Broken Kiss (a Teen Wolf story)

Part 14

            “Why the hell…” Lydia sucked in a couple of shallow breaths. “Is Hell so big?”

            Allison crouched above her, peering over the crest of a steep rise. The steep rise she’d just sprinted up as if it were nothing. Lydia struggled the last few steps, jostling her friend as she dropped beside her. Allison struggled to hide a grin. Lydia elbowed her, but there was no force behind it.

            “It’s not actually Hell, you know,” Allison said, turning slowly to survey the land. Lydia tried to see what her friend was seeing. Gray, gray. More gray. How did she tell the good gray from the bad?

            “I know. It’s the underworld, realm of the dead, ruled by Hades. It’s just a little hellish to be chased by a mob of ghouls who all inexplicably share a rabid hair fetish.”

            Allison rubbed her back, then reached up to pluck a few… things out of her hair. She tossed them away and caught Lydia’s chin when she would have turned to look. Lydia was just able to see…

            Her eyes widened. “Were those-”

            “Don’t think about it.”

            “-fingers?”

            Allison scrunched her nose and Lydia threw her hands up and shook her head.

            “Of course. Of course that’s what I get for coming here. Fingers, the gift that keeps on giving.”

            Allison’s eyes sparkled. “In some cases.”

            Lydia’s mouth dropped open on a pretend gasp. “You perv!”

            Giggling, they leaned shoulder to shoulder. She was so glad to see her. Even though she looked different, she was still so perfectly her. And if Allison was herself, maybe others were themselves, too. Maybe Aiden was here. That thought sent a wave of sadness through her, sadness and guilt. She hadn’t been able to predict anyone’s death yet, hadn’t been able to stop bad things from happening. She wanted to, wanted her intuition to stir a few minutes earlier, wanted the voices to direct her more clearly. She didn’t want to see anyone else die, didn’t want to have to feel it.

            Allison tapped her shoulder and pulled her down even lower, stirring up that fine, chalky dirt. Lydia covered her mouth as she coughed. The creatures Allison had spotted – these ones were definitely part of a non-human species – paused before walking on.

            “Are they like the wolves?” Lydia whispered. “Super hearing and all that?”

            “No.” Allison’s expression turned regretful. “Things are kind of…amplified here. I’m stronger, faster, more precise with my bow.”

            “A better hunter.”

            “A better version of me. I’ve mastered moves my dad gave up trying to teach me.” Allison’s smile was sad.

            “He’s doing okay,” Lydia said, her heart twisting for her friend. She knew that death wasn’t the end, not for everybody. She heard the pleas and laments, the screams and prayers. She just hadn’t realized that anyone could continue with the same memories and consciousness as before, just in a different place.

            “He compartmentalizes,” Allison said, drawing a design in the dirt with her finger, “but he’s been through so much. Betrayal. Loss.”

            “But he’s also had more than most people,” Lydia said, desperate to cheer Allison up. “He adored you. Even with the ‘bring a werewolf to dinner’ debacle, you were so good together. You cherished each other. Every moment you had was worth so much more than merely the time that passed. Some people don’t have that with their parents ever. Some people don’t have that with anyone, ever.”

            Lydia’s dad had visited a few times after her parents split up, but the visits got shorter and shorter. The last time, he’d barely talked to her, spending all his time watching a football game and texting with someone. Her mom, even though she was still in Beacon Hills, felt almost as distant. Lydia was independent. Hell, she liked her freedom. But being free didn’t mean she didn’t want anyone to think of her.

            Allison wiped at the tears staining black paths along her cheeks, and nodded. She forced a smile, even as her chin wobbled.

            “What if…what if we could get you back?” Lydia whispered.

            “No.” Allison shook her head. “Do you see how different you are here, how vivid? That’s why the ghouls were attracted to you and ignored me. They’re from here, some kind of scavenger that feeds off of things we lose along the way. Unless they hang around the Great Hall, they may never see a living being in their lives. You feel different. It’s like…a warm vibration.”

            “I’m vibrating?” Lydia raised an eyebrow.

            “Yes, with the energy of life.” Allison stood, adjusting her bow. “I don’t have that anymore. If I were to leave, I’d crumble into this.” With a sweep of her hand, she indicated the chalky dust blowing along the ground. Lydia scrambled to her feet, clutching the bag of apples to her chest.

            “That’s people?”

            “That’s a metaphor. Ashes to ashes. Eww. No, we aren’t walking on people.”

            “Forgive my morbid imagination,” Lydia huffed. Then she sighed. “So this is it. The only place, maybe the only time I’ll ever see you again.”

            “With all the strangeness in the world, who knows.” Allison’s eyes narrowed. “What’s in the bag?”

            Lydia showed her. “Do you know what they are?”

            “No. Where did you get them?”

            “From Peter.”

            Allison’s expression turned fierce. “Why are you still associating with him? I know that he can be charming, but a little charm doesn’t make him a good person.”

            “He isn’t a good person. But I think he’s getting better.”

            “He wants you to think that,” Allison snapped. “That’s all. He made you save him once, forced you to. But there is nothing worth saving in him.”

            “Huh.” Lydia started making her way down the embankment. Maybe Allison was right, but she hadn’t seen him the way Lydia had. Nobody else had. She’d seen him at his worst, at his most cruel and most selfish. And she’d endured his sweet, barbed charm. But she’d also seen him struggle, seen him throw out attitude when he felt himself wobbling toward genuine emotion. She’d felt him when he started to give in. He was changing. Whether he’d ever be good, she wasn’t yet sure.

            “What ‘huh’?” Allison asked, catching up to her. “I don’t like that tone. That sounds like the sound of a plan. What are you planning? Are you planning something with Peter?”

            “I’m planning to do something about Peter.”

            “What do you mean, about him?”

            “He’s here.”

            “Dead? Again?”

            “Not this time. Hades has been visiting our world. Visiting me, to be precise. Peter…defended me against him. So the lord of the underworld dragged him down. And I want to drag him back.”

            Allison closed her eyes and groaned. “Damn it, Lydia.”