Hold Me Closer, Necromancer - Lish McBride [45]
I crossed my arms and leaned against the pantry door with my shoulder, trying to avoid putting pressure on my back. All the riding in the car had irritated it. I nodded at Ramon. “Just open the bag.”
Ramon reached for it, but when Haley entered, he hesitated. He glanced from her to me, questioning.
Part of me thought I should keep Haley out of it. She was still young, and this whole thing was dangerous. Yet keeping secrets hadn’t really helped me so far, and something told me that the more Haley knew, the safer she might be. She’d probably figure it out anyway.
“Go ahead,” I said. “No more family secrets.”
From the corner of my eye, I could see my mom glance sharply at me, but I didn’t look over. I kept my eye on the bag. Ramon reached over and flicked open the clasp.
“Oh, thank God,” Brooke said. “It was starting to smell like hot yak feet in here.”
I watched my mom and Haley very carefully. Haley looked startled for a second, but quickly recovered. Neither seemed as shocked or as freaked out as I had anticipated.
Haley crouched a little and looked in the bag. She smiled brightly. “Oh, hey, Brooke. Sorry about, well, you know.” She drew her finger swiftly across her throat.
“Thanks.” Brooke smiled at my sister. “How’s school?”
“It’s okay. You know, the usual. Hey, so what’s it like?”
I kept an eye on my mom and watched as she paled a little.
“Haley, why don’t you take Ramon and Brooke into the living room? Your brother and I need to talk.” Despite her obvious stress, my mom still managed to pour the hot chocolate into mugs, cover them with fresh whipped cream and a pinch of cayenne, and add a cinnamon stick to them. She was like the Jedi master of hot chocolate.
Haley shrugged and Ramon grabbed Brooke’s bag. As my sister followed Ramon into the living room, a mug in each hand, she shot me a look that clearly said that I’d better fill her in later.
My mom sat down at the table and sipped her hot chocolate, leaving a full mug for me on the counter. I stayed standing. She closed her eyes. “Oh, Sam, how could you?” she whispered.
Out of all the things I thought she might say, that was not on the list. “What do you mean, how could I?” I said, voice rising. “You think I did this?”
She blinked at me. “You brought me your friend’s head in a bowling bag, honey. What did you expect me to think?”
“I expect you to know I’m not a killer,” I said through gritted teeth. See? I wasn’t yelling.
“I didn’t think that.” She shifted a little in her seat. “Not really. Unless it was an accident?” She raised her eyes to mine.
“Yeah, I was slicing tomatoes and accidentally sliced off my friend’s head. Mom, please. I didn’t kill Brooke,” I said firmly.
“Okay,” she said, “but you still need to explain why you brought her back. Brooke’s head is evidence. Not to mention the trauma the poor girl has gone through.” She shook her head. “It would’ve been kinder if you’d left her…in peace.” My mom looked very uncomfortable with the whole topic.
I closed my eyes and leaned against the pantry door. “I didn’t bring her back. Somebody else did. I had nothing to do with Brooke.” I turned away so all I could see was the stove. Looking at my mom was making me angry, and I needed to get past that. Douglas’s time limit was tick tick ticking in my mind, and I didn’t have time to yell and scream. If I survived, I could be angry then. I softened my voice. “But you might want to explain why you immediately assumed I had something to do with Brooke’s mini resurrection.” I tossed my protection bag onto the table. “And you can start by explaining what’s in that bag and who bound me.”
My mom’s shoulders slumped like I’d taken all the air out of her. Part of me delighted in the sight, happy that I’d gotten a little revenge. A larger part of me felt like crap. No son likes to see that look on his mom’s face and know he caused it. I joined her at the table, grabbing my hot chocolate on the way. “I’m sorry.”
The smile my mother gave me was a little watery. “No, you’re not.”
“Okay, no I