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Iwas crying for real. Loud, over-the-top ugly-crying. Hiccup-sobbing, my hands pressed against that wall of glass, snorting back tears while Shane’s eyes locked with mine like I was his last lifeline. Which I was, for all he knew.
I am trying to save you, I wanted to scream.I have a plan. It’s a weak, shitty, dangerous last-minute plan but it’s all I’ve got, so don’t break my heart like this.
Here I was again, like with Reggie. Needing to be strong when I was falling apart. Needing to be soft at the most dangerous moment, while Halliwell stared at me, his eyes cold and speculative. Judging and assessing me, while this man who might or might not be dying reached out to me for comfort in his final moments.
My misbegotten, robotic hell-sisters rolled their eyes at each other, snickering. Fuck those icy-hearted bitches. So much for my careful mask of cosmetics. Jana had deliberately used non-waterproof mascara, to increase the shock value of my hideous jump-scare face when I finally sprang it on them. I had been so immersed in Shane’s eyes, I had actually forgotten the pill tucked between my forefinger and middle fingers.
Luckily, the gel capsule had stuck fast to the stress sweat between my fingers.
Shane’s eyes were losing their laser-focus. He gasped for air as the fog grew thicker. It was hell on earth, watching his eyelids flutter. He sagged against the glass.
He toppled over, and I sank down to my knees to follow him, skirt billowing like a parachute. In the silence, I heard a keening noise. I realized, startled, that it was me.
I was out of control, emotionally raw from watching Shane be put to death. God, he really did look dead. Who knows, maybe I’d I fucked up. Put in the wrong canister. Maybe Jana had played me, and put a lethal dose of gas into the canister.
It’s done, no matter what. Move on. Take the pill. Now.
I clapped my hand over my tear-soaked, grimacing, sobbing mouth, and sought the gel capsule with my tongue. Found it… swallowed it. There was enough tear-goop in my throat to choke the capsule down, but I still coughed and gagged.
I slumped my shoulders and kept my hands over my face, taking care to smear the mascara and the lipstick around as much as possible, to intensify the oomph of my big scary reveal.
Hello… there it was… yikes, a nasty sensation. That threatening flush of heat in my face, the itchy tingling, the cold chills. My face started to sting. My immune system was freaking out, right on cue. Now I had to play for time, until the reaction had made me look as grotesque as possible.
“For God’s sake, Cassandra,” Halliwell’s voice was cool. “You’re carrying on like a spoiled child. Get a hold of yourself.”
I thought of ten different rude things I would have loved to say in response as my eyes puffed almost shut, my lips swelled and distorted, my chin, my cheeks. I felt a clutch of pressure in my throat. Cold chills, as my blood pressure dropped. I had a narrow window before I needed the epinephrine, or I was going down.
I swung around, showing my face.
Their reaction was spectacular. Halliwell gasped and jerked back. At least four of my sisters-in-hell screamed. I struggled to my feet and lurched toward them, lumbering like Frankenstein’s monster. They scurried back to put distance between us.
“What in the hell is wrong with you?” Halliwell yelled.
I staggered toward him, as if I was about to fall into his arms, suppressing a manic urge to laugh. “I’m so sorry.” My voice burbled with snot. “I’m just having a stress reaction. From seeing him murdered. It’s, you know. Upsetting.”
“Get away from me!” He shrank back in disgust.
“It’s not contagious.” I slurred my words, but it was no act, because my tongue was swelling up. “It happens when I get upset. The last time was when I heard Mom had Varen’s disease. It’ll pass. I’ll be able to do the party?—”
“No! Nobody can see you like that!” Halliwell snapped. “Go to your quarters! Make sure none of our guests see you. You’d scare them to death. Stop by the infirmary on your way and get yourself a pill, for God’s sake.”
He turned to the others, looking them over. “Haley,” he said. “Get dressed and made-up, top speed. You’ll be my hostess today.”
Haley gave me a triumphant smirk. “Yes, sir! Right away, sir.”
“Jana, get him loaded into the incinerator. I want him gone.”
“Yes, sir.” Jana spoke with her usual lifeless tone, but her eyes caught mine for a glancing moment, and I thought I caught a fleeting gleam of amusement.
Halliwell stalked out. The sisters-in-hell filed out after him like a flock of ducklings. Silence settled after their voices and footsteps faded.
Jana stared at me, stiff and unfriendly and wary of the cameras. This video had to be convincing. It could be the only thing that saved her. If Halliwell bought it.
“Stop sniveling,” she said, in her flattest, deadest voice. “I have to get the cadaver loaded up. You don’t have a gas mask, and there’s a massive lethal dose in there, so if you don’t want to die along with him, you should fuck off right now.” She fitted her gas mask over her face, glaring at me. “God. You look like ten different kinds of shit. Eeuww. Get lost.”
I caught a glimpse of myself in the glass, and almost yelped. No wonder I’d scared them. I looked like a swollen-up, spray-painted goblin in a ball gown. I sagged against the glass, staring down at Shane’s crumpled body. Shit. My blood pressure was plummeting. I could fuck everything up by fainting. Wake up in a hospital, my last chance gone, Shane Masters cremated alive. Reggie next on the list.
No, no, no. Not gonna happen. Stay strong. Hang tough.
