Meg Cabot - Awaken

“Don’t be,” Mom said, patting my hand. “It was my fault. I never should have gotten involved with Nate in the first place. I was the older one and set a terrible example for Chris. He was only following my lead. I thought by coming back now that he’s out of jail, I could help him, but things have turned out worse than ever.”

“Well,” I said. “You didn’t know there was a hellmouth under Isla Huesos, or that Grandma was a Fury.”

John narrowed his eyes at me. “It’s not a hellmouth.”

“Oh, right,” I said. “It’s our home. An entrance to the Underworld, then.”

The sound Mom let out was halfway between a sob and a laugh. “No. That’s not something I ever suspected, although perhaps I should have. But I wasn’t particularly surprised to hear Nate Rector parlayed all his illegal drug earnings into the real estate market and has converted Reef Key into a high-scale luxury resort. That seems exactly like the kind of thing the Rector Wreckers would do.”

“I agree.” I dropped my arm from around my mother’s shoulders and moved to tap the file in front of Alex. He’d kept close hold on it when the wind burst in. “What I want to know is what it says in here about those bones they found on the beach.”

Alex grinned devilishly as he reopened the file. “You mean, are Seth’s and Farah’s dads building their fancy new subdivision on top of an ancient Indian burial ground ?”

“I believe the politically correct term would be ancient Native American burial ground ,” I said. Alex began to crack up, which caused me to crack up, but neither my mother nor John smiled.

“It isn’t funny,” Mom said. “I know what I was doing in the photo was wrong, but I had an excuse: I was young, in love, and maybe a little bit drunk.”

I widened my eyes. Mom said, quickly, “I didn’t say it was a good excuse. And Pierce, if you ever do anything remotely similar, I will ground you for the rest of your life.”

Trying not to smile, I met John’s gaze and found that he, too, was grinning. Mom still didn’t seem to get it: I was already grounded for the rest of my life … in the most delicious way possible, in the Underworld, with John.

“The Calusa Indians were fierce warriors and expert sailors,” Mom, not having noticed my smile, was saying. “And they managed to eke out an existence on these islands hundreds of years before comforts like purified drinking water, mosquito repellant, or air-conditioning were invented. They stayed true to their own religion and own way of life, refusing to capitulate to invading foreigners, even as their families were being slaughtered for doing so. It’s hard not to admire them for that.”

“No one here is saying they don’t admire them,” Alex said, pulling another sheet of paper from his file. “We’re saying the exact opposite of that … that we think somewhere along the line, someone dropped the ball. Because while there is this photo of you and my dad playing pirates on the beach — and of course that reference to Coffin Island in the deed — nowhere in any of the paperwork for the Rector and Endicott Reef Key Luxury Homes and Real Estate Development is there one mention of human bones being removed and properly reinterred elsewhere.”

Mom looked troubled. “Well,” she said, rubbing at a spot of maple syrup that had spilled onto the counter. “I suppose it’s possible that Nate had them removed sometime after he and I broke up —”

“Really, Mom?” I said to her. “If he did it right, don’t you think there’d be a marker or a plaque wherever he had them laid to rest?”

She stared at the counter. “It’s been twenty years. There’ve been a lot of storms. It’s possible they simply washed out to sea.”

“It’s also possible they’re sitting in some Dumpster somewhere on the construction site. He’s probably already thrown them under a bulldozer and crushed them into powder, but in case he hasn’t, we need to go back and look.” I glanced at John. “This could be what’s causing the imbalance. One of the first things Mr. Smith ever said to me was that no life, if it was led by a decent person, should go unremembered. He was talking about you, and Coffin Night, but I think maybe we’ve just found out about a whole lot more bodies that were never properly buried.”

John nodded. “We’ll go back.”

Mom reached out to snatch my hand, her face draining once more of color.

“Pierce, no,” she cried. “You can’t. Didn’t you hear what your father and I said? Mr. Rector has filed charges against you for attacking Seth —” She looked up at John. “Both of you. You can’t go anywhere near that place.”

“Mom.” I squeezed her fingers. “Don’t you get it? Mr. Rector can’t hurt you anymore. He can’t hurt Uncle Chris, either. You have us.”

“You have me, too.”

We turned to see my father standing in the entrance to the dining room, his cell phone dangling from one hand, his expression bemused as he stared at my mom and me.

“But then, you’ve always had me.” He took the step down from the dining room into the living area, and crossed the room to put his arm around my mother. “I’m not entirely certain why you ever thought you didn’t. And if I overheard correctly, and it involves that Rector clown, then you not only have me, but you also have my .22 Magnum.”

“You see,” Mom said. “This is exactly why I never wanted to involve your father. He always overreacts.”

“I don’t think Dad’s overreacting in this particular case,” I said. I glanced up at my father. “How’d you do on the boats?”

“Gary can get them here in six hours,” Dad said, looking pleased for himself. His gaze fell on Alex. “Who the hell are you?” he demanded gruffly.

“Zack,” Mom said. “That’s Alex.” When Dad continued to look blank, she added, frustrated, “My brother’s son? Your nephew ?”

“Oh,” Dad said. His manner softened somewhat. “How you doing?”

Alex looked at my father with something like wonder, taking in his business suit slacks, T-shirt, and unshaven face. “I’m fine. Nice to finally meet you, Uncle Zachary.”

It was only then that I realized why Alex seemed so astonished. It wasn’t my father’s peculiar state of dress. It was that this was the first time my father had ever visited Isla Huesos. Alex had never seen my father in person before, due to Dad’s extreme prejudice against his in-laws … which was somewhat understandable, when you factored Grandma into the equation.

“Call me Zack,” Dad said to Alex. “You know about all this Underworld business?”

“I do,” Alex said with a nod. “I’ve been there. These two” — he nodded first at me, then John — “brought me back to life after Seth Rector stuffed me in a coffin and I suffocated to death.”

“What?” Mom cried.

Dad, however, didn’t skip a beat. “No kidding. I’d love to hear more about that if we’ve got the time.”

“We don’t,” John growled. “Six hours isn’t fast enough, either. We need those ships now.”

My father eyed him. “Six hours is as fast as a two-hundred-twenty-five-foot-long ship built to accommodate twelve hundred passengers can travel … especially in rough seas, when they’ve only got two diesel engines with a top speed of” — he glanced down at his phone — “sixteen knots.”

John looked at me. “It isn’t going to be soon enough. Mr. Liu says some of the passengers have already begun to riot outside the castle.”

“Then take my dad’s advice,” I said, “and make your own fate. Do you know what I’m saying?”

He gazed down into my eyes, his expression filled with love, but also with uncertainty. “I already told you, the heaviest thing I’ve ever lifted is Frank.”