Hades

to burst into tears. “Thanks for your help,” I said rapidly. “I’m fine. Really.”

As I walked away from him, one question kept sounding in my head, loud and clear. Where was Xavier? Something was wrong. I could feel it. Every celestial instinct warned me that we needed to get out of here. Fast.

I found a weeping willow in the front yard and leaned against its sturdy trunk. I could see Ben still standing by the front porch looking at me with an expression of concern mingled with confusion. But I couldn’t worry about having offended Ben now. I had more important things to think about. Could it seriously be happening again? Could demons have returned to Venus Cove? I knew for a fact that there was no more evil in this place. Gabriel and Ivy had seen to that. Jake had been banished — I’d seen raging tongues of fire consume him. He couldn’t be back. But why was every hair on my body standing on end? Why were chills coursing through my veins like tiny lightning bolts?

I felt as if I were being hunted. From where I stood alone on the gravel drive, I had an uninterrupted view of the back fields and the thick woodland beyond. I could see the scarecrow in the paddock, his head drooping onto his chest. I hoped Xavier was on his way back from the lake. I knew as soon as I saw him my fear would ebb away like a receding tide. Together we were strong and could protect each other. I needed to find him.

Just then, a gust of wind set the dry grass rustling. The scarecrow’s clothing began to flap and its head snapped up, staring directly at me with its black button eyes. My heart somersaulted in my chest and I let out a piercing scream. I spun on my heels and started back toward the house.

I didn’t get far before colliding with someone.

“Whoa, take it easy,” said a boy, hopping lightly to one side. “What’s up? You look kind of freaked out.”

His speech was far too slurred for a demon’s, and when I glanced up, I saw he didn’t look like one either. He wasn’t wearing a costume and I recognized him vaguely from somewhere. My panic subsided a little when I realized it was Ryan Robertson, Molly’s former prom date. He was standing with a huddle of people who had gathered outside the front porch. A half-consumed cigarette dangled from his hand. The group regarded me with sluggish disinterest. There was a sharp, bitter scent in the air that I couldn’t identify, but was strangely pungent.

I lifted a hand to my cheek, felt it burning hot, and was grateful for the cool night air against my skin. “I’m okay,” I said, trying to sound convincing. The last thing I wanted to do was raise unnecessary alarm based on my own misgivings.

“That’s good.” Ryan closed his eyes dreamily. “I wouldn’t want you to be not okay, if you see what I mean.” I frowned; he wasn’t sounding entirely coherent. Was it me, I wondered? Was I going completely crazy or was this bizarre party to blame?

I jumped when the screen door slammed. Molly appeared on the porch.

“Beth, there you are!” She seemed relieved to see me and leapt down the steps. “Way to freak me out! I didn’t know where you’d gone.” Her gaze swept disdainfully over Ryan and his cohort. “What are you doing with them?”

“Ryan was just helping me,” I mumbled.

“I’m a helpful person,” Ryan declared indignantly.

Molly caught sight of the hand-rolled cigarette in his hand. “Are you high?” she demanded as she thumped his shoulder.

“Not high,” Ryan clarified. “I believe the term is greened out.”

“You loser!” Molly erupted. “You’re supposed to be driving me home. No way am I spending the night in this creepy dump.”

“Quit your whining, I drive better high,” Ryan said. “Sharpens my senses. By the way, I think I need a bucket ….”

“If you’re gonna puke, don’t do it near me,” Molly snapped.

“I think we should call it a night,” I said to her. “Will you help me find Xavier?” My suggestion was met with a swell of protest from Ryan and his friends.

“Sure,” said Molly, rolling her eyes at them. “I doubt tonight could get any weirder.”

We had just headed back toward the house in search of Xavier when the sound of a motorcycle tearing through the grass caused us to turn around. There was something urgent about the way it screamed to a halt in front of us, spraying gravel through the air. Molly shielded her eyes against the glow of the headlights. The rider slid off in one easy movement but left the engine running. He was dressed casually in a worn aviator-style leather jacket and backward baseball cap. I recognized the tall, well-built boy immediately as Wesley Cowan. Xavier and I passed his house every Friday afternoon on our way home from school. Wes would inevitably be crouched in his driveway polishing his dad’s old Merc in preparation for a weekend of partying. Wes played on Xavier’s polo team and I knew he numbered among his closest friends. Like Xavier, Wes was one of the hardest boys to rattle. There was very little that succeeded in shaking his air of confidence. It was surprising to see him now with his shirt muddy and his face creased with worry.

Instinctively Molly reached out to grab his arm.

“Wes, what’s wrong?”

His chest heaved as he struggled to get the words out. “There’s been an accident at the lake,” he gasped. “Someone call 911!”

Ryan and his friends sobered in an instant, collectively withdrawing cell phones from their pockets.

“No reception,” Ryan announced after a few minutes of trying. He shook his cell in frustration and cursed under his breath. “We must be out of range.”

“What happened?” Molly asked.

Before he spoke, Wesley threw me a strange look; it was almost imploring, like he was seeking my forgiveness.

“We dared him to dive-bomb from a tree but there were rocks in the water. He hit his head. He won’t wake up.”

As he spoke, his gaze never left my face. Why was he singling me out like this? I’d remained silent, but now a cold panic seized me, wrapping around me like icy fingers. It wasn’t Xavier. It couldn’t be Xavier. Xavier was the responsible one who had gone down there to keep an eye on the others. Xavier was probably down there right now, using his first-aid training until help arrived. But I knew my heart wasn’t going to stop pounding until I knew for certain. Someone else asked the question I couldn’t bring myself to utter.

“Who’s hurt?”

Wesley’s eyes looked guilt ridden and he hesitated a fraction too long, so I knew the answer before he spoke the name out loud.

“Woods.” It came out as a bland statement of fact, devoid of emotion, which didn’t strike me as odd until later when I replayed the scene in my head. But in that moment, all I could feel were my legs giving way beneath me. My worst fear — much greater than anything happening to me — was that any harm should come to Xavier, and now it had just come true. For a second it was too much to take in and I sagged helplessly against Ryan, who tried to hold me up, despite his own lack of balance. So this was what Xavier and I got as reward for spending time apart. I couldn’t believe fate could be so cruel. The one night our paths diverged he ended up unconscious. Wes put his head in his hands and groaned.

“Man, we are so screwed.”

“Was he drunk?” Ryan asked.

“Course he was,” Wes snapped. “We all were.”

In all the time we’d been together I’d never known Xavier to have more than a couple of beers. I’d never seen him touch hard liquor; he thought it was irresponsible. I couldn’t reconcile the image of him drunk and reckless in my head. It didn’t add up.

“No,” I said numbly. “Xavier doesn’t drink.”

“Yeah? Well, there’s a first time for everything.”

“Shut up and call an ambulance!” Molly screeched. Then I felt her arm around my shoulder and her auburn curls brushed my cheek as she leaned her head against mine. “It’s okay, Bethie, he’ll be okay,” she said.

Wesley watched us. His panic seemed to have transformed into a perverse delight in my distress. Others had gathered now and everyone had an opinion to voice on the best course of action. Their voices combined to create a meaningless babble.

“How bad is it? Should we try getting him to a doctor?”