The Eighth Day (17 page)

The second man started to help her up, but the cruel one swooped in and grabbed her by the throat, hauling her to her feet. “You are nothing but a vessel, girl. A vessel for the bloodline that maintains the eighth day.”

She clawed at his fingers, but he tightened his grip, and spots floated in her eyes
.

“We'll put you somewhere safe,” he said. “But if I think, even for a second, that you've taken up your father's cause, I'll kill you myself. Do you understand?”

The room grew dim around her. Her head spun, and her hands fell to her side
.

“If we cannot keep you hidden, we must prevent you being used as a weapon.” The other man spoke urgently, as if he knew she was close to passing out. “Understand that, child. No one is going to save you for your own sake.”

Evangeline had often wished her eleven-year-old self had been clever enough to renounce her father and declare that the eighth day must be upheld at any cost. But the fact was, they probably wouldn't
have believed her, and no answer would have changed the truth of what they said
.

Nobody would ever care enough to save her for her own sake
.

She gave up trying to sleep at dawn and went downstairs, where she discovered the books she'd requested on the kitchen counter—local history and geography. Jax had been thoughtful enough to get them, which made his failure to check on her last night even stranger
.

When she looked outside, his house appeared the same as it had at midnight, but Evangeline shivered uneasily. The house gave off a feeling of emptiness. She couldn't put her finger on why, but she felt very strongly that no one was home—and that no one had been home last night when she reappeared. Something's wrong. Jax would have been here if he could have been
.

She slipped outside and crossed the property line to crack open the door of their shed and peek inside. The motorcycle was there, and that caused her a stab of alarm. Both boys seemed to be absent from home without their usual means of transportation
.

But they weren't expected to report their travel plans to Evangeline. Fat Friend had a truck, and Black-Haired Girl had a car. The boys could have left with either one of them
.

Walking up to the front door was harder than opening the shed. Despite her growing certainty that they weren't home, it took all her bravery to mount the front steps. The door was unlocked and swung open, giving Evangeline her first glimpse inside
.

Squalid was the word that came to mind
.

The house was much smaller than Mrs. Unger's and looked as if it had been decorated by an old woman and then fallen into the hands of unsupervised boys—boys who didn't know how to use a vacuum and weren't in a hurry to clean up dirty dishes. Inside-out sweatshirts lay draped over chairs, and balled-up socks littered the floor. On a low table in the living room, Evangeline spotted a sheath with Jax's dagger in it and a walkie-talkie
.

Where had Jax gone without his honor blade? Where had they both gone, leaving the front door unlocked?

She could scry for them. All she needed was a small, personal piece of each of them
.

Now she grew bold, running upstairs. The absolute silence of the house assured her that she was alone, but this was still a violation of every rule she'd made for herself. She pushed open the door of the first bedroom and knew from the telescope leaning against a wall that it was Jax's. She got what she wanted from a hairbrush on his bedside table, pulling out a few strands of brown hair and carefully tucking them into the back pocket of her jeans
.

Now for the other one
.

She ventured across the hall to the second bedroom. She had no right to snoop in his personal belongings, but she headed for his dresser anyway, where, amid scattered change, crumpled receipts, and gum wrappers, she found a comb with a few strands of auburn hair. She reached for them, but then her eyes fell on a photograph tucked in the corner of his mirror
.

A girl—and not the black-haired one. How many girlfriends did Riley Pendragon have?

Evangeline felt foolish. She had no business doing this, and he wouldn't thank her for spying on him. She turned away, but a sudden thought made her stop and look at the photo again
.

The girl had auburn hair and a familiar smile. This wasn't a girlfriend; this was family. Jax said Riley had no living relatives, but this girl was someone he'd been close to, someone he still missed, someone whose picture he cherished. A sister, most likely. Evangeline wished she had a picture of her sister
.

With sudden resolve, she plucked the hair from his comb, pushed it into a different pocket, and left the house
.

Back in Mrs. Unger's kitchen, she filled a metal baking pan with water, carried it to the table, and cast Jax's hair into it. While she waited for the water to grow still, she located saffron and put a few silky strands on her tongue to dissolve. She closed her eyes and recited the words of the incantation in the old language
.

At first, when she opened her eyes, all she could see on the surface of the water was a reflection of the ceiling light above. Whispering the words of the spell, she leaned closer. The reflection wavered, and an image of Jax appeared. He was riding a bicycle—not his regular bike, but a very fancy one. Evangeline's relief was quickly replaced by annoyance. She'd been worried about him, and he was fine. He hadn't returned last night because in the seven days between her existence, he'd found something better to do
.

Evangeline blinked to clear the image, and the pan of water returned to its normal state. Jax was perfectly safe, and Riley probably was, too. There was no reason to scry for him
.

If she was smart, she'd stop now
.

Biting her lip, Evangeline plucked Jax's hairs out of the water and put the other ones in their place. She shook a few more threads of saffron out of the spice jar, laid them on her tongue, and repeated the incantation for the spell. It wasn't very long before another image appeared in the water
.

R
iley was leaning against the side of Black-Haired Girl's car. She had the roof up to protect the vehicle from the weather, but neither of them seemed to mind standing in the rain themselves. They were talking intently, and Riley slicked back his wet hair, looking worried. Black-Haired Girl smiled up at him, nudging him with an elbow. He relaxed a bit and grinned at her
.

Evangeline splashed the water with her fingers, obliterating the image
.

R
iley was on a date, and Jax had gotten a new bike. How nice that they enjoyed such Normal lives
.

She picked up the pan of water and threw it across the room into the sink. Water flew everywhere, and the pan hit the sink so hard that plates rattled in the cabinets
.

When the doorbell rang a couple hours later, Evangeline knew who it was. Only one person had the nerve to march up the front steps and press the button like that, over and over. When she didn't answer, he started pounding. “Evangeline? Are you in there? I know you're mad at me, but you've got to let me know you're okay.” More pounding. “Evangeline?”

Finally she gave up and opened the door
.

Jax exhaled with relief. “Look, you have every right to be angry, but I didn't mean to leave you alone last night.” He rubbed his hand against his face, wiping off the misty rain. “Can I come in and explain?”

“No.”

“Will you come out?”

“No.”

“I'm sorry,” he began again
.

“Jax.” She gripped the doorknob tightly, steeling herself. “I want you to leave me alone. No more messages or gifts. No lawn parties, no electricity. Just stop.”

He wilted. Evangeline bit her lip. It wasn't his fault, and she owed him an explanation. “Your life goes by so fast for me,” she said. “I only catch glimpses of it, and I can't participate.”

“Oka-a-ay,” he said, his brow furrowed. “But I don't understand why we can't be friends.”

“Because it hurts, Jax.”

She saw his eyes widen in understanding. His hands floundered, as if he were trying to come up with a response. Instead, he took a step backward and down, off the front stoop
.

Evangeline closed the door
.

UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE

HarperCollins Publishers

..................................................................

BY FRIDAY AFTERNOON,
Jax had taken to stabbing his math book with the tip of his father's dagger. That would make
two
ruined textbooks he had to turn in, but he had bigger things to worry about than the disapproval of his science and math teachers.

The Donovans hadn't been in school on Thursday or Friday. Jax should have been relieved.
They're probably on the lam, and they'll never be back
. But their absence made him nervous, as if losing track of them was dangerous.

Billy, on the other hand, was in his face every day. “You're skeeving me out,” Jax complained.

“That's what everybody says about you,” Billy retorted.

Across the aisle in science class, Giana hunched in her seat. She hadn't hissed any insults or tried to trip him since their last encounter. Jax ignored her. He couldn't believe he used to want to talk to her. She was mean and a bully and a coward.
Giana
wouldn't have had the guts to stand
up to an armed bank robber.

Which made the seat behind Jax seem even emptier.

Billy lowered his voice. “Enzo's telling everyone you put a spell on him.”

“Yeah. I'm a witch,” Jax whispered. “You got me.”

“Wish it was true, dude. 'Cause that would be cool.”

Alone at home with Riley still gone, Jax considered getting a pair of handcuffs and inviting Billy to spend the night next Wednesday. Then he stabbed the algebra book again. What if he handcuffed himself to Evangeline? Could he pull her into Thursday? Or would she yank him forward seven days and into the next Grunsday?

It was worth a shot. But she'd told him to leave her alone. This time Jax stabbed the cover of the math book so hard, the dagger stood upright, quivering.

The front door burst open, and Riley and the Crandalls spilled into the living room, laughing and carting in rifles as if they'd just returned from a hunting trip. Thinking about Terrance's gun, Jax's stomach turned over.

That gun was for you
, Thomas had said.

They seemed oblivious to Jax, who watched for a moment before calling out, “Was it a successful mission?”

“Yeah,” Riley answered. “Everything okay here?”

“Never better,” Jax grunted. Terrance, he'd discovered from online news, was behind bars. Authorities were “puzzled” by the circumstances of the robbery but didn't plan on letting their suspect go anytime soon.

Jax wondered what made his guardian any different from Terrance. “Did you make your first kill?” he asked.

Riley stared at him. “What?”

A.J. and his father exchanged glances.

“Did you make your first kill?” Jax repeated. “Miller didn't think you'd do it.”

Miller didn't think you'd do it
. Jax saw Riley mouth the words silently. Then he whipped his phone out of his back pocket. “You little sneak,” Riley said, thumbing keys on the phone to find his text messages.

Mr. Crandall clapped Riley on the shoulder. “Told you! Having an inquisitor in the house is going to give you some trouble.”

Riley stabbed at the buttons on his phone, probably deleting messages.

“Nobody got killed,” Mr. Crandall assured Jax.

“Where's Deidre?” Jax demanded. “Why did you need all the guns? Why does she even have so many?”

“Deidre's back at college,” Riley said. “And the rest is none of your business.”

“Tell him, son,” Mr. Crandall said to Riley. “This would go a lot easier if you'd accept that the boy belongs with us.” Pushing A.J. toward the door, Mr. Crandall called to Jax, “Keep at it. I know talent when I see it.”

Jax and Riley looked at each other warily. Then Riley grabbed his duffle bag, brushed past Jax, and headed upstairs.

Jax wrestled his father's honor blade out of the math
book.
His
honor blade. If Melinda was right, he needed to think of it as
his
to make it work for him.

“So, what does
she
have to say this week?”

Riley, coming back down the stairs, asked the question with a casual air, as if he didn't care, but Jax wasn't fooled. “Nothing,” Jax said. “She wants me to leave her alone. She says making friends
hurts
.”

Riley stiffened. “I warned you.”

“Why does she have to live like that?” Jax demanded. When Riley didn't answer, he added, “Do you want me to keeping snooping on my own?”

“She's an Emrys.” Riley sat on the edge of Jax's desk. “Merlin Emrys cast the spell that created Grunsday. He collaborated with Niviane and Arthur, betraying his own people and going willingly into imprisonment with them. But two thousand years is a long time for a spell to last, unless it's carried by a bloodline. The Emrys family keeps the spell active, and if they die out, the alternate timeline will pop out of existence.” Riley snapped his fingers. “Along with all the people trapped inside.”

Jax flinched, imagining the eighth day popping like a soap bubble.

Riley pointed next door. “This girl's father plotted to break the spell. He joined up with some very bad Kin clans, but he was stopped before he could act.”

“Stopped?” Jax asked suspiciously. “You mean he was killed.”

Riley nodded. “Even without him, his allies kept trying. Twenty years ago, a Kin lord attempted to alter the Grunsday spell, and the magical backwash from his failure devastated a Midwestern town. An entire housing community was blown apart between Wednesday and Thursday—dozens killed. It was blamed on a freak midnight tornado. After that, my father volunteered to help keep the remaining Emrys heirs under protective custody.”