All Wounds (3 page)

“Is that a lighter?” Rebecca asked, scowling.

“Yeah,” Ryan said, bringing a cigarette to his lips. “You got a problem with smokers?”

“Way to add to the bad-boy stereotype there,” she said, raising an eyebrow at his tone. “How did you get ahead of me anyway?”

“Back alley,” Ryan said, lighting his cigarette. “You know...the stereo-typical bad-boy escape route.” He pointed back over her shoulder. “If you cut through the gym and across the football field you can hop the fence and skip most of the block.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke.

Rebecca fanned the cloud away with her hand and wrinkled her nose.

“Where do you get the money for those anyway?” she asked.

“What is this, the Spanish Inquisition?” Ryan countered. He put a hand to his chest at her look of surprise that he’d mentioned precisely what had been on her detention assignment. “Wow, how about that? I actually
do
learn in school. Hair-off loves Spanish history and gives all the first-timers that assignment, so unless you want to learn more about the Conquistadors and the Inquisition, I’d keep out of trouble.” She wanted to laugh at his use of the name everyone called the toupee-wearing Mr. Nairhoft behind his back, but thought it would only encourage him. “What are you doing here, anyway?” She shifted her backpack to try to cover up her nervousness.

“You have my lucky pencil.” Ryan held out his hand.

“Right.” She rolled her eyes as she slung her pack off her shoulder, pulled out the pencil in question and offered it to him. “Good to know you cut through the gym, across the football field and jumped the fence just to rescue your pencil.”

“Hey, this is my
lucky
pencil!” he defended, though Rebecca knew he wasn’t being serious. He reached for it, and smiled a little as she held onto it for just a moment as he’d done to her when he’d loaned it to her in detention. “For this, I would even have rifled Hair-off ’s office...which is where I got the cigs.”

Rebecca looked horrified. “You didn’t!”

Ryan grinned. “These things will kill you, you know. I did him a favor.” He was quiet for a long moment, seeming to debate something with himself before he went on. “So what’d you do?”

“What?” Rebecca asked stupidly. He’d gotten what he came for. Why didn’t he just leave now? Then she remembered how Ryan always got something in return for whatever he’d given, and figured this must be the price she had to pay. Besides, it wasn’t like the whole school didn’t know what she’d done, and she told him so.

“I know what the rumor is,” he said, curling his lip in disgust. “I want to know what you
really
did.”

“I just...lost it,” she admitted. “It had been a crappy morning and Mrs.

Wilson’s snarky comment just hit me wrong.”

“I hear you told her to shut the hell up and mind her own fuckin’ business.” He took a long drag off the cigarette, stabbed it out against the trunk of the tree and put the remaining half back in the box. He tucked the box away in his pocket along with his silver lighter. “You really cuss out a prof?” Rebecca shrugged. “Yeah. I’m not proud of it. It was just...my last nerve, you know?”

He shook his head and laughed. “Well, you looked like you were in a hurry, so...” Ryan gestured down the block as if to excuse her. “Stay out of trouble, huh? You got more than a smart mouth on you and don’t belong in detention with Hair-off and the rest of us delinquents.”

“How do you know? Maybe I’m just starting out on delinquency,” she said before she could stop herself. “I hear all the cool kids are doing it.” Ryan laughed. “Yeah, and you’re just being cool, aren’t you? I’ve seen you around school, in class. You’re about as cool as a jalapeño. See you around, Hot Stuff,” he said, and turned to go.

She blushed. Yeah, one of the “cool kids”, she wasn’t. She was surprised he even knew who she was.

“I’m really sorry that whole pencil thing cost you another week with Mr. Nair...I mean Hair-off,” she blurted as she shouldered her bag again.

He waved a hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, walking away. “He won’t make it stick. Besides, some things are worth putting up with a little punishment.”

Funny,
that sounds just like what I was just thinking about Nana
.

Rebecca hesitated for a moment as she watched him go, and then turned back toward home, hurrying even more now. She thought about Ryan, and what he’d said. He’d seen her around? Sure, they had a couple of classes together, but she wasn’t the kind of girl anyone noticed. Just the opposite, really. The only reason anyone noticed her was because of Robin. Robin was the pretty one. The popular one. Robin getting busted was the talk of the school, as was the fact that it had been Rebecca’s fault. Robin had only been trying to help.

That might explain how Ryan had known about her, but how had he known which way she was headed home afterward? She could have gone in any direction...unless he knew where she lived.

Rebecca shook her head, laughing at herself. He’d just guessed lucky or something. He didn’t know where she lived.

Did he?

w x

Rebecca forgot about Ryan, Mr. Hair-off, detention and Robin the moment she walked through the front door of her house. It looked like Nana was having one of her “good days.” Rebecca was utterly relieved that everything seemed normal. Nana was sitting in her favorite chair, listening to some boring wildlife program on television, with Mishka on her lap. Mishka was a grouchy old cat—a big white fluffy thing that needed lots of brushing. If Nana remembered nothing else, she remembered to brush Mishka.

Not that Mishka minded if she was brushed three or four times a day.

That cat loved attention, and would happily sit all day in Nana’s lap being groomed. Only Nana’s lap. Mishka hated Rebecca and the feeling was mutual.

Mishka was
Nana’s
cat.

Rebecca stowed her backpack in the foyer, and made sure the doors were locked and the stove off and everything else was safe before greeting her grandmother.

“Hi, Nana!” Rebecca said as she entered the living room.

“Oh, Rebecca, you’re home,” Nana said, smiling even though Rebecca knew she was confused. “Did you have a good day at school?” Rebecca nodded as she always did. Even though today had been a horrible day at school, she still told her nana that everything was fine.

“Do you have a lot of homework?” Nana asked, earning a glare from Mishka as she stood up, emptying her lap of the cat.

“No, I got most of it done at school,” Rebecca answered honestly.

You could get a lot done in two hours of detention. “And I’m really hungry.

How about some dinner? It’s my turn to cook tonight.” Nana’s brow furrowed. “I thought you cooked last night.” She didn’t sound at all sure.

Rebecca really didn’t want to lie, but Nana in the kitchen was dangerous.

Rebecca cooked every night now, but let Nana think that she only cooked sometimes.

“I was really craving some spaghetti at school,” Rebecca hedged, steering the conversation away from who was going to do the cooking. “I thought that would be good for dinner. It’s easy to make—I know how. Your show isn’t over either, and I know the ones about wolves are your favorite. You can finish it while I go start dinner. I can do it, I promise.”

“All right,” Nana said with an absent nod and sat back down. Mishka jumped back up in her lap and Nana went back to brushing her. The cat glowered at Rebecca as if to say “Well? Go on, then. You’re not needed here.” Rebecca stuck her tongue out at the evil cat and went into the kitchen to start supper.

w x

Half the dishes on the draining board had been wiped and put away when she heard an insistent pounding at the front door, like someone kick-ing it. Hard.

Rebecca scowled as she looked at the clock. It was nearly nine o’clock, and they never had visitors anymore. Nana’s friends used to come by, when she could still remember who they were and what they’d been talking about.

Rebecca never had friends over. Not that she had any besides Robin, but even if she did, she wouldn’t have them over anyway. Other people just upset Nana now.

The noise came again, and Rebecca looked over her shoulder toward the bathroom door. Nana was in there getting ready for bed. Rebecca hoped she couldn’t hear the racket.

Rebecca frowned and looked out the peep hole at the dark figure on the porch. She snapped on the porch light, and a blond head cringed away from the brightness with a grimace, but remained still. He kicked at the door again, and Rebecca could see why. The bloody, unconscious body of the dark-haired boy who had just that afternoon come to get his “lucky pencil” from her filled his arms.

“Turn off that light! Do you want the entire neighborhood to see us?” the boy out on the porch spat. “I don’t know about you, but that’s something I’d like to avoid!”

Rebecca had to agree. She flicked the porch light off before opening the door.

“That’s better,” the tall, skinny blond boy said. He waited a moment, standing there, looking at Rebecca and the interior of the house past her.

When she just stared at him, he spoke again. “Well? Come on, Healer. .I can’t stand around here all night!”

“What—” Rebecca began.

“If friend ye are and healing ye seek, enter this place and my blessing keep!”Rebecca whirled around at the sound of her nana’s voice, stronger and clearer than it had been in years.

Nana was clad in her pink bathrobe and matching slippers. Her wet hair clung to her neck and shoulders.

The blond boy made a relieved noise of obvious gratitude and gave Rebecca an irritated glare as he shouldered his way past her. He strode into the living room with Ryan, muttering under his breath.

“My apologies, Lady Healer,” the blond boy said as he reached Nana.

“You were closest. The entrance was sealed or I would have used it—” Nana’s raised hand cut him off and she reached for a long-disused candle lantern sitting on the mantelpiece above the hearth.

Why would she grab that thing? It’s just an old decoration. Something of Grand-pop’s?
“Take him up,” Nana ordered, and followed the boy up the staircase.

Nana didn’t falter on the stairs as she usually did, leaving Rebecca standing dumbstruck in the open doorway.

Remembering herself, Rebecca closed and locked the front door before she ran up the stairs after her nana.

She just caught a glimpse of the hem of Nana’s pink robe disappear-ing through the door at the end of the upstairs hall. That was a linen closet.

What...?

Reaching the door, Rebecca found that the shelves of the linen closet weren’t shelves at all. They were like those spooky fake bookcases in movies with haunted houses, now pushed aside to reveal a hidden passage.

Wow. She’d known this house was old and creepy—it had been in the family for generations—but a secret passageway? Really? That was just like something out of
Nancy Drew
! She hesitated only a moment before going through after her nana.

“My apologies, Martha,” the blond boy said, his voice faint as it carried from within the hidden passage. His tone was almost reverent. Rebecca had never heard anyone speak that way, to her nana or anyone else. “I thought...

her mark...she looked so surprised. Isn’t she trained?” Martha. The boy had called Nana “Martha.” No one did that...except Nana’s old friends, and that boy didn’t look like he was even old enough to be out of school. He didn’t go to
her
school though. That was for certain.

She’d remember a guy that hot.

“She’s not of age,” she heard Nana reply. “Set him down so I can have a look. Do something about the bed, would you? It’s been a long time since I’ve been up here.”

Was that her
nana
talking like that? Like she’d suddenly...gotten better? Nana hadn’t sounded that sure of herself in a long time, and certainly hadn’t used that many words in that normal a way for more than three years.

“She’s here, listening to us,” the blond boy said. “Come on out, Acolyte.

You may as well see what’s going on firsthand.” Rebecca stepped out from the secret passage and into the light of the candle lamp that had somehow become lit. Funny, Rebecca couldn’t remember if that thing had even had a candle in it.

Her nana barely looked at her as Nana bent to examine Ryan, peering into his eyes and glancing at his clothed body.

“His clothes,” Nana ordered.

The blond boy’s hand moved and Ryan’s clothes vanished instantly, except his underwear. Rebecca’s eyes widened and she flattened herself against the wall. The clothes just—what was going on?

Nana glanced at the blond boy, arching an eyebrow.

“Afford the boy
some
modesty, Martha,” he said smoothly. “None of his injuries are around his middle.”

“And you bit him as well!” Nana exclaimed with a gasp as she turned Ryan’s head toward her, revealing two small punctures on the boy’s neck.

She reached to touch them. “Sydney! Why would you...it
was
you...! Oh!” Rebecca watched, fascinated, as Nana’s eyes lingered on the second wound on Ryan’s bleeding thigh, below the band of his briefs. Her fingers prodded the injury, and the unconscious Ryan cried out in protest.

“Rebecca, go into my room,” Nana said in a voice that broached no argument. “In the closet, on the top shelf, you’ll see a leather suitcase. The one I always told you was full of old pictures? Bring that here, and fast. Go!” Too stunned to do anything but follow orders, Rebecca nodded and ran back to the passageway and down the stairs, returning quickly with the case Nana wanted. The whole time questions ran through Rebecca’s mind.

What had the blond boy—Sydney—meant when he said Nana was closest?

Closest to what? And he would have used the entrance but it was sealed?

What entrance? How was Nana acting like her old self,
and
as though this kind of thing happened every day? Entering the hidden room again, Rebecca passed the case to her nana.

“Thank you,” Nana said in that same, calm voice. She reached for the case and opened it, pulling out various things out as she spoke again to Rebecca.