When Alek disappears into the building, I slump against the wall and stare up at the cloudy night sky. I’d run, but I don’t have the energy. Rubbing my cold hand over my face, I consider whether Alek just saved my life. And if he did, from what? Running could be a bigger mistake; what if there’s more like her?
A flustered-looking Alek steps out of the pub, my jacket and bag scrunched in his hand. “Come on.”
I hesitate, expecting Finn to follow him out. Alek’s arrival and my decision to leave with him must seem odd. Finn doesn’t appear and I wonder what their conversation entailed because last time, their exchange wasn’t polite.
In the split-second decision that follows, I don’t realise the choice I’m making. “Okay. Take me home.”
***
Alek drives a beaten-up white sedan, which doesn’t match his image as well as a motorbike might. Why am I thinking things like that? He opens the door for me, surveying round us as he closes it. Inside, I rub my arms. Alek puts my jacket on the back seat and I don’t have the energy to reach for it.
“How do you feel now?” asks Alek, turning the car ignition.
“Like I could sleep for a week.” I snuggle down in the seat.
“No, you can’t do that,” says Alex tersely.
I cough a laugh, and then wince at the pain the movement sends through my chest. “I can’t sleep?”
“Stay awake.” Alek leans over, flips the air temperature as low as it can go and turns the output to max.
Goosebumps spring up on my arm. “What the hell? It’s freezing!”
“Like I said, stay awake.”
Halfway home and fed up with shivering, I turn the temperature up. Alek immediately turns it back down. I repeat the action.
“Do you want me to slap your hand?” he growls.
“Excuse me?”
Alek turns the air back to the lowest temperature. “If you fall asleep now, you might not like where you are when you wake up.”
I shrink back in my seat, unsure now whether I should’ve stayed with Finn instead. His veiled threat tightens my chest further and I glance at the door handle. Maybe if we stop at traffic lights, I could get out.
And go where?
***
By the time we reach the house, the woozy feeling is edging my consciousness into the grey fog again. I stumble through the front door and make a beeline for the sofa, flopping onto it like I’m drunk. I just want to sleep; what is his problem?
“Rose!” Alek storms over and stands over me. He’s moving his fingers as if he wants to touch me but won’t. “Sit up! Before you go to sleep.”
“I’m too tired…” I mumble.
“Lizzie!” he yells.
Nobody responds. I yawn and huddle against the back of the sofa, wishing I had a blanket. At least my chest doesn’t hurt as much now. The red-haired girl comes into the room, and I smile weakly at her. Alek turns to follow my line of vision.
“Is she going?” asks Clarissa. “She can’t go yet.”
Alek says nothing and turns back to me. “Don’t let her touch you.”
“Why would she touch me?”
Alek sits on the arm of the chair and takes off his jacket, eyes fixed on Clarissa.
Her eyes flick between us. “She can’t go yet!”
“She’s not going anywhere.”
Folding her arms across her chest, Clarissa shakes her hair back over her shoulders. “You don’t need her right now. She can help me.”
“No, she can’t! Look at her!”
The girl edges closer and peers at me. “She’s faded.” Then she looks at Alek. “And you’re stronger. Did you do it? Why?”
“I haven’t touched her! And nor should you…” His voice growls enough of a warning the girl backs off.
“But you’ll share her? Lizzie said you’d help me do what I needed and I can’t do that on my own. I need...”
“Just fuck off,” he interrupts.
Clarissa snorts at him. Alek stands, moving toward her. “It wasn’t me; it was one of you. The one responsible has gone now. For good. And if you don’t leave me alone, you’ll be next.”
The pale girl’s face turns whiter, and she steps back. “No. You didn’t…wouldn’t.”
“Try me.”
Throughout the conversation, my hearing dulls and keeping my eyes open is gradually more difficult. Why can’t I go to sleep? Alek and the girl continue their mysterious conversation about me, their words adding to the sensation I’m dreaming. Being talked about as if I’m some kind of commodity to be shared would normally get me up and yelling at them, but I can’t be bothered. The pain subsides as my mind blackens and sleep approaches.