The Unseemly Education of Anne Merchant (38 page)

“I came back for a reason, Ben,” I say, watching him fiddle with a button on my Henley tee. “I think Villicus wants my dad to be his recruiter. To work with your dad.”

“Or to replace my dad.”

“Replace him?”

I adjust onto my elbow and, as I do, a paper I hadn’t noticed crinkles under me. Absently, I pull it out, glance at it, and nearly toss it aside. But I stop short when I recognize the drawing on it.

Ben is watching me. My breath catches in my throat as I look at the sketch. In the bottom right corner are my initials: A.M.

“It’s your best work, I think,” he says, a smile in his tone. “You really are a fantastic artist, Anne.”

“How did you get this?” I ask, my gaze glued to the page.

“My dad gave it to me.”

“But I did this years ago. I was only eleven or twelve.” I stroke the lines of the boy’s face I’d drawn and recall everything. “He was lying in a casket, and there was no one else in the room yet, so I snuck toward him and found myself captivated by him. I remember,” I say softly, reliving the moment, “being overcome by how young he was when he died. He was barely sixteen. And I remember imagining that he had beautiful eyes.”

“There was another casket there,” Ben tells me, triggering a memory.

“A closed casket. It was for his sister.” My eyes are filled with tears when I look up at him. The impossible words find their way onto my tongue. “For
your
sister. You were the boy.”

He nods and brushes my hair from my face.

“You sketched me, Anne. And then you kissed my cheek. And you tucked this sketch into my casket. My dad found it. He gave it to me when I woke on this island.”

“It was you,” I whisper as my head reels.

For the first time, I am beginning to understand why I’ve felt so connected to Ben. Even when he was cold and cruel. Even when I believed he was in love with Garnet. My heart has been his since that stolen kiss so many years ago.

“You left an impression on me that day,” he replies, bringing his lips to my cheek and, slowly, trailing them down my jaw to my chin. “I’ve been looking for a charming, artistic blonde girl ever since. You can forgive me for settling for Garnet while I waited for you.”

“How long have you known I drew this?” I ask, my breath coming faster.

“I’ve spent five years imagining what the initials on this portrait stood for.”

Just when I thought I’d sorted out what I need to do—get my vial, leave—I learn that Ben Zin is the boy I first kissed, that he’s been thinking of me ever since, that we’ve been drawn together across the planes of existence. Everything that had to happen to bring us to this moment. If it’s not a coincidence, what does that mean for my plan?

“When I heard your story,” he continues, “I put the pieces together. And when I saw you that first morning outside Villicus’s office, while that pig Pilot was throwing himself all over you, it erased any doubt I had. I would have been overjoyed to see you at last, had I not been so tormented by the circumstances of our meeting.”

I catch myself smiling and shake my head. “But you wanted me to leave. To wake up.”

“I want you to live again, yes. Even if it means I won’t get to be with you.”

“Ben, when I was awake just now, back in California, I—I think my mom
wanted
to send me back here.” Before he can say a word, I race on, trying to explain my train of thought. “Her spirit was there. She sent me back into my coma. If she wants me here, Ben, and if you’re here, and if we have this history that we have, maybe—well, maybe this is all meant to be.”

His face is instantly whitewashed. “No, Anne. You don’t belong here.”

“Maybe I do.”

“You need to go back. You need to live a full, rich, happy life. Not to battle it out for the next two years under a tyrant like Villicus, especially against the likes of the students here.”

“But you just said! You’ve been thinking of me for five years.” I throw the covers off and sit just as he does, facing him directly. “Am I not what you remembered?”

“You’re better than I could hope for, Anne. I connected to your spirit that day, but I fell for you as you are, here and now. And I’ll think of you for the rest of my existence. But you deserve so much more than this.”

My stomach knots. “Is this because you’re worried about my dad replacing your dad? Because I would never let that happen!”

“Shh!” Glancing at the stairs, he sighs. “My dad will die an old man under Villicus’s rule. Even if I begged and pleaded for him to let me die, my dad’s too guilty about the car accident to give up on me, and Villicus needs him too badly to let that happen.”

Foolishly, I’d allowed a tiny spark of hope to ignite. Hope that Ben could live. Hope that I could wake up in California, graduate, and find a way to be with him. I can almost hear that spark fizzling now, can almost see it fade out.

“You need to worry about you and your dad,” he says. “Not about me.”

Feeling tears rising again, I drop my eyes and swallow down everything I’m feeling.

“Villicus wants something from you, Anne. Sure, he wants your dad, but I know in my soul that he wants
you
even more. I have no idea what’s motivating him, but I’m sure that he’d be happier to have you dead and trapped at Cania than any alternative. Even if it means sending one of his peons out to your hospital just to—”

“Slit my throat? Smother me with a pillow?”

“Something less direct,” he says, releasing his grip on me. “I’ve done a lot of reading on the subject. And although I don’t think Villicus or his lot are allowed to take human life, just as they can’t create it from scratch, I do believe Villicus could be hatching a plan right now to end your life. That’s why my dad called, to warn you guys.”

“No one would kill me.”

“Any
of his employees would try to. The faculty. The secretaries. The housemoms and lunch ladies. All of them. They’d do something that would cause your death. They’re all in his control. He’s not just a man to them. He’s their king.”

“Ben, he
is
just a man. Evil, true. Insane, definitely. Paranormally gifted, yes. But only a man.”

“Explain his power to vivify us,” he whispers hoarsely, shifting closer to me and searching my face desperately. “He smells like fire. His glare is soulless. When he touches you, it’s like being thrust into a nightmare. He makes us sign ourselves over to him in blood.
Blood,
Anne. He gets sick thrills out of forcing a man to tattoo his forehead. He builds us a beautiful cafeteria knowing the vivified don’t have appetites. And Garnet offered him her soul if he would give her twenty-four years with me on this island.”

That stuns me.

I shake my head, unable to believe it. “She traded her soul?”

He nods.

“Okay,” I concede. “Villicus has a
fascination
with evil.”

“No, he
is
evil. Can’t you see? Hell is empty. All the devils are here.”

“If that’s true,” I blast, “then if he wants me dead, if he wants my dad to work for him, nothing will stop him. I’m as good as dead. That’s it.”

A rustle outside startles us both. We pause, and, in the stillness, with the rain pelting the roof, I hear our hearts thumping.

“Not necessarily,” Ben says quietly. “Don’t think I haven’t thought this through. We could force you to wake up again. Is your dad a reasonable man?”

“Aside from the fact he thinks Villicus is a godsend.”

“Do you think you could convince him to sell the funeral home?”

“It was my mom’s family business. I don’t know. Maybe.” I start working through his plan in my head. “So you think that if my dad gets disconnected from his network of rich mourners, Villicus might find us less interesting.”

“It’s worth a shot. Until we can figure out what Villicus wants with you. It might buy us some time.”

I nod but, when it occurs to me that Ben will be trapped here forever with Villicus, I change my mind. “You would just stay here? Trapped?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll have the memory of two weeks with you to keep me company.” A slow smile spreads across his perfect face, changing something inside me, driving home exactly why I can’t just turn my back on him. “Let me do this for you. Let me protect you as I couldn’t protect Jeannie. Anne, I’ve been here for five years for all the wrong reasons. Let me spend the next fifty here for the right ones.”

“Fifty!” I try to keep my voice low, but it’s hard. “What about this? I wake up right now, tell my dad to run away so he’s protected, and kill myself. Then come back here. Where you are. We can sort things out from there.”

“That’s not even on the table,” he stammers. “Not when you still have a chance at a real life. You’re talking about killing yourself. Suicide.”

“Pulling the plug,” I counter. “Euthanasia. A mercy killing. I’ve been in a coma for years. If it weren’t for the hospital, I’d be dead anyway.”

“Don’t talk like that.”

“Just be honest, then. Just tell me it’s because you don’t want me to be here with you.” I square my shoulders. “Not because you’re trying to be noble.”

With a short laugh, he leans back and watches me. “Crazy girl.”

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“I want you to leave
only because
I know what’s here for you. I’ve had a long time to learn about everything on Wormwood, and none of it’s good.” His hand strokes my arm again. Softly. Then with pressure. “I only want what’s good for you. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

“
You’re
good for me.”

“I’m
terrible
for you. The worst,” he adds forcefully.

And just as our eyes meet, before I can breathe another breath, he thrusts me against my headboard, holding my gaze as he moves my whole body with absolute ferocity. My heart pounds. The length of his body presses against mine as our tangled bodies stretch across my bed. His hands lock my arms in place. His lips are so close. The anticipation. The all-consuming, heart-stopping anticipation.

“You came back for me, risking your life,” he growls. “That’s my fault.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I gasp.

“I should have left you alone the moment I realized you were
A.M.
You wouldn’t be considering euthanasia if I had.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“I turned Garnet against you, Anne. Don’t tell me that doesn’t matter. If you were to stay, she would do anything to keep you from becoming valedictorian.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

His eyes burn as he rattles off the many ways he thinks he’s wronged me. But his lips are so near. And his beauty, overwhelming from a distance, is intoxicating up close, making my mind hazy and driving logic, reason, fear—everything but the desire to be as close and as connected as possible to him—into a distant realm.

Still gripping my arms, he shakes his head. “I called you dumb.”

I pause. “Okay,” I whisper, smiling.
“That
matters.”

His soft lips finally brush mine, promising more, but he pulls away. With my pulse racing, I try to reorient myself, try to make sense of what
that
was. He looks mystified, torn even. And then I realize he’s listening for something. Slowly, he brings his finger to my lips. His eyes dart back and forth as we listen. The cottage is creaky at the best of times, and the wind and hail against the side of the house aren’t helping. But then I notice it. A more deliberate creaking. Unnatural creaking.

“Teddy’s back,” Ben whispers. “I have to go.”

Pausing again, we both hear another groan. Sounds like it’s coming from the landing on the second floor. Which means someone’s at the bottom of these old attic stairs. Just outside my door.
Teddy.
Maybe with Villicus. And they’re getting closer, approaching tentatively, as if they know I’m awake again and not alone.

“Play dead,” Ben says, smirking. “When Teddy’s gone, come over to my place, okay? I’m sure my dad can help us figure out a way to rouse you awake back home.”

Another creak. Is that someone’s hand on my doorknob? My eyes widen. I recline on the bed, pulling the covers up as Ben starts away. He watches the staircase. So do I. From where we are, we can just see the top of the door. It’s still closed. He shimmies the window, which gives, and looks back at me.

“Come over the moment you can,” he whispers. “I’d like to say good-bye properly.”

The window slides up, and he’s gone, creeping down my rooftop the same way he must have crept in when he left that book on my bed.

A squeak interrupts my thoughts. Someone is opening my bedroom door. Teddy? Villicus? Both? My heart pounds madly as I watch the shadows contract near my door, as a thin sliver of light replaces the darkness. I squeeze my eyelids shut. A faint scuffle on the stairs. And another. The soft pad of feet on my floorboards. It sounds like there’s only one person. But there could be two. They cross the foot of my bed and stand at my bedside table. Look down at me. I can feel their eyes, feel my heart thumping so loudly, there can be no doubt in their minds that I’m very much alive, back from California. I can only hope they’re seeing what I want them to see. The signs of sleep. My heavy breathing. My eyelids twitching as if I’m mid-dream. Calm, sleeping girl with no concerns that she is the latest target of a madman. Of pure evil.

The person pushes my arm, shoving me awake, and I brace myself to be thrown down the stairs again as I open my eyes.

Gigi stares down at me. She is alone. Her hair is wild. Her eyes are bloodshot. She reeks of booze. I’d be relieved to see her if she didn’t look so feral.

“When I die,” she says, her tone flat, “throw my body off a cliff. I don’t want to be cremated.”

I nod, keeping my gaze fixed on her.

“Cremation is so permanent. I like to think my body might float out to sea, spend a little time there, and float back again one day. Then I’ll be reborn as the perfect version of myself. The beauty I once was.”

With a raspy final breath and nothing more, she recedes. A creak of the stairs. And the closing of my bedroom door.

Like a tightly wound spring released, I pop out of bed. Gigi’s words, spoken quietly, scream about the power Villicus will have if he keeps my vial in his possession. Waking from my coma and getting my dad to quit the business is good, but it’s not enough. Not if Villicus wants more from me and my dad than we know.