The Reckoning Read online

  “I’m not dead.” Tristan spoke suddenly, and Beckett jumped.

  Tristan opened her eyes, still not moving as she looked at him.

  “What do you want?”

  “I wanted to make sure you’re OK. I take it we’re not meeting today.”

  “I’m fine. Do you know how many times I’ve said that today? And you’re right, we have to reschedule.”

  “Can you blame anyone for worrying?”

  Tristan snorted.

  “Worrying. More like being terrified they’re going to catch some exotic virus that will make them look like this.”

  “Well...” Beckett gave an exaggerated shrug, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

  “I’m not sick,” Tristan said, closing her eyes.

  “So this is a Halloween stunt?”

  “No.”

  “So--”

  “Go away, Beckett.”

  “I’m just trying to understand.”

  “I’m just trying to sit here in peace.”

  “You have Emmeline and her friends thinking they’re going to come down with the flu in the next few days.”

  That got the faintest of smirks out of Tristan, and Beckett smiled.

  “Shou--”

  “Tristan?”

  Beckett turned to see Olivia and Evander approaching in a hurry, looking less than thrilled to see him.

  “Beckett, what are you doing?” Olivia asked, looking between him and Tristan.

  “Bothering me,” Tristan said, at the same time as Beckett said, “Checking on Tristan.”

  “We told you she’s fine,” Evander said, his voice lilting like he was asking a question and giving an answer at the same time.

  “I told him that too,” Tristan piped up, and Beckett thought it figured that she’d suddenly become chatty.

  “She--”

  “She is,” Olivia interrupted, smiling at him sweetly. “It’s just that time of the month.”

  “Olivia,” Tristan groaned, and Beckett backed up a couple of steps, flustered.

  “You’re not gonna let her drive, right?” Beckett asked Olivia, looking dubiously at Tristan.

  “Right. We got this, Beckett.” Evander answered for Olivia, tapping the side of the car as he spoke. “In the back, sis. O is going to drop me back at the field.”

  Tristan, with obvious effort, turned in her seat, practically oozing into the back of the car. She laid down and threw an arm over her eyes, muttering about Evander being lazy, and Olivia smiled again at Beckett.

  “See you tomorrow, Beckett.”

  “You’ll see me tonight, probably,” Beckett replied. “You guys always do such a good job with Halloween, I wouldn’t miss it.”

  “See you tonight then.” Olivia got into the car and so did Evander, not bothering to say goodbye to Beckett.

  The trio drove off and Beckett watched them go. Olivia had been lying about Tristan, but Beckett figured it was what he deserved. Her personal business was none of his, and he’d had no right to pry. He trekked back to football practice, apologizing to Coach Dunne for being late. Coach Dunne didn’t want to hear it, and sent Beckett off to run laps for the remainder of the practice, which Beckett assumed was supposed to be a punishment, but was something he actually preferred over practice that day. He was distracted, and distraction meant a higher risk for injury, and running helped clear his head anyway. Besides, using practice to press Evander for more information would be just as risky as running drills distracted -- Beckett knew Olivia would crack long before Evander would, and Olivia would never crack.

  Giving up for the time being on the mystery of Tristan Wallace, Beckett instead thought about her smirk when he’d mentioned Emmeline’s meltdown. He couldn’t remember ever seeing Tristan smile outright, and the realization made him want it more than he’d wanted anything recently. He respected her need for space and her odd rule of no friendships, but he didn’t have to be someone’s friend to make them smile. A new goal in mind, Beckett took the last few laps with ease, before hitting the locker room shower and heading home.

  ***

  Tristan and Olivia arrived home to a flurry of activity. Sol and Umbris, along with their two housekeepers, Ivan and Ruby, had spent the day preparing the grounds and the house for Halloween, and their work looked, as usual, incredible. Their annual display was not something the people of Lavelle deserved, in Tristan’s opinion, but Sol and Umbris insisted they did it for themselves as much as anyone else. Halloween was genuinely their favorite holiday.

  This year’s theme was a haunted dollhouse, and no detail had been spared. The normally white exterior of the house had been sprayed with what Tristan hoped was a washable black substance, giving it a rundown, rotten appearance. The flowers and bushes had been sprayed with the same substance, and the windows had all been covered with solid black contact paper, making the entire scene look like someone had isolated the house against the vibrant greenery and turned it grayscale. On their way up the drive, Tristan and her siblings had seen Ivan stringing thick, faux cobwebs along the bushes that lined the road. Entering the house, they found that heavy black drapes had been hung, and all family photos had been replaced with framed photos of skeletons in period garb. The living room fireplace was going, the bulbs in the dining room chandelier had been swapped out for black light bulbs, and more thick cobweb adorned its ornate spirals. On various surfaces, doll heads were repurposed as planters, and all of the area rugs had been rolled up and put away. Tristan entered the living room and gasped -- along the far wall were four life-sized dolls who’d been dressed in typical doll clothes and had their hair and faces done in exaggerated doll makeup. They were positioned in different ways, but all wore the same look of terror, and for a moment Tristan had thought they were real humans. This was not helped by the soundtrack of creepy, tinkering music box music Sol and Umbris already had going.

  “I hate these!” Tristan yelled, and behind her Umbris laughed.

  “They’re great, aren’t they? I’ve had them for years, can’t even remember where I got them, and they were the first thing I thought of when we decided to do this theme this year.”

  “They’re freaking terrifying,” Tristan said, turning away.

  “You better go get ready.”

  “Dad, seriously? All I want to do is go to bed and sleep until it’s time to leave for the gathering.”

  “Let Oceana help you get ready. You can sit out front and hold the candy bowl -- you won’t even have to try to look creepy, since you already do.”

  “Gee, thanks,” Tristan said sarcastically, trudging up the stairs.

  Tristan took off her uniform and put on a pair of black leggings and a black tank top. She didn’t know what Oceana had in mind for her, so she laid on her bed and decided to take a nap while she waited. An indeterminable amount of time later, Tristan thought she heard her name. She opened her eyes and promptly screamed -- leaning over her was a ghost.

  "Trinity, Trinity, it’s me!” Olivia waved her hands, her voice panicky. “It’s Oceana!”

  “Gods, Oceana!” Tristan shouted, pushing herself into a sitting position. She put her face in her hands, concentrating on getting her heart rate back down into a normal range.

  “I’m sorry! I tried calling you from the doorway, but you were out like a light!”

  Tristan looked at Oceana, who wore an ashy blonde wig with blunt bangs and long pigtails. Her face, neck, and arms were painted white, and sinister arched eyebrows had been drawn onto her face in thin black lines. Her lips were crimson, the lipstick bleeding out past the corners for maximum creepiness, garish pink blush had been applied to her cheeks, and her eyes were ringed in black. She wore a short-sleeved, short black velvet dress with a white lacy bib and a mock turtleneck, white tights, and shiny black patent Mary Janes.

  “Gods,” Tristan said again, and Olivia grinned.

  “That good, huh?”

  Tristan shook her head.

  “What do you have for me?”

>   An hour later, Tristan stood in front of her mirror, not quite recognizing herself. Olivia, who was extremely talented with makeup and costuming, had completely transformed Tristan into a life-sized doll that rivaled the ones in the living room in creepiness. Olivia had forgone the white paint since Tristan didn’t need it, and smudged black around Tristan’s eyes and downward from the corners of her mouth, which she’d also painted over to make it appear sewn shut. She’d dressed Tristan in a white, Victorian style dress, with a high neck, puffed three-quarter sleeves, and sweeping hemline, white tights and ratty white ballet shoes, and she’d given Tristan a pair of contact lenses that changed her eyes into a cloudy, translucent blue. Olivia had also produced a black wig with fat ringlets, the top part of which was pulled back into a bouffant and secured with a white bow. For the finishing touch, Olivia ripped Tristan’s dress in various places and smudged black makeup all over it. When she’d finished, she stepped back, admiring her handiwork.

  “Oceana, holy shit,” Tristan said, and Olivia smiled. “Where did you even get all of this stuff?”

  “I’ve collected it in pieces over the years.” Olivia waved her hand. “You know I do those makeup tutorials for YouTube and Instagram, so I have a ton of it, but this costume stuff I picked up at some local thrift stores over the last couple of months, after Dad told me what this year’s theme was going to be. That reminds me, can I take your picture for my Insta? I won't say who you are.”

  Tristan nodded, and Olivia positioned her by the window, turning her to and fro until the lighting was just right. She took a series of photos, up close and at a distance, and after a few minutes gave Tristan a satisfied nod. A knock sounded on Tristan’s door just then, and she looked over, jumping when she saw Evander standing in full costume in the doorway. He wore a black and white pinstriped suit with the arms torn off, a white shirt, red bowtie, shiny black shoes, and his hair had been shellacked to the heavens in a 50s, James Dean style that was actually making a comeback outside of Halloween. Olivia had clearly worked her magic on him, too, using her makeup to make his eyes look like huge, round white balls, and like his mouth was open in a black perma-gape.

  “You are so talented. How did I not know this?” Tristan asked, and Olivia just shrugged. “Did you do Mom and Dad, too?”

  Olivia nodded, and Tristan hurried as fast as her exhausted bones would allow downstairs to see them. Olivia had not disappointed here, either, having transformed Umbris and Sol into fantastically creepy ventriloquist dummies. They clapped when they saw all of their children ready to get the night started, and patiently allowed Olivia to take photos of them, as well. When she'd finished, Umbris began directing the children to their posts -- Evander took his place in the dining room, where the table had been set with a silver candelabra with black candles, and all manner of plates and bowls of disgusting looking substances, Olivia took the living room with the dolls Tristan still wasn’t sure wouldn’t come to life and turn their house into a real haunted dollhouse, and Umbris and Sol took the kitchen, which you had to pass through to get out the back door. It was the usual path the Wallaces set up for their haunted houses, and this year Tristan got to take the porch again. Before she went out, Olivia called for their attention.

  “Guys, I’m gonna change the vibe, OK, to make it even creepier in here? You’re all gonna feel really uneasy for a minute, so I’m sorry, but just remember it’s me doing it and it’ll pass quick.”

  Sure enough, moments later a feeling of extreme unease descended upon Tristan, but, just as quickly as it had come, it subsided. Though she maintained that she was not a fan of Halloween, Tristan found herself wishing she didn’t feel so terrible, so she could play along with even half as much enthusiasm as her family. Instead, she sat down in a weather-beaten white rocking chair that had just appeared on the porch that day, folding her hands in her lap and trying to keep her head cocked to one side. Last minute, Umbris and Sol had decided to keep the candy in the kitchen with them, instructing Tristan that all she had to do was act as creepy as possible while their visitors streamed into the house. Ivan and Ruby were in charge of leading the trick-or-treaters up the driveway, and just as night fell, they began to arrive in droves.

  ***

  To say the night was a success was an understatement. Had Tristan been feeling better, she probably would have been delighted by the screams that poured from the house every few minutes. For her part, she’d decided instead to sit stockstill, following the trick-or-treaters with her creepy eyes only. When Emmeline and her crew had arrived, the nerve, she’d been tempted to jump up and attack her, but Tristan refrained, instead glaring at her as hard as she could manage. Emmeline, dressed predictably as an angel who wore barely any clothing, was surrounded on all sides by her friends and looked scared out of her mind, which gave Tristan a small thrill of satisfaction.

  Tristan didn’t see Beckett in the first group of meatheads that had gone in, so she assumed he was in the next. Sure enough, a few minutes later, a group of guys dressed as Marvel characters stepped up onto the porch. Iron Man and Spider-Man both wore masks, so she didn’t know who they were, but Tyler Daniels was dressed as Captain America, Henry Aspern as the Incredible Hulk, Jason Dalton as Thor, and, finally, Beckett as Loki.

  “Look, it’s Tristan in her natural form,” Jason joked, but Tristan did not break character, continuing to stare at him lifelessly. He held up his costume’s Mjölnir, and, in a terrible imitation of Thor, declared, “I am Thor, son of Odin!”

  “Move it along, Thor!” Ivan called from the driveway, and Jason rolled his eyes, approaching the front door.

  Beckett moved into Tristan’s line of vision and, damn him, he was wearing the hell out of his Loki costume. The armor covering his shoulders, from which his cape flowed, accented the broadness of his shoulders, the black leather costume hugged his body from chest to toe, and he somehow even made the ridiculous horned helmet, long black wig, and tall, black leather boots look not quite so ridiculous. Beckett looked over at her, his lips curving into a small smile as he surveyed her from head to toe. Tristan kept a straight face, but was beyond thankful that the porch was too dark for Beckett to see the way he’d made her blush. Too soon, he disappeared into the house, and Tristan told herself to knock it off.

  The next group went inside and, while another waited on the porch, a guy she recognized from the junior class decided it would be a good idea to touch her.

  “Look, a doll.” Theo, Tristan was pretty sure his name was, stepped forward, leaning right down into her face. “Creepy as fuuuuck.”

  His friends laughed, but Tristan started to get nervous about the way he was looking at her, combined with the alcohol on his breath. He hadn’t backed up, was still right up in her face, and the only thing keeping him from being totally intimidating were the bushy black eyebrows he’d glued on as part of his pirate costume.

  “Does it move?” Theo poked her shoulder, hard, and Tristan gritted her teeth.

  “Feels pretty real.” Theo poked her again and, before Tristan could react, he’d picked her up by the waist. “Let’s see--”

  “Get off of me!” Tristan yelled, but Theo was apparently part giant, and he suspended her in the air easily, laughing with his friends as he shook her. Tristan tried to go stiff, but her head flopped around lazily.

  “It talks!”

  “Put me down you psycho!” Tristan yelled again, too weak to put up a good fight, though she gripped his hands, trying anyway. She saw Ivan struggling to get through the crowd that had formed, which wasn’t an easy task considering how many people had queued up by the steps.

  “Hey!” Beckett ran up onto the porch from the side and grabbed Tristan away from Theo, setting her down gently before turning back to the laughing pirate.

  Beckett grabbed Theo by the front of his shirt, and though Theo had several inches and probably a good thirty pounds on Beckett, Beckett yanked him forward until their noses were practically touching.

  “Keep your fucking hands to
yourself.”

  “Or what?” Theo sneered.

  “Or I’ll break them.”

  Theo tried to pull away, laughing derisively, but Beckett held him fast, and for the first time Theo looked something close to nervous.

  “Try me.”

  “Come on! What’s the hold up?” Someone in the very back of the line yelled, and Beckett released Theo, shoving him away.

  Theo stumbled backwards, glaring at Beckett and Tristan. Wisely, he said nothing else, entering the house with his friends, who were imploring him to get away from Beckett. Ivan finally reached Tristan, who had sunk back into the rocking chair, and placed his hand gently on her arm.

  “Are you OK?”

  “I’m fine. You better get back out there,” Tristan assured him, then hesitated, looking at Beckett’s back. “Can you just keep the next group off of the porch for a minute?”

  Ivan nodded, straightening up. He inclined his head at Beckett. “Thank you.”

  Beckett nodded, then turned to Tristan, dropping to one knee and pulling off his helmet and wig. He looked her over, wishing she wasn’t wearing costume contacts so he could see what was going on in her eyes.

  “Are you hurt?”

  “I’m fine. Thank you for intervening. I didn’t think you were still here.”

  “We just got out and were coming up the side when I heard you yell.”

  Tristan nodded.

  “You’d better get back to your friends.”

  “You’re sure you’re OK? You don’t look a lot better than you did this afternoon.”

  “I’ll be fine.” Tristan hesitated. “I like your costume, by the way.”

  Beckett grinned.

  “I like yours, too, even though it’s gonna give me nightmares tonight.”

  Tristan held back another smile, and after a few beats, Beckett nodded at her, rising to his feet.

  “I'll see you Monday, Tristan.”

  “See you Monday, Beckett.”

  He walked off, putting his helmet back on, and Tristan resumed her role. The rest of the night went smoothly, thankfully, and when the last group had left the house, Ivan and Ruby closed the gates at the end of the driveway.