Sam I Am (10 page)

Dietrich stared at Logan for a moment, processing everything she’d just said. And then he came to his senses and began taking the stairs up two at a time. Logan was right behind him.

They came out of the stairwell and entered the hall, their mad-dash run drawing unwanted attention from patients, orderlies, and nurses as they made their way to Meagan’s room. Dietrich noticed the nurses behind their station beginning to stand, one of them reaching for the phone as they went by. He hadn’t wanted to cast anything over anyone innocent tonight, but they gave him little choice.

He muttered a few short, choice incantations and the nurses sat back down and attended to whatever tasks they had been previously dealing with. A glance behind him confirmed that Logan had both heard his incantations and noticed the abrupt change in the nurses’ behavior. He would have to explain everything to her later. Right now, there was no time.

They neared Meagan’s door and he saw her father slumped in the chair to one side. The spell was instantly recognizable and he was fairly sure it was Meagan who had cast it – not Katelyn. She had most likely sent it out as soon as Katelyn had attacked her so that her parents would not unwittingly get involved in something that could kill them.

Smart girl. Good witch. It was a pity she’d messed up on something as important as Samhain.

Dietrich opened the door and rushed inside the room just in time to find Katelyn Shanks crouched over Meagan’s very pale, very still body, her hand hovering over the sterling silver spiral of life draped around Meagan’s neck.

“
Stop!”
He held his hand out toward her and shoved as much influence into the word as he could muster. Katelyn froze where she was and her hand began to shake.

Meagan was clearly unconscious. The effort she’d expended to keep Katelyn at bay and her parents asleep had drained what little strength she’d had left.

Dietrich wasted no time. “Logan, take the medallion from Meagan’s neck and put it on!” he ordered as he strode toward Katelyn.

Logan raced forward and grasped the necklace just as Katelyn was shrugging off Lehrer’s hold. He watched as her hand lowered toward Logan’s, her nails digging deep furrows in the back of Logan’s hand.

Logan hissed in pain, but held tight to the necklace. It seemed to be the source of so much desire and pain and danger that there was no way in hell she was going to allow it to fall into Sam Hain’s grasp, despite the deep wounds now welling blood on the back of her hand.

She pulled her face back out of the way just in time to dodge Katelyn’s make-shift claws a second time as her best friend attempted to carve her up in any way she could.

“Mr. Lehrer!”

At that moment, Lehrer managed to wrap his arms around Katelyn’s torso and yank her back long enough for Logan to pull the chain over Meagan’s head and then put it on herself.

“No! You stupid bitch!” Katelyn hissed, fighting wildly in Lehrer’s grasp. “Give me the necklace!”

“Logan, get out of here! Get to the school and I’ll meet you there when I can!” Mr. Lehrer was in the process of pinning Katelyn’s arms to her sides as Logan nodded and dashed for the door. She threw it open and ran down the hall, her mind moving as quickly as her legs.

She didn’t know exactly what time it was or at what time, exactly, the dance was supposed to start, but there had to be at least three or four hours to go before it would begin. Mr. Lehrer wanted her to head there straight away, but she’d seen Sam there. It wouldn’t be safe at the school until Mr. Lehrer was there as well.

Logan was supposed to open the bakery for a birthday party. There was also Taylor and his truck to contend with. He would probably look for her at the school.

She needed time. She needed somewhere to hide, and she needed to think. If she headed to the bakery right now, she could also get something to eat – and
that
, she needed almost most of all.

It took her ten minutes to get to the bakery, and luckily the parking lot was still empty. The sign on the door read closed; it looked deserted. Logan turned off the truck, got out, and slammed the door.

She was striding across the gravel in the lot when she felt someone watching her.

It was something she had read about and seen in movies. She’d even heard others mention the sensation, in passing. But she’d never truly felt it before herself, and so she’d always thought it was an exaggeration – a general term used to describe some sort of inkling that one wasn’t alone.

However, now she felt his eyes on her like a brand. It was a sort of weight, like when someone put their hand on your shoulder to get your attention.

Logan stopped in her tracks and turned around. Traffic sped by on both Cooke Street and 34
^th
, the two roads running by the corner bakery and its parking lot. Logan’s gaze skirted the streets and sidewalks, the trees lining the road, and even the rooftops of opposite buildings. But there was no sign of him.

Yet, she was positive that Sam Hain could see her at that moment. If she’d possessed any, she would have bet real money on it.

Instinctively, she placed her hand over the necklace around her neck and closed the remaining distance to the bakery shop door. She unlocked it hastily and went in, making sure to lock it behind her. A wave of dizziness washed over her and she leaned back up against the door, closing her eyes to regain her bearings.

“Food,” she whispered. When she could, she pushed away from the door and made her way to the kitchen in the back.

Ten minutes later, she’d downed the half-sandwich Randy had left in the refrigerator, two cookies, and half a can of Coke, which she’d also kept in the refrigerator.

Her stomach cramped a little, but she could feel her strength returning and was no longer dizzy. The clock read 2:43. Seventeen minutes until the kids’ parents would begin to show up for their birthday party. She had most of the decorations up and the cookies and cupcakes were set out on a side table.

Now all she had to do was be ready to plaster a smile on her face and pretend that there was nowhere she would rather be and nothing else she could possibly be doing, at that moment in time, but hosting a seven-year-old’s birthday party while the allotted two hours ticked away at the
reverse
speed of light.

That was all she had to do.

And then, at five o’clock, she could head to the school and hopefully put an end to this nightmare she’d so unwittingly brought to life.

Logan was afraid to turn on her phone. It had been off all afternoon and she was certain that Taylor would have called their parents by now. In turn, they would have almost certainly called her. She probably had no fewer than a dozen messages waiting to scold her and was only surprised that her father hadn’t yet driven by the shop to speak with her in person.

Logan had cleaned up the birthday party mess in record time and locked the shop behind her with a heart that pounded progressively harder in her nervous chest. Again, she felt that she was being watched – and again, she saw no one.

She climbed into the truck, locked that door as well, and started the engine. It reliably roared to life and she hastily pulled out of the lot. It was late in the afternoon and the sun was already setting behind the ring of mountains around the town. It would be dark very soon and that left Logan feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

She had never before feared the night. In fact, she had always preferred it.

Sam Hain was turning her world upside down.

The sooner she made it to the school, the better. Mr. Lehrer said he would meet her there. He must have some plan; some idea of what to do with the necklace that Logan had been too afraid to take off. Maybe he was going to cast a spell.

He was obviously some sort of warlock. Or was it wizard? She had no idea. She just knew that Meagan was a witch and that Mr. Lehrer was somehow linked to her and that he had done something to the nurses at the nurses’ station in the hospital. She’d heard the words he had whispered – they weren’t English. At least, not an English she was familiar with. Maybe a very, very
old
English?

As Logan pondered all of this, her foot grew heavier on the gas pedal. She truly just wanted to be there, in the school, safely beside her history teacher, solving the problem that was Sam Hain. The gorgeous Sam Hain. The enigmatic, powerful, handsome, impossibly perfect Sam Hain. Lord of the Dead.

Logan felt it again, then. She was being watched. She glanced in the rearview mirror to find that the street behind her was dark and empty but for the street lamps that were just now beginning to go on all over town.

She looked at the sidewalks on either side of the road, but no one walked them. It was a relatively cold night and people had stopped going out hours before. Her town rolled up its sidewalks at five, and on the weekends, sooner, even, than that.

She was alone.

Maybe she wasn’t being watched, after all.
Maybe I’m imagining it. I’m having some sort of pre-diabetic sugar high or low or whatever and I’m getting paranoid.
A lot had happened in the last few days. And she was tired. She ran a hand over her face and returned her attention to the road ahead of her.

Finally, she turned onto the street that led to the school and recognized administration buildings all along one side of the avenue. She bit her lip and allowed herself to hope a little – she was almost there.

Another instinctive glance in the rear view mirror, and Logan was suddenly gasping as the reflected image of a skeleton gazed sightlessly back at her from where it sat in the back seat of the Ford.

Logan jerked the wheel to the right and hit the curb on the side of the street. She hopped it with a painful jump and a grinding, crunching noise, and then went over the edge to begin sliding down the green slope of a hill that led to a park down below.

It was one of the very few places in town where the city had attempted to water and feed the fescue in order to maintain it long into the winter months. As a result, the truck’s tires slipped and slid along the slick, sprinkler-soaked turf and Logan fought with the wheel. Terror yanked her heart into her throat and blocked all air from moving in or out of her lungs as she tried, with all of her might, to keep the truck from flipping.

She must have done something right, for within a few short moments, the truck came to a skidding stop and she glanced once more into the rear view mirror. The skeleton was gone.

Logan threw open the door to the truck and hurtled out into the night, falling at once to her knees. The ground that the city had fought so hard to preserve had been destroyed in places by the truck’s wheels, resulting in a torn turf of mud and patches of grass that clung to her jeans as she forced her legs under her once more.

She managed to come to her feet, leaning on the truck for support, her lungs now pumping air in and out with renewed and dizzying speed. She considered the truck for one tense moment, and realized that there was no way she was going to get it back onto the road by herself.

So, she pushed off of the truck bed and spun around, ready to run the remaining distance to the school.

But Sam Hain stood before her on the grass, blocking her path. He didn’t move; he simply studied her with those unnaturally blue eyes, a tall, still figure in black garb and dark calm. In the draperies of night, he appeared more ethereal than usual. Unnaturally beautiful. Wholly dangerous.

“I can hear your heart pounding,” he told her. “Did I scare you?”

Logan tried very hard not to faint. She focused on her body, on the ground beneath her feet, on the feel of the early evening air against her skin.

She didn’t answer him, of course. So he smiled, this time displaying straight white teeth with slightly elongated canines that only
hinted
at the true predatory nature of their possessor.

“You can’t outrun me, Logan.” He shook his head at the clearly ridiculous notion. “
No
one can.” He shrugged, his smile at once boyish and evil. “No one ever
has
.”

Logan bolted to the right, heading for the green hill that she had slid down moments before. Her Doc Martens slipped beneath her, the footing unsure, the terrain treacherous. She fell at one point, but quickly caught herself and pushed up off of the ground.

She wasn’t completely certain that she was headed in the right direction. She was no longer capable of entirely rational thought. She only knew that Death was on her tail, and she wasn’t quite ready to die.

At the top of the hill, the overhead lamplight hummed and buzzed, its haloes of fluorescent glow finally free of the swarms of insects that had died off during the first freeze. The street stretched out before Logan and, in the distance, she could make out the sheltering shape of the school’s front entrance beneath its awning and banners and the American flag. It waited about a half a mile down the road.

Logan broke into a sprint toward it and hope once more stubbornly burgeoned to life within her. She had Meagan’s bag of tricks in the pocket of her denim jacket. She had her Celtic spiral of life medallion around her neck. Mr. Lehrer was probably waiting for her somewhere inside.

He could fix this.