Of Breakable Things (18 page)

He debated whether or not to share this place with her. At first, he’d adamantly thought
no
, but Alex made things difficult. He’d never known how to handle himself around her. Alex was like a sunset on the horizon, beautifully unreal like the fingertips of the world grazing the edges of heaven, and yet painfully unattainable. Something he knew he could never reach, although that didn’t stop him from wanting it.

Since he could remember, he’d searched for hiding places. His brothers took up so much space that he couldn’t always breathe around them. This place he’d found by accident while attempting a detour during one of Van Hanlin’s scripted chasing routes. Among the trees that stretched so high they could, quite possibly, be gateways to eternity, one tree was different from all the others. It had thick leaves like a giant’s teardrops and branches that swayed without wind. Short and stout, it was blatantly out of place, overshadowed by its surroundings, kind of like Jonas.

Alex followed him beneath the protection of the tree and sat down. “What did you want to show me?”

“You’ll hear it before you see it.”

She cocked her head, listening for something. “Hear what?”

“Wait a few minutes.”

Alex folded her tiny hands in her lap.

He shifted his eyes as far as he could to look at her without turning his head. He wanted so badly to reach out and grab her hand.

“Where do you go when your brothers are around?” she asked out of the blue.

“What do you mean?”

“You aren’t
you
.”

Perhaps she sniffed out his vulnerability here. Jonas knew very well that the sullen person he became in the presence of his brothers was the type of person Alex became without them. “Where do
you
go when they’re
not
around?”

“Point taken,” she said.

He held her gaze longer than he was allowed. Her oversized eyes matched the dusk, whatever shade of blue was left to survive alone without the light from the sun. It was a bittersweet color. Like the ending of something good.

“In all seriousness,” Alex pressed him. “You sneak off a lot. I think maybe I’m the only one who notices.”

She noticed when he wasn’t around? Something inside of him fluttered. He’d missed that feeling. Optimism. “You aren’t the only one, believe me. My brothers have never really trusted me. Without Chase to babysit, they’ve been watching me like a hawk.”

“Why?”

Who would they ridicule without him? They couldn’t possibly turn on each other. “Who knows? Boredom?”

“Do they have a reason to be concerned?”

Jonas wondered if he should tell her about his little secret. He always seemed to get himself into messy situations. It wasn’t a reason for concern but rather something he was proud of, an opportunity, but it was also something he was supposed to keep to himself. Alex made him weak. He would tell her everything if it meant he could keep her.

Kaleb was the leader; Gabe was the genius; Chase was the heartthrob. He’d never voice it aloud, but he was dreading Chase’s return. Charm filled the air when just Kaleb and Gabe were around, but when Chase returned, it would spill over, and he’d be forced to wade through the weight at his ankles. It was tiring to keep up with them. And who was he if he didn’t maintain his own role?

“No,” he finally replied. “They don’t have a reason for concern. But if they didn’t assume I was up to no good, something would be wrong.”

“What do they think you’re up to?”

He grinned mischievously. “You.”

“Ah,” Alex sighed. “You’re using me to get under their skin.”

Of course she wouldn’t take it seriously. He began to respond, but stopped when the air around them began to ripple. “Here they come.”

“Who?”

He lifted a finger to his lips, and within seconds, there came a palpitation so intense the world seemed to tremble. “This is what I’ve been waiting to show you.”

Hundreds of butterflies swarmed the tree. “Why are they here?”

“Maybe they just like the tree, but I’ve been here three times now when it’s happened.” Jonas liked to think they flocked to this tree in particular because it was different. It was proof that bigger wasn’t always better.

“It’s like magic.”

He was pleased to find her so in awe. He’d known she’d appreciate this. The butterflies were all different sizes, all different colors, a Monet painting blotching the world. With a whispering whoosh, the tree shifted its branches in a ticklish shudder. He watched Alex reach out her arm. The first butterfly to land on her was black and blue, proving a bruise could be beautiful, as though it knew how her life had been.

“Ever heard of the butterfly effect?” he asked. “If the wings of one butterfly can alter the path of a storm … ” He waved at the scene around them. “Imagine what this could do.”

He liked the idea that something so trivial, so small, could have such a big effect. It gave him hope that with even the slightest imbalance, the weight of the world, and maybe even the fate of the world, could be shifted.

Then maybe he’d stand a chance.

On October first, the last-minute preparations for the Moribund Mansion of Morgues had turned into such frenzy that the manor itself had actually begun to hum like the steady buzz of a beehive. That evening, Duvall partnered Alex with Skye and gave them a bucket the size of a baby pool filled with giant spools of what seemed like thick white yarn. She ordered them to decorate every nook and cranny of the house with fake “spider webs,” a task that proved to be extremely tricky because Duvall had invented the substance, and when the threads broke, they regenerated.

Skye ended up in the doorway of the billiard room, swaddled by the adhesive. Duvall drifted past and paused to commend Skye for being so creative. “Next year,” she cackled, “we should assign spirits to be stuck in the webs, screaming for help!”

There seemed to be a competition among the teachers to outdo one another with fresh ideas for the mansion. Strobe lights, mirrors, and fake murders would only get you so far, Van Hanlin had said.

“Alex Ash!” Duvall snapped her fingers. “Remove your friend before the webs go down her throat. That would be extremely uncomfortable for her.”

“Technically, her throat doesn’t exist anymore, right?” Madison asked from across the room.

“No, it doesn’t exist, but she hasn’t been dead long enough to believe that. She’d feel the pain of it.”

It took Alex nearly an hour to extract Skye from the heart of the web without breaking any of the threads. “Thanks,” Skye chirped once her face was freed. “I bet this is the stuff we diagrammed in Duvall’s ABC class the other day.”

The diagram had been excruciatingly difficult even with accelerated brainpower. Alex was grateful that Jack had been her partner. The compound was a mixture of dozens of elements, many of which the physical world had yet to discover. Duvall’s periodic chart was nearly two times the size of the one Alex had used for chemistry when she was alive.

Alex struggled to disentangle the rest of Skye and finally freed her arms. “I wonder if it’s the same goop Duvall used in the ballroom. Rhodo gel, or whatever it’s called, was even stickier.”

“Rhodo gel?” Skye asked in surprise. “
That’s
what she wanted it for? The ballroom?”

Alex examined what was left to unravel. “Yeah.”

“I was there when Duvall started to prep the ingredients in her test tubes. It seemed like a pain to make, so I thought she had a more significant purpose for it. Amid a million other ingredients it has peppermint, ginkgo, basil, rosemary, and of course rhodiola.” She spun her hands in circles around her head. “All that
cleansing
stuff.”

“What would she need to cleanse?”

“Good question. Rhodo gel is supposed to make someone understand things that aren’t clear to them. Why would she use something so complicated to gloop a bunch of walls when she could have just used this?” Skye kicked the baby pool of webs.

“Maybe to help the guests get out of the ballroom?”

“Maybe.” Skye lifted a finger to her chin thoughtfully. A thick thread of web broke off from around her elbow and twisted its way around her torso like a vine. “Damn,” she murmured.

Alex began to unwind it, twirling Skye around like they were partners on a dance floor. The released threads clung to Alex like static. “This is probably the sort of thing they do at couples counseling retreats.”

“I doubt they have witches there to spin webs.”

“So Duvall really is a witch?”

“Of course. You have to understand that the word
witch
merely means someone who is
gifted
,” Skye picked at her fingers. “What? Why are you looking at me that way?”

“You say it so nonchalantly.”

“Say what?”

Alex glanced around nervously as the taboo reached her tongue. “Witches,” she said in a low voice.

“How else would I say it?” Skye let out a tiny laugh. “And you don’t have to whisper. Why do you think—Oh.” She paused, her smile fading. “You sit with the Bonds during Duvall’s class, don’t you?”

“So?” Alex was defensive. She didn’t understand why everyone felt the need to pick on them.

Skye snorted. “The typical Bond thing to do. They’ve infected your pretty little head already. I thought under all that hair you had more sense.”

Alex self-consciously spun her hair around her finger. “Why would that be typical?”

“Multigenerational spirits stick to their stereotypes. Everyone knows that Gossamers”—she pointed her thumb to her chest and winked—“are always captivating. Darwins are always aggressive. And Bonds are always cursed.” Skye plopped down on the floor with her long legs blocking the hallway. “They really haven’t told you anything?”

Alex shook her head.

“I guess that’s the smart thing to do. Before they were known for being cursed, they were known for being manipulative. I’m not sure which is worse. They wouldn’t want to scare you away, but you have a right to know who the Bonds really are.”

Alex crouched down next to her. “What do you mean by cursed?”

“Once, the Bond family was well regarded around here, but they pissed off the wrong gifted coven and now they’re doomed to remain at the bottom of the food chain.”

“What did they do?”

“Who knows? It must have been something pretty bad, though.”

“How do you know all this?”

“I’m a Gossamer. My family has been around for a while.” She grinned. “And we’re pretty good at getting what we want. Information included.”

“Right.” Alex murmured. “So people are afraid to be around them because the curse might spread? Are you afraid to be around them?”

“Yes and no. I understand why they do the things they do. I don’t think they’re
bad
people.”

“But you hang out with the Darwins,” Alex argued.

“I can’t change the fact that I’m a legacy. Not to mention the Darwins also have justification for their behaviors. Half of their family died in the Witch Wars compliments of the Bond family.” Skye shifted her legs when several spirits trumped by, sliding their hands along the wall and leaving trails of blood. More spirits followed, ripping dry wall, chipping paint, and depositing tattered objects along the hallway floor. Even though Skye was blatantly in the way, they smiled at her. One even thanked her for no reason, and she chuckled. “Anyway, I’d be careful if I were you. The Bonds will do anything to get ahead. They’ve been that way for a long time now. They’re like quicksand, and they’ll pull you down fast.”

A whistle sounded, indicating that they should report to their stations. Alex hadn’t even noticed that the air outside had dimmed in the approaching dusk. The first guests would be arriving soon.

“This is exciting!” Skye exclaimed. Evidently the previous conversation was over. Any trace of seriousness vanished from her face as she pointed to the sky. “The clouds are moving in circles tonight, and that means everything will go routinely.”

Alex didn’t know what it was about Skye that made her believe she was right. She picked up her bucket and followed the strange girl into the utility shed. Alex shoved the leftover webs under a counter, disturbing a thick layer of dust, which puffed into the air like flour in a bakery. “This place is filthy.”

“The dust is there on purpose. It helps the bodied to see us.”

“Oh.” Alex lifted her hand to examine the dust that stuck to it. “They wouldn’t be able to see us without it?”

“They could because we want them to, and technically they are searching for us without knowing it. The dust is there just in case. It’s another one of Duvall’s concoctions. Make sure you don’t have any of that dust on you now, though, since you’re supposed to be invisible. Here, wipe it on me, since I have to chase them.” Skye lifted a chainsaw from the workbench.

“If I were bodied, I probably would have run away from this place, screaming.”

“Oh, that’s the point though.”

“I know. I just mean—”

“But each guest
does
have to sign a waiver. Don’t worry,” Skye said, smiling at Alex’s alarm. She held up her chainsaw. “The blade is gone. It’s the people with certain medical conditions who are advised not to enter.”