The Dysasters (The Dysasters #1)

Mark glanced at Luke. Heat waves had begun to lift from his skin, evaporating the rain before it touched him, but at Eve’s command he made an abrupt motion with his hand, and suddenly he was getting soaked like the rest of them.

“I fucking hate getting wet,” Luke said. “Well, what the hell are we waiting for? To be totally water-fucking-logged? Let’s go get the old man so we can dry out and eat our cold breakfast.”

Mark moved forward as if he would take the lead, but Eve’s sharp words halted him.

“No. All of you follow me. I’m not chancing any more screw-ups.”

Mark said nothing. He fell into line last as Luke and Matthew jostled past, making mean, childish faces at him.

Why is this happening? Why is my sister changing from my best friend into some who … someone who …

And then it struck Mark like a tidal wave, drowning him in despair.

Eve is turning into someone who reminds me of Father, and not the father who cared for us and seemed to love us so much when we were children. Eve is turning into Rick Stewart, the mad, cruel man who broke us and stole our lives away.

As if jealous of the rain that slicked his skin, Mark’s tears spilled down his cheeks while he ran behind his two brothers and the monster his sister was becoming.





28


EVE


Eve jogged, head down against the wind-whipped rain, and tried to get her temper under control. She didn’t know what to do about Mark. He’d almost screwed everything up. Again. Just like in Missouri when he let Tate and Foster get away. It caused her pain, but it was becoming more and more clear to Eve that for the first time in their lives, she and Mark weren’t on the same page.

She tried to convince herself that wasn’t too terrible. Mark had always been softhearted, the kindest of all of them. Luke was a jerk. They all knew it. Like his element, it took nothing for him to combust. Matthew was undependable. His moods blew from good to complete asshole as quickly as the wind changed.

But Mark had always been different. She’d grown up using him as a feelings gauge. When she wondered if she should be sad about something, she turned to Mark. If he was very upset, well, then it was time for her to get sad. Mark felt things too deeply, and she’d been quick to protect him, especially after Father had changed.

Only now it was Mark who was changing, and Eve found she couldn’t convince herself that wasn’t terrible.

Why can’t he understand that I’m doing all of this for us—so that we can be free? So what if that means eight teenagers are inconvenienced? The four of us have served our time. It’s someone else’s turn now.

Eve’s legs were jelly. The sucking sand was hell to jog through, but it fueled her anger at Bowen. That old bastard was exactly what Luke and Matthew had labeled him—a pain in the ass. Well, she was going to deal with him from now on. She’d lock the old troublemaker in his room, without that damned dog, and as soon as Tate and Foster showed up she’d let Matthew and Luke handle the cleanup. Leaving Bowen behind to tell stories to the police was a mistake she wasn’t going to make. Perhaps there should be a tragic accident that involved a candle and Bowen’s house going up in flames with the old man and dog inside.

Mark wouldn’t be able to handle that, so Mark simply wouldn’t know about it.

Suddenly, someone grabbed the back of Eve’s soggy shirt, causing her to almost fall back on her butt. She rounded on Luke, whose hot hand still had a hold of her.

“What the hell?” she snapped at him.

“Hey, open your ears! I told you to stop.” Luke pulled her behind a big clump of sand and grass. Matthew and Mark jogged up to them, breathing heavily and sending the two of them questioning frowns. Luke jerked his chin in the direction they’d been heading. “Am I the only one of us who is actually looking while we run?”

“We don’t have time for theatrics, Luke,” Eve said, jerking her shirt from his grasp.

“It’s Bowen. Just ahead. I don’t think he saw us. He’s talking to two kids. His stupid dog is there, too. Matthew, be sure you keep wind coming at our faces so that mutt doesn’t scent us.”

“Good eye, Luke,” Eve said while her brother preened under her praise. “You three stay out of sight. I’m smaller than any of you. I’m going to get closer and check out what’s going on.”

Eve slipped around the far side of the mound of sea grass and sand. Crouching, she sprinted for another, smaller concealing dune closer to the people on the beach. She waited, catching her breath, and then, on her hands and knees, Eve crawled until she had a clear view of the beach.

Eve almost had to cover her mouth to smother a shout of victory. Retracing her path, she rushed back to her brothers, smiling with relief and pleasure.

“It seems Mark did a good thing letting Bowen get away. He’s led us directly to Charlotte and Bastien.”

“What?” Mark gasped before peeking carefully around the dune.

Eve let him get an eyeful before she spoke. “Take a good look. Those two kids are your salvation from the Frill and from Father.”

Mark turned back to her, slumping against the sandy dune. “We’re going to ruin their lives.”



“No. We’re going to teach them about their powers and give them an opportunity to use them,” Eve corrected him. She reached out and took his hands, hating how cold they felt, wishing she could get through to him. “Mark, we’re not going to hurt them, but we have to do this. If we don’t it’ll be the end of us.”

“And we’re not ending because you’re soft,” Luke said.

“It’s three against one. You’re outvoted, bro,” Matthew said.

“Yeah, I get that. I’m part of this family and I’ll help you so that we survive, but unlike the three of you, I won’t like it, and I won’t hurt them—any of them.”

Eve read the hopelessness in Mark’s eyes, and for once it didn’t make her sad. It made her victorious. I’ll make it right with him later, after we’re back on the island, she told herself.

“Good. Okay, Bowen is going to be a problem, but remember we still need him to get to Tate and Foster,” Eve said.

“But we don’t need that damn dog,” Luke said.

P.C. Cast, Kristin Cast's books