Home > Resurrected (The Vampire Journals #9)(12)

Resurrected (The Vampire Journals #9)(12)
Author: Morgan Rice

“I’m not going to listen to any more of this,” Caleb said.

He turned and marched across the room, yanked his army coat off the hook, put it on and quickly zipped it up.

“Where are you going?” Caitlin asked.

“I’m going to find her. I can’t just sit here. It’s driving me crazy. I have to look.”

“The cops said the best place to be is here. What if she comes home while you’re out there?” Caitlin asked.

“Then you can stay here and call me,” Caleb snapped. “I’m going out.” With that, he crossed the room, opened the door, and slammed it behind him. Caitlin listened to the sound of his boots quickly descending the porch steps, crunching across the gravel, then heard him get into their car and take off.

Caitlin felt like crying. She didn’t want to fight with Caleb—especially now. But she couldn’t let him convince her she was losing touch with reality. She knew what she saw. And she knew that she was right. She wasn’t going to let others convince her she was losing her mind.

Caitlin turned to Sam and Polly, who stood there, very still, eyes opened wide in surprise. They had never seen Caitlin and Caleb fight before. Caitlin herself had never seen them fight before—up until this moment, their relationship had never been anything but harmonious. Sam and Polly both looked stunned, afraid to interfere. They also looked at her as if she were a bit crazy, not in her right mind. She wondered if maybe they sided with Caleb.

“I feel like maybe I should be out there searching, too,” Sam said tentatively. “Two cars searching the streets is better than one. And I’m pretty useless in here. Is that okay?” he asked Caitlin.

Caitlin nodded back, afraid to open her mouth for fear she would cry. Sam was right; he wouldn’t be much use here in the house. And she had Polly. Sam came over and gave her a quick hug, then turned and left.

“I’ll be on my cell,” he said, as he left. “Call me if you hear anything.” Sam closed the door behind him and Polly came over to Caitlin and gave her a long hug. Caitlin hugged her back. It felt so good to have her best friend here, by her side. She didn’t know what she would do without her.

The two of them sat side-by-side on the couch, as Caitlin wiped away a tear forming at the corner of her eyes. Her eyes were already red and raw from all the hours of crying. Now, she just felt hollowed out.

“I’m so so so sorry,” Polly said. “This is a nightmare. Just awful. There are no words. I don’t understand what happened. None of it makes any sense. I know that Scarlet didn’t do drugs. She wouldn’t. And you’re right: Blake seems like a good kid.” Caitlin sat there, looking out the window at the falling night, and nodded blankly. She wanted to talk, but she felt so shaky, she was afraid she would burst into tears again if she did.

“What do you think about what the police said?” Polly asked. “About contacting her friends?

Do you think that’s a good idea?”

As Polly said it, Caitlin suddenly remembered it, and realized it was the perfect thing to do. She racked her brain, wondering how to get in touch with her friends.

Then it hit her: Scarlet’s phone. She’d burst out of here without even pausing to grab it. Her phone must be somewhere in the house. Maybe in her bag. Probably in her bedroom.

Caitlin jumped up from the couch.

“You’re right,” she said. “Her phone. It must be in her bedroom.” Caitlin ran across the room and up the steps, Polly and Ruth on her heels.

She hurried into Scarlet’s bedroom, saw the upturned sheets and pillows, saw the dent in the sheetrock where Caleb had been thrown, where her own head had hit, and remembered. It brought it all back, and made her feel queasy as she relived it again. It looked like the scene of a disaster.

Caitlin felt a surge of determination as she scoured the room. She rifled through the mess on her desk, on her dresser—then spotted her bag, hanging on a chair. She rummaged through it, feeling a bit guilty, and felt for her phone. She pulled it out, victorious.

“You found it!” Polly yelled, hurrying over.

Caitlin saw there was still some battery life. She opened it, feeling bad for spying, but knowing that she needed to. She didn’t know Scarlet’s friends numbers, and had no other way of getting in touch with them.

She tapped on Scarlet’s contacts, then went to her Favorites. She scrolled through, and saw dozens of names. Some names she recognized, and others she didn’t.

“We should call them all,” Polly said. “One by one. Maybe one of them knows something.” Caitlin stood there, in a daze, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. As she went to dial the first contact, she noticed how badly her hands were shaking.

Polly noticed, too; she reached out and placed a reassuring hand on Caitlin’s wrist, and Caitlin looked up.

“Caitlin, sweety, you’re still in shock. Let me call all these people for you. Please. It would give me something to do. Just go and sit down and rest. You’ve been through hell, and you’ve already done all that you can.”

As Polly said it, Caitlin knew she was right. She wasn’t really in her right mind. She looked at the phone, and for a moment, almost forgot what she was doing. She reached out and handed the phone to Polly.

Caitlin turned and walked out the room, and within moments, she heard Polly’s voice ringing through the air, already having someone on the line.

“Is this Heather?” Polly called out. “This is Polly Paine. I’m Scarlet Paine’s aunt. I’m sorry to trouble you, but we’re looking for Scarlet. Have you seen her?” Polly’s voice slowly faded as Caitlin walked back down the steps. She held the banister as she went, feeling dizzy, feeling as if the world might slip out from under her.

She finally entered the living room, walked over to a large, overstuffed chair, and sank into it.

She sat there, staring out the window, her mind racing. Despite her best efforts, images flashed through her mind: Scarlet in bed, screaming; her snarl; her throwing Caleb; her bursting out of the house…. Was it all real?

As she dwelled on it, she couldn’t help thinking of her meeting with Aiden. Of his words, of her journal. Had her journal caused all this? Why had she had to go to that stupid attic? Why did she have to go visit him? If she hadn’t, if she’d left everything alone, would all of this had happened?

She thought of Aiden’s warning, that Scarlet would unleash vampirism back onto the world.

   
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