Genevieve yawned, but refused to go to bed
yet. Stretched out on her bed, head propped up on her hands, she
went through the book from Michael page by page, reading what little was
there, studying the pictures, wishing she spoke about six other languages
so at least she could understand it all. Whoever put the book
together clearly put a lot of time into it--one would think he'd have the
sense to add some translations.
Beside her, Penny lay on her side,
eyes sleepy but remaining open, watching as Gen turned the pages.
Presumably afraid she was going to miss something of dire importance, she
fought off sleep and waited for Genevieve to announce it was finally time
for bed.
"A few more minutes, girl," Gen replied to her dog's
unasked question, yawning again in spite of her resolve not to.
Michael had been right about the nightmares--very right. No matter
how exhausted she got, some nights she was afraid to sleep. The
nightmares didn't stop come morning—no, they haunted her all day long, and
filled her with dread, made her start at every little noise. As a
result, she ended up laying in bed until dawn rolled around nearly every
night, only finally sleeping when she couldn't keep her eyes open any
longer. And so she did what she could to occupy her brain while she
was awake.
What she hadn't told anyone was how difficult it was
finding something to do during the long nights when even her art wasn't
interesting her anymore. Before, that was all she had--all she
really cared about. Losing herself in a sketch or painting had
calmed her mind when she was worried, occupied her brain when she was
bored, given her reason to procrastinate doing actual school work.
But now the muse was gone. She took no pleasure in it, found no
comfort...
There was a quiet, slow knock at her door.
"Yeah?" Gen looked up to see her father open the door,
standing in his pyjamas and rubbing at his eyes.
"It's late--why
are you still up, Genny?"
She glanced at the clock to see it was
just after two in the morning, then shrugged. "Can't sleep."
"Have you even tried?"
She realized then that she hadn't
even changed into her nightshirt, and still wore the clothes she had on
when leaving for school in the morning.
"You know I don't sleep
much," she said quickly, closing the book.
"Now that's an outright
lie--you sleep all the time." He stepped in the room and closed the
door softly behind him, probably to keep from waking her mom, then took a
seat in the rattan chair across from Gen's bed. "Your mother used to
get up an extra hour early every morning just to spend it trying to get
you up for daycare."
"But I'm not in daycare anymore," she said,
pulling herself into a sitting position and crossing her legs.
"Things change."
"Some things don't, such as your mother being
furious you didn't get home until eleven tonight."
"Shit, I
thought you guys were asleep!"
Leo Weist looked vaguely amused at
this. "I was until your mother woke me up to tell me you just got
home and that I should go and ground you for it."
"So I'm
grounded?"
So much for Peyton's welcome
party.
"That depends on where you were."
"I...I was hanging out
with Sage," she said, which was at least a partial truth.
"She was
Hayden's girlfriend, right?"
Gen nodded.
"And how's she
doing?"
"I don't think she's good, Dad," she said honestly.
"But she doesn't really talk to us, so it's hard to know."
"She
probably just needs some time to heal. And it's important that you
be there for her, just in case she decides she needs you."
"But is
that really true?" she said, frowning. "Hayden was my friend, but he
was her boyfriend. She really loved him and now he's gone...can
anything actually help that?"
Her father sighed, and she knew she
probably wouldn't like what he was about to tell her. Clearly, he
knew it too--his tone was laboured, as if trying to be delicate, but not
sure how. It was rare they had a serious discussion about anything,
and Gen imagined it was taking all his parenting instincts to get him
through this one.
"Genny, you're young...and I know you won't
believe this now... But when you're in high school, everything seems
very serious. Very real. But you find, when you're older, that
things are different. It's easier to move on."
"You're
saying Sage and Hayden weren't really in love?" she accused.
He
shifted his gaze and grinned slightly. "You know, you look exactly
like your mother when you're ready to jump down my throat about
something."
"Don't change the subject," she said, realizing that
too made her sound like her mother, but not really caring at that
moment. "You don't think they really loved each other?"
"I
never said that," he corrected her. "I said people change.
Maybe they would have gone off to college, but still stayed
together. Maybe not. But she's only sixteen. It will
take time to heal, but eventually there will be other boys, and other
people to love."
"You're only forty-three--if Mom died, would you
remarry?"
"That's not the same thing, Genny. I've been
married to your mom for nearly twenty years--"
"So? Would
you remarry or not?"
"Honestly?"
She gave him a look that
clearly said, "Duh."
"Possibly. Your mom and I have
discussed it before, and we decided we both want one another to be
happy--"
"Whatever--I don't believe that. I'd want my
girlfriend to be miserable without me."
"Ah, what a happy woman
you will someday make someone."
"It's just that..."
Now how
to phrase this in a way that doesn't make me sound
crazy?
"There was a story I heard today."
"Story?"
"Yeah, in
English class," she said quickly. "Can't remember the author.
But it was about a woman who was immortal and she fell in love with this
guy who she then looked for every time he was reincarnated. And they
only ever see each other for a few years, but they're like soul mates or
something."
"I think that was actually a Paula Cole music video,
dear. You're mother liked her."
Gen made a face.
"Who? God, you're old. Anyway, the point of the story is that
they're so in love that they keep meeting again and again."
"Well,
like you said, it's a story. I don't think things work like that."
"But it's not...I mean, it's a very
real story. Like it could
have happened. Don't you think that's possible?"
"That some
woman out there is immortal?"
"No--that it's possible to love
someone all that time."
"I think you and your future wife will be
just like that, Genny," her father said, smiling kindly if not slightly
patronising. "Now this is about as philosophical as I get after
midnight, but anything else before I urge you to retire for the night?"
"No."
"And are you going to sleep now?"
"Yeah,
yeah," she muttered.
"Goodnight, Genny."
"'Night Dad."
Her father left, closing the door behind him. Gen stretched
out on her stomach again and pulled out the book once more.
The
stories of her other selves were few. Sage's book had been far more
full, but then apparently people didn't think to kill warrior women as
often as they did witches. Regardless, the lack of contents of the
book had actually made an excellent case for not telling anyone about what
she was. Not that she assumed the O.P.P.--or even R.C.M.P.--would
permit her to be burned at the stake or whatever, but she'd prefer not to
take any chances.
A section of the book had nothing but sketches
on pages so old she thought they might disintegrate should she touch them,
kept in sealed plastic bags that were then pasted to the pages.
Towards the end, she even found a black and white photograph, scratched
and a tad overexposed. None of the girls were ever over twenty-five,
though. Part of her tried come up with logical explanations as to
why none of them was any older, she knew the truth...
They didn't
actually
live any longer.
Some girls couldn't have been
more than fourteen... Already, she had outlived some of her former
selves, and the very thought chilled her through and through.
Perhaps it would have been better if Michael hadn't shared these books
with them after all.
She closed the book, deciding whether she was
tired or not, she couldn't look at the pictures any more. She set it
aside on her nightstand, swiftly changed into a tank top and pyjama
bottoms, then settled in bed. Penny stood and walked in a few
circles until she apparently found the place she wanted, then flopped back
down at the bottom of the bed and promptly passed out. Gen reached
over and flipped out the light.
Eyes wide open, she stared up at
the ceiling for a long time. Sleep came for her, tried to pull her
along, but gave up and went for someone else, and once again, Gen was left
alone.
She turned onto her side with a sigh, hoping maybe the
change of scenery might help her drift off. Instead, her gaze
settled on the book Michael had given her. It might not have had a
face, but still it seemed to be staring back at her, threatening her with
tales of the dead girls she once lived as.
Gen grabbed the book
and dropped it on the floor, then took the pile of clothes she had been
wearing the day before and cast them over top.
Satisfied that "out
of sight, out of mind" might actually work in this instance, Genevieve
closed her eyes and hoped that sleep would drop by for her again soon.
God, it was cold. She sucked in a deep breathe
of icy air and nearly choked.
"You're not strong enough," said a
woman's voice.
Genevieve looked around, but didn't see
anyone... Nothing but snow all around her--she was alone.
"And you never will be until you start listening to me."
That voice...it was so near...
"Who are you?" she
whispered, gaze darting around for any sign of life beyond her own.
"Who do you think?"
As the words left her mouth, Gen
realized all this time she'd been speaking--speaking to herself in a voice
that sounded far different from her own.
Somewhere behind her, Gen
heard snow crunching under foot. Someone drew near, and though she
wanted to look, instinct warned her not to.
"What do I do?" she
whispered, the wind growing colder and colder, bitterly blasting her face
and taking her breath away. She squeezed her eyes closed as the
footsteps drew closer...
"Do you trust me?" said the other voice
from her lips.
The footsteps stopped just behind her. She
heard heavy breathing now--he was so close. Her own breathing had
ceased completely, her thoughts drowned out by her pounding heart.
"Yes," she whispered.
Long seconds seemed to pass without
anything happening. And then the snow crunched again, as if whoever
was behind her had shifted his weight, preparing for something...
The wind went still. "Move," said the woman's voice.
Genevieve felt a force push her forward, and then her legs were
moving, one after the other, trudging through the snow.
"Where do
I go?" she cried, looking around as she ran, seeing nothing but rolling
hills of snow in every direction.
"Keep going," was her answer,
and so she did, running through snow that reached mid-calf, all to get
away from an assailant she didn't see. She slipped now and then, her
foot catching in a snow drift or twisting on the rough terrain, but terror
lent her speed. She pushed on, farther and farther, into the white
nothingness, until she could run no more.
Gen crumpled into a heap
in the snow, gasping from lack of breath, shivering as the sweat she'd
built up running turned to ice suddenly. She swung her head around,
gaze travelling across the snow. No one followed--she was alone...
Except for a single figure that seemed to come out of nowhere and
move toward her.
She was dressed as Gen had seen her before, as
though she'd stepped out of another time. The wind picked up,
rustling her long dress and yellow hair, but the bitter cold didn't seem
to bother her in the least. She stopped next to Genevieve and
dropped onto her knees in the snow in front of her.
"Who are you?"
Gen repeated, still unable to wrap her brain around the fact she was
staring at herself.
"I think you know by now," the other her said.
"Why are you here?"
"Because you're weak and you need me."
She spoke coldly--matter of factly--and nowhere near as nice as
Gen would have expected her to be to herself.
"Who was after me?"
she asked, but her doppelganger only smiled. "Who's trying to kill
me!"
"I think a better question would be who isn't trying to kill
you. The enemy comes from all sides, and it's not only The Brethren
you have to worry about."
"But that man--"
"
He can only hurt you when you fail to remember who
you are."
"Who am I!"
The other Genevieve leaned in close
to whisper. "You'll find out."
Gen blinked, and the other
her was gone. Not only that, but she no longer knelt in the
snow--instead she was standing, once more on that same hilltop,
overlooking a village in the distance.
The snow crunched beneath
heavy boots behind her. He was there, and there was nothing she
could do about it.
He can only hurt you when you fail to remember
who you are. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to
remember, to know what the other woman had been talking about, but no
memory came to her.
A hand went to her waist. She bit down
on her lip until the point she tasted blood, knowing what would happen
next but unable to force her legs to move.
Long seconds passed,
and for a moment she thought she might be wrong--that he might not hurt
her after all...
And then she felt the knife plunge in her side.
*~*~*
A cool autumn wind stirred her hair and nipped at her
skin, but Genevieve failed to notice. Dark-rimmed eyes stared
blankly at the open textbook in front of her, skimming the same sentence
again and again without reading it.
She sat on a bench outside the
school, alone, deciding that, after sleeping in and missing her first few
classes, she didn't much care about attending the rest of them.
"Gen?"
She looked up slowly, the familiar voice taking a
few seconds to reach her mind.
"Mer."
Meredith stood just
a few feet away holding her jacket in her arms and with a knapsack slung
over one shoulder. She offered a half smile, then stepped forward
with care. "I was on my way to Bio and saw you through the
window. Missed you in class today."
Gen's eyes dropped to
the book once more, then she snapped the cover closed and sighed.
"Slept in."
"Have a spare right now?"
Gen knew full well
Merri had seen her schedule and was aware she didn't have any spare
periods, but couldn't find it in her to be annoyed at the pointed
question.
"Got here, but...I don't know, I just didn't feel like
going."
Meredith sat down beside her, slipping on her thin fall
coat and shivering as the wind blew. "You remember we've got
Peyton's 'Welcome to Newhaven' part tonight, right?"
"Shit," Gen
muttered, momentarily forgetting her troubles to recall it was in fact
Friday, and they had all planned to go out that night. Unless one
was willing to trek to Toronto, there wasn't anywhere to go but a club
outside of town called
On The Map. Peyton immediately
agreed to go when they had proposed the idea, and the upcoming group
"date" had been about the only thing Gen had looked forward to in
weeks. "Everything still on?"
"Yeah…more or less."
"Great—what's the problem?"
"Well, Peyton asked like a
dozen times today if you would still be there tonight." Meredith
gave her a little grin.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah. So you'd
better be there. And it's still me, and Levi said Stephie would
probably go. But now there are a couple of guys from the Phoenixes
who wanted to come, and then someone in class overheard, and these two
girls were all over Levi, insisting they wanted to go too."
Gen
rolled her eyes at the thought. As terrible as the Newhaven
Phoenixes were, they still had a following, as did each of the
players. And since Hayden's death...well, it was clear there were
plenty of girls ready to give him a shoulder to cry on--or anything else,
if need be.
"So there'll be a few more people there than we
thought. Sound okay?"
"Sure." It didn't seem to matter
much if it
didn't seem okay since plans had already been set, but
she wasn't about to complain. The night out would be good...
"Now are you going to tell me what's wrong?"
Gen looked up
to catch Merri's steady gaze, then shifted nervously and shrugged.
She didn't even see the point in the conversation--the damn woman was
basically psychic anyway. She probably already knew the answer.
"Just don't sleep much. I'm sure Michael told you."
Merri sighed heavily. "He doesn't tell me everything, Gen."
"He tells you more than he tells us."
"Which I might point
out still isn't much. The guy is..." She shook her head.
"He's just impossible to read. Every time he speaks, I don't know if
it's the truth or complete bullshit. He'll tell me enough to keep me
thinking he's being honest, but that's as far as it goes. I swear."
Genevieve met her friend's eyes then, and was pretty sure she was
telling the truth. Of course, one could never tell with Merri, and
she found it particularly ironic on this occasion when she was lamenting
the dishonestly of Michael. But she had to trust someone, and that
person might as well be Meredith.
At least Merri didn't almost
leave me to die... "Mer...I wanna tell you something."
Merri offered another smile. "Anything."
"Do you...I
don't know, ever have weird dreams?"
"Constantly."
"Ones
that..." God, she was going to sound insane if she ever actually
forced the words out. "Ones that are different, though? Dreams
that aren't normal...kind of like visions?"
Merri grinned at that,
as if relaxed, but Gen didn't find it comforting. "I'm a Seer--I
have dreams that are visions of the future all the time--"
"No...not the future. Visions of the past."
A slight
frown crossed Merri's face, but she didn't comment. "Like memories?"
"If they're memories, they're not recent ones. I..."
Deep
breath, Gen... Even if Merri couldn't help her, maybe
she'd feel better just saying it out loud... "I had a dream last
night. I've had it before—once Monday night too." She tried
not to let the memories come back to her in full, but terror rushed over
her once more. Shivering, Gen cast a quick glance over her shoulder,
certain someone would be standing there behind her, ready to stab her
again. Though her rational mind found it unsurprising that they
remained alone, the rest of her couldn't shake the feelings from her
dream.
"Gen, you don't need to tell me if--" Merri started, but
Genevieve shook her head.
"It's okay. In the dream...I'm
standing on a hill. It's really snowy and I can see this tiny town
in the distance. But everything else is snow. I'm just
standing there...and I'm not alone. Someone is there behind me...a
man...
"And I know him. That's the thing that gets
me--somehow, I know who he is, and though I don't remember now, in the
dream I know why he's there."
She swallowed hard as a lump formed
in her throat and stared at the empty space in front of her. "And
then he kills me. Just like that. Stabs me in the side, and
when I fall down, he slashes my throat."
"That's...creepy," Merri
said, her frown deepening.
"Michael gave us those books on Monday,
and I got thinking... Now that I know I've lived other lives, I
think maybe it really happened. And if it did...Mer, what if he's
still out there? Somehow...I mean, it's possible. And I'm
scared he's going to try to kill me...again. I looked through that
book and these girls...these girls were all so young--there aren't any
stories of them when they're older. I think they all...I mean I
died. Really young."
"So did some of the girls in my book,"
Meredith said quickly. "But people were afraid of others that could
do what we can, especially women—"
"Except no one's been burned at
the stake or whatever terribly lately. There was a photograph in my
book, under a hundred years old. Why didn’t she live to be really
old? What if the guy from my dream killed her?"
Silence took
up between them. Merri's gaze drifted off, as she seemed to be
concentrating on something, meanwhile Gen didn't feel the slightest bit
better after finally speaking her thoughts aloud.
"Is there
anything else in the dream?" Merri asked suddenly.
"Well...the
three times I remember having it, there's this other girl there. She
looks like me, but she's not. She's...stronger, I guess.
Confident. I think she's me in one of my other lives. She says
I have to remember who I am."
"Have you had any problems with
spells?"
"If by 'problems' you mean 'not tried any'..."
"Gen--"
"You don't understand!" Genevieve interrupted, her
voice breaking. "And neither does Michael. I don't even know
what I did to those guys that day--and I know they were going to kill us
and all, but... What if I do something and I can't control it?
Fuck--three weeks ago I was scared this stuff wasn't even gonna work, and
now--"
"You just need to practice," Merri said, her calm voice
smoothing some of Gen's rising nerves. "Keep working with the small
stuff, let Michael guide you--"
"Yeah, 'cause Michael's been a
really great mentor thus far. He's totally my Yoda." She
rolled her eyes for effect, and Merri chuckled.
"Okay, forget
Michael then. I'll help you--I'll be your old, wrinkly green
guy. While Sage and Michael work together, you and me can meditate
and work on some simple spells. I can't do any of them, obviously,
but I can help you with focusing."
"Really?"
"Of
course. No more mysterious spells that Michael hasn't explained to
you ahead of time, nothing dangerous. Just simple stuff. I'm
sure he won't mind."
Gen gave her a look.
"Much," Merri
added with a grin. "Wanna hit your last class or head over to
Michael's now?"
"Uh, neither?"
"Sit out here then?"
"No...Michael's, I guess." The two stood and began the
familiar walk away from the school property towards Michael's.
"Mer...can I ask you something else?"
"Sure."
"Have..." Gen thought about her dream for a moment.
"Have you ever heard of 'The Brethren?' Like has Michael ever said
anything about them?"
"No, what is it?"
"I don't
know...but the girl that looked like me in the dream mentioned them.
She said they weren't the only ones I should worry about."
"Maybe
they were the guys who came after us before?"
"Maybe... Do
you think you can find out? From Michael, I mean?"
Meredith
didn't say anything for several long moments. "I don't know,
Gen. He isn't always very...forthcoming. Maybe we can look
into it ourselves first?"
"Like Nancy Drew?"
"I was
thinking a little more attitude."
"Veronica Mars it is,
then. Should we make some calls to people while using fake accents
and start bugging phones?"
"Would you even know who to call?"
This sneaking around idea was going to be difficult if Meredith
couldn't get in the spirit of things. "Well, no," Gen
admitted. "So why don't we skip Michael's and head to my
place? Check the internet? I'm sure there's something on
there…"
Apparently, merely Googling "brethren" wasn't
helpful as Genevieve thought it might be.
She hadn't completely
eliminated the possibility that the name referred to one of the thousands
of church groups that came up, but she and Merri couldn't be
certain. And since the thought of visiting those thousands of pages
destroyed any desire she had to know who exactly the Brethren were, the
girls decided that perhaps they could first think of some better ways to
investigate before actually investigating. Of course, three hours of
going through different search engines could wipe out anyone's enthusiasm.
Adding to their difficulty in getting anything accomplished was
Genevieve running to the phone every time it rang—in case it was the
school informing her mother of her absence—and then keeping her father
from randomly walking into her bedroom to check up on them and tell
Meredith lame jokes, as he was fond of doing when she had friends
over. If they did anymore snooping into the Brethren, they'd have to
go to Merri's for some peace and quiet.
"Levi's still going to
pick us up in an hour, right?" Gen asked, glancing at the clock on the
bottom of her computer screen's desktop.
"Far as I know," Merri
replied as she closed the notebook she'd been writing their search results
in. "Know what you're wearing?"
Gen sighed as her gaze
trailed to the closet. "No. I figured I'd just blindly reach
towards the back where my cuter outfits rest—still with the tags, in most
instances—and hope I come up with something. How about you?"
Only then did it occur to her that she'd never seen Merri in anything but
jeans and faded T-shirts, always in muted tones. She frowned at the
thought. "Will you have time to go to your place and change?
You can borrow something of mine, but I'm like a foot taller than you…"
Meredith held up her backpack, which in retrospect, Gen mused,
seemed quite a bit more full than usual. "I figured we'd head to
Michael's after school or something, so I came prepared. Mind if I
get changed in the bathroom?"
"Be my guest."
While Merri
went to change, Genevieve herself did exactly as she said she would: she
reached into the back of the closet and fished out a few articles of
clothing that still had their tags. Changed and just pining her hair
long blonde hair into a rough ponytail, she heard a knock at her bedroom
door.
"Yeah?"
The door creaked open and she took a moment
to finally get the last bobby pin in her hair before turning around.
"Holy Christ, you look hot!" she managed to sputter under the
shock of seeing Merri. Twenty minutes in the bathroom had replaced
her jeans with a short skirt, T-shirt with a form-hugging lace top, and
legs clad in black stockings and a pair of bulky black boots. Dark,
dramatic make-up, hair piled on her head in a messy-but-stylish 'do…the
woman was all curves and sin incarnate as far as Genevieve was concerned.
"So this is okay?" she asked with a half smile.
"Okay? If you ever decide you go for chicks, I'd better be
the first to know."
