What are you going to do to her?”

“
None of your concern.
She's mine to deal with as I see fit. But she has been a very
naughty girl, now hasn’t she?” Monica’s voice made my breath catch
in my throat. Her innuendo terrified me, and I couldn’t form a
logical thought. I stammered for a second then slammed the phone in
its cradle, but not before I heard her blood chilling
laugh.

My family staring at me expectantly as
I turned. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but it did
nothing to relieve the heaviness in my stomach. “I think we’re
gonna need a different plan.”

THE PLAN WAS simple. Mom and Dad would
handle Peter Mathews. Sariah and Nate would distract Monica. And
Xander and I would get Evelyn out of the house. It would be
dangerous, but the faster we did this the better our chances were
of being successful. The call to Evelyn gave Monica a heads up, we
didn’t have any time to spare.

I expected the familiar yellow house
to be suddenly ominous, but it was still bright and cheery in the
fading light. The lacy white curtains in the window belied the evil
that dwelled inside. I swallowed and hugged my parents tightly
before grabbing Xander’s hand and dashing along the side of the
house towards Evelyn’s window. Sariah and Nate went around the
other side to the basement window that was always left unlocked.
Mom and Dad went to the front door. I felt the wind pick up and a
surge of energy from the front of the house as I edged around to
Evelyn’s window. I leaned around just enough to see the room.
Though it was dark, I could make out Evelyn’s silhouette on the
bed. Xander and I waited until we heard the thud of the door
crashing open to make our move. Xander broke the window and pulled
himself into the room. He put a blanket over the sill to protect me
from the broken glass and helped me in. I couldn’t help but notice
his skin felt strange, but decided to dismiss it until I had time
to deal with it later.

I switched on the reading lamp on the
desk. Evelyn looked even worse than she had a few hours ago at my
house. Her eyes were sunken and completely engulfed by black
circles. Slashes crisscrossed her forearms, some new and some a few
months old. I wondered if that had to do with her ritual or her
parents.

I turned away before the
sight made me cry. I would
not
feel sorry for her after the horrible things she
had done. She caused the death of four people, and I couldn’t
overlook that despite the fact she believed she was helping people.
I grabbed some clothes and shoved them into her duffel bag. I moved
over to her desk grabbing her journal and some of her other papers
when I noticed a book open and felt my hands go cold. The pages of
the spell book were stained with a few wax drips and a spot of
blood. I quickly skimmed the text and her notes in the margin. The
spell was designed to keep a witch from sensing Otherworlders. I
could tell by the notes in the margins that the first time she did
the spell was the night before school started. I remembered feeling
dizzy and the sudden need for fresh air.

We were about to scoop Evelyn up off
the bed when something heavy hit the door, jarring the frame.
Xander motioned for me to hide, so I pressed myself against the
wall between the door and the desk. My brother faded until I
couldn’t see him, becoming a sort of heat haze as he moved towards
the door. Slowly it eased open and the haze disappeared behind the
piece of wood. I peered through the little crack to see what was
going on. My mom pushed herself up from the floor, a small drop of
blood on her lip. Heading back into the living room, she wiped it
away with the back of her hand. A flash of light and Sariah’s
scream sent me sprinting into chaos.

Mom placed her hand on dad’s shoulder.
I could feel the energy in the room surge. Peter’s eyes were
completely white, and he seemed to be silhouetted though there was
no light behind him. He threw out a hand, My father’s knees buckled
and he fell to the floor. I could see the strain and pain on his
face, but he never took his eyes off the witch. The Xander’s hazy
shape went up to Mr. Matthews. I saw the surge as Xander’s fist
connected with Mr. Mathews’ face, sending him flying across the
coffee table to land awkwardly on the couch.

“
Xander, no!” Mom snapped,
and suddenly my brother was visible. The flames of anger in his
eyes were no longer confined to his irises, but his entire eye was
consumed in blue flames. “You can never let the bloodlust have
control.”

I glanced into the kitchen to see Nate
and Sariah grappling with Mrs. Mathews. Sariah had a knife sticking
out of her shoulder. Nate definitely had the upper hand, throwing
things around with blasts of wind and hurling lightning bolts, but
they all seemed to melt before they hit her. “Xander, help Nate!” I
yelled as I went to my parents in the living room. “I’ll help
Dad.”

I took my dad’s right hand, and Mom
took his left. I felt the power of the world around me for the
first time in my life. I pulled it in, letting it travel through me
into my father. The ground began to rumble and the living room
shook as if the earth was coming to battle with us. Peter stood to
face us, his dark hair whipping in the wind that was picking up
speed and power in the living room. He was battered by objects torn
from tables and shelves but remained unfazed. I saw a large book
that normally sat on the coffee table smack him in the head, but he
didn’t even seem to notice. Lightning shot from my father’s hand
striking Peter so hard he was blown out of his tennis shoes. He
landed in a heap beneath the large picture window, and my father
hit him with a second then a third bolt. I didn’t think Mr.
Matthews was getting back up after that.

The living room strewn with debris.
The rise and fall of Mr. Mathews’ chest was the only indication he
clung to life as he lay at an odd angle on the floor. My dad was
climbing to his feet with my mother’s help. He gave me a weary
smile, but I knew he would be ok.

“
Noooooo!” A shriek came
from the kitchen.

Everything went into slow motion.
Monica jerked out of my brother’s hands, grabbed the knife out of
my sister’s shoulder, and ran towards us. Throwing my arm up over
my face, I stepped towards my father as he attempted to shove me
behind him. Mom grabbed for her wrist, but Mrs. Matthews shoved her
with an arm against her chest, knocking her off her feet. My hands
reached over his shoulder and locked around her forearm trying to
keep the blade away from my father. The knife got closer and closer
as she fought me with an unnatural strength. I strained and my
muscles shook. I wouldn’t give up. I pressed against his back
trying to get better leverage when I felt my father jerk. The knife
was thrust deep into his chest. He made a gurgling noise as he
crumpled, pulling the blade out of her grasp.

Something snapped inside me. I didn’t
feel timid or afraid. I just felt the red-hot fury flooding my
body. I balled my hand into a fist and hit her with everything I
could muster—putting all my pain and frustration into that single
move. I felt crunching as I connected with her nose, but I wasn’t
sure if it was her or me. Fire exploded in my hand, radiating up my
arm. I gritted my teeth and tried not to shake my hand or give any
sign that I was in pain.

Blood poured from Monica’s nose, but
her twisted expression didn’t change. Before I could go for her
again a wooden carving board met the back of her head with a solid
thud. Mrs. Matthews went down like her bones had melted revealing
Sariah standing behind her with a snarl on her lips. A silent void
encompassed the room as we all stared at each other, wide eyed and
bloody.

MY MOTHER’S SOBS broke the silence.
She cradled my father’s head in her lap, running her hand through
the fringe on the sides of his head. “Hold on, baby, you have to
hang on for me,” she sobbed. My breath caught in my throat, and my
heart dropped into my stomach.

I fell to my knees and crawled to
their side, taking my father’s hand. “Daddy?” I said, sounding more
like a little girl than the woman I was now. “Dad, you have to hold
on.” Blackness overwhelmed me, and I was drowning. I couldn’t swim
against the currents of pain pulling me under—I didn’t know if I
wanted to. “Don’t you leave me! Please, Daddy!” He feebly tried to
raise his hand to me, but it flopped back. He took a final ragged
breath before the light in his eyes went out. I knew my father was
gone.

Pain overwhelmed me. Collapsing on his
still chest, tears poured from my eyes in an endless stream. I
couldn’t breathe from the pressure in my chest. Every breath hurt
like I was inhaling powdered glass. A hand gently cupped the back
of my head, and I groped for it. Threading my mother’s familiar
fingers with my own, we clung to my father’s body.

Body. My father was a body. He’d never
hug me or call me girly again. He wouldn’t walk me down the aisle
at my wedding, or see his grandchildren. All the things he would
never do overwhelmed me, making it hard to think of anything at
all. I couldn’t imagine my life without my father, and I wished I
could lay next to him in that living room and die myself. I had no
idea how to begin pulling the shattered pieces back together. All I
could feel was loss and the sharp ache of a loneliness that would
never go away.

Hands were pulling me away, but I
struck out at them. I needed to be with my daddy. Why wouldn’t they
leave me alone? But the hands were persistent, and I was pressed
into the familiar solidity of my brother. I let my grief overwhelm
me as I sobbed into his chest. The strength drained from my legs,
but he held me up. I cried until I didn’t think I could have
anymore tears, yet still they came. Finally calming to soft, sharp
inhales, I turned my face up to look at him and saw tears streaking
down his face. He clung to me as desperately as I was clinging to
him.