“What are we doing?”
“Waiting.”
“Why?”
“I want to see what happens.”
We waited and waited and waited – for what seemed like hours. In reality, it was probably only fifteen minutes. That’s when the door Paris and I had escaped through opened again.
This time it was Tara that stepped out. She looked around. Not seeing anyone, she anxiously started down the sidewalk. Paris looked like she was going to stand and go after Tara, but I grabbed her and pulled her back down. I put my finger to my lips to warn her to be silent. She looked perplexed, but did as I told her to.
When Tara reached the corner, she turned it quickly, heading away from us. I waited about two minutes and then stood up and started to cross the street after her.
“Where are we going?” Paris whispered.
“We’re following her.”
“Why?”
“Because her story doesn’t make any sense.”
“I know it doesn’t. She didn’t have time to explain.”
“No, she didn’t want to explain. She didn’t want us to find her.”
“What makes you think that?”
“Just call it intuition.”
Paris looked doubtful but followed me.
“Where do you think she’s going?”
“Someplace we can get answers.”
“Where’s that?”
“I honestly don’t know.”
Thirty-Six
Paris and I trailed a full two blocks behind Tara. We knew we ran the risk of losing her in the dark – but neither of us was stealthy enough to pull any closer. Luckily, we didn’t have that far to travel.
Tara wasn’t embarking on some long trek. In fact, she merely made a wide loop around the property. I realized, when she skirted into a darkened building, that the house she had entered backed up to the back of the Alpha Chi property.
Paris and I both huddled underneath a tree across the road from the house. We weren’t sure how to proceed.
“What do you think?” Paris asked.
“I think that this all feels like a weird set-up,” I admitted.
“What makes you say that? The fact that we just ran into our dead roommate and that she suspiciously walked out of a frat house that is filled with wolves, but she only went around the block and entered a dark house that is probably filled with certain doom?”
“Sarcasm isn’t going to help us at this point,” I chastised.
“Who was being sarcastic?”
I bit my lower lip as I looked at the house. I wasn’t sure what to do. I knew entering the house was a stupid idea – but I couldn’t exactly walk away either.
“Why don’t we sneak around and see if we can see in through a window?” Paris offered.
“That’s a good idea.”
“No it’s not – but I know you won’t leave and I don’t want to try and sneak into the house.”
We quietly made our way toward the house, slipping inside the hedge on the left side of the structure before we got to the front porch. I was hopeful no one in the house was staring out the window. If they were, everything we were about to do was a waste of time.
The first window was dark – and dirty. I wrapped the lip of my hoodie over my wrist and tried to clear a small area so we could see into the house. As far as I could tell, there was nothing in the room. It was so dark, though, I couldn’t be certain.
We shuffled down to the next window – but we didn’t have any luck there either.
“Let’s go to the back of the house,” Paris whispered.
I nodded and we moved further down the side of the house. In my attempt to be quiet, I should have paid more attention, because my shoe snagged on the root of the hedge as I tried to move into the backyard and I sprawled out into the open. Probably not my best move, especially since there were about thirty wolves watching me as I brushed the knees of my jeans off and looked up. Paris rushed out to help me and froze when she saw all the eyes focused on us.
Tara was standing in the middle of the wolves. She didn’t look surprised to see us. In fact, she looked satisfied.
“I knew you couldn’t just go home,” she said smugly.
“We wanted to make sure you were alright,” Paris whispered.
“I didn’t,” I offered. “I just wanted to see what you were up to.”
Tara smirked. “I bet you wish you had just let it go?”
“Not particularly,” I lied.
“Don’t worry,” she soothed. “You will.”
Tara motioned to the wolves and they surrounded Paris and me. There really was no sense of running off. We’d never make it.
I put up a minimal struggle when a couple of sets of rough hands grabbed my arms. “Let go of me, dog breath,” I seethed.
Tara pointed to a picnic table on the far side of the property. “Go sit there and shut up,” she ordered.
“I will go over there and sit – but only because my knee hurts,” I sniffed.
Paris kicked my shin. “Stop antagonizing them.”
“Why? They’re going to kill us anyway.”
“She’s not wrong,” Tara said, her eyes hardening.
“Why not just do it now?” Paris asked Tara. I think she was still appealing to Tara’s sense of humanity. I was fairly certain that -- if Tara ever had any humanity – it was long gone.
“It’s not your turn yet,” Tara supplied.
“Whose turn is it?” Paris asked, her voice sounded like a squeak more than anything else. Tara ignored her.
“Your name is Lola, isn’t it?” I don’t know why I said it. If there was even a chance of us getting out of here, I had just blown it. I never did know when to keep my mouth shut.
Tara froze in surprise. “Who told you that?”
“I went to Zilwaukee.” Might as well let it all out.
“Why would you do that?” I could tell Tara was angry. She was just barely controlling her rage.
“We couldn’t figure out why no one came to pick up your stuff,” I said honestly. “We wanted to send our condolences to your parents. Then we realized that you never mentioned your parents.”
“So you went to Zilwaukee?”
“Not right away. We Googled you first.”
“You Googled me?”
“And when we came up with nothing we thought that was weird – so I went to Zilwaukee.” I decided not to mention Aric. I didn’t think it mattered at this point, but if there was a way to protect him I had to try.
“No one knows me as Tara in Zilwaukee,” Tara said grimly.
“No, but someone recognized your picture. She said your name was Lola.”
“What picture?”
“The ones on my phone that I took at that first party.”
“I didn’t see you taking any pictures.”
“I wasn’t hiding it.”
Tara frowned. “Who recognized me?”
Uh-oh. “A waitress at a diner.” Not a lie.
Tara seemed to think about it for a second and then her jaw set in a grim line. “It was Fern, wasn’t it?”
“Who’s Fern?”
“She never could mind her own business.”
“Well, to be fair, I took the picture to her. She didn’t seek me out.”
“That’s true,” Tara said eyeing me. “This really is all your fault.”
“Have you been talking to my mom?”
Tara smiled despite herself. “It’s too bad. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to kill you. You’ve put me in a very untenable position.”
“Forget that for a second, how do you still look like you’re twenty-two?”
Tara regarded me with a hint of mirth. She must have decided that it didn’t really matter what she told me since she was going to kill me anyways. “It’s a glamour.”
“What’s a glamour?”
“It’s a spell,” Paris had finally found her voice.
“You’re a witch?” I was surprised. “I thought you were
a wolf?”
“I’m both.”
I turned incredulously to Paris. “You didn’t tell me that was even possible.”
“Why wouldn’t it be possible?”
“I don’t know – it’s like double-dipping.”
“She’s not a potato chip,” Paris grumbled.
Tara watched us argue with bemusement. “I can’t believe you’re my arch nemesis,” she sighed.
“Your arch nemesis? You need to stop watching soap operas – or reading comic books – or whatever it is that you’re doing.”
Tara’s previous amusement fled her face. “Do you really think making fun of me is the best way to go here?”
“Well, you’re going to kill us anyway and I’m not big on groveling, so I don’t see the point of that. Even now.”
“The warrior to the end,” Tara smirked.
“I’m not a warrior,” I argued. “I’m just a person.”
“You really have no idea what you are, do you?” Tara seemed to want an honest answer.
“You’re like the fifth person to say that to me in the last few weeks,” I admitted. “I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”
Tara met my gaze solidly. “That’s too bad.”
“You could tell me.”
“Even I don’t know all that you are,” she admitted. “And I don’t think it’s my place to tell you.”
“Well, since I’m going to die and you’re the only one that knows,” I tried again.
“I don’t have enough time,” she said. “I might actually tell you if I had time.”
“Why? What’s going to happen now?”
Tara stood expectantly and turned to the other wolves. While we had been talking, they had constructed a crude bonfire. I noticed – with a certain amount of trepidation – that they had erected two crosses in the center of the bonfire. That couldn’t be good.
Tara saw where my eyes had traveled and laughed out loud. For a second, I pictured her in a straight-jacket. I think sanity had fled Tara a long time ago – maybe when she was still known as Lola.
“Those aren’t for you,” Tara soothed.
“Well that’s good.” I forced a smile.
“Who are they for?” Paris’ question was so quiet I barely heard it.
“Those are for our special guests,” Tara smiled evilly. “What I have planned for the two of you is much, much worse.”
Well, that was comforting.
I didn’t get a chance to ask who the “special guests” were. I heard a commotion from inside the house and I saw two figures being wrestled out to the backyard. One was clearly a male and the other was clearly a female.
I strained to see if I could recognize them – but they both had canvas sacks over their heads.
The wolves forced them to the crosses and proceeded to tie them up like they were creepy scarecrows. Scarecrows that were still alive and struggling desperately for their lives.
“They’re stringing them up like Jesus Christ,” Paris breathed.
Huh. I hadn’t noticed that symbolism.
“They’re not crucifying them,” I offered. At least I hoped that wasn’t the next step. From what I could tell, their arms were just being spread eagle and tied to the cross arms. Their feet were drawn together and tied around the bottom of the crosses – a mere two inches above the bonfire area.
“Well, that’s a small favor,” Paris tried for a lame joke. She looked pained when she finished.
I put my hand reassuringly on her arm. “We’ll figure something out,” I promised.
“You don’t mean that,” Paris said.
“I mean it. I just don’t know if it’s feasible,” I admitted.
We both turned our attention to the crosses – where Tara walked up and dramatically removed the bags from her guests’ heads.
I don’t know what I was expecting – but seeing Rafael’s disheveled black locks tumble down around his shoulders wasn’t it.
When I turned to see who was trussed up beside him I practically choked. It was Brittany.
Thirty-Seven
My heart felt like it was going to leap out of my chest. That’s when it wasn’t lodged in my throat. This couldn’t be happening.
I glanced at Paris – but her eyes were glued on the scene in front of us. I think she’d lost the ability to blink, let alone speak.
Rafael’s eyes searched the crowd and landed on me. He seemed surprised to see me. Frankly, I didn’t blame him.
Brittany just seemed confused. “What is going on?” She sounded like a wounded bird.
Rafael slid his gaze sideways and took in Brittany’s disheveled appearance. He immediately turned his attention back to me. Tara noticed and she shifted her gaze back and forth between us.
“Just how well do you two know each other?”
“I already told you,” I snapped. I glared at her as I got to my feet. A steady growl went through the assembled wolves. I noticed they’d made a circle around us. I didn’t like this one bit.
I scanned the crowd hopelessly. I didn’t see any wolves that I recognized unfortunately – except for Brett. Why didn’t that surprise me? Brett sidled through the assembled wolves and took his position next to Tara. They smiled at each other – and I couldn’t help but notice the adoration washing over his face.
“Good grief,” I lamented. “Are you two a couple?”
Tara frowned at me. “I told you I had a boyfriend.”
“You didn’t tell me he was a sociopath that drugged women.”
I couldn’t help but feel a little smug when I saw the confused look wash over her face.
“What is she talking about?” Tara turned to Brett with her hands on her hips. “You told me she made that up.”
“She did,” Brett averted his gaze.
“He’s lying. That’s a tell,” I crowed.
Tara seemed to agree. “Were you drugging women to have sex with them?”
“I said no,” Brett practically bellowed.
“I think she’s right and you’re lying.”
Good. I’d sufficiently derailed the current stake burning for a few minutes. I needed to think.
Paris was looking to me for cues. Brittany was desperately struggling against her restraints – all the while making this really annoying mewling noise. And Rafael was just hanging there like he didn’t have a care in the world. Well, actually, he kept shaking his head occasionally, but I got the impression he was more upset about his hair being out of place than anything else.
“You know what? You say that you’re different, but you’re a typical man,” Tara was still raging. “It’s all about you and your needs.”
“Who found a body to substitute out for you to fake your death?” Brett wasn’t backing down.
“Oh, big deal, you broke into the morgue. You’re such a big man.”
“What is your deal? Is it that time of the month?”
All the wolves sucked in a breath and looked at Tara to see what her reaction would be.
“Oh, that’s always your excuse for why I don’t want to sleep with you,” Tara complained. “Did you ever think it’s you?”
“Me? I am great in bed.”
“Who told you that?”
“Anyone I’ve ever slept with.”
“Well, they’re lying.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just a tip, jackrabbit humping me isn’t going to get me off. It’s not going to get anyone off but you.”
“You screamed like it got you off.”
“Yeah, you imagined that. I have never screamed during sex with you.” Tara focused her eyes back on me. “What is it with all guys thinking they’re awesome at sex?”
I’d often wondered that myself. “I think they learn it from porn.”
Tara thought about it a second. “That makes sense. Porn isn’t even remotely realistic and yet men act like the second they climb on you that you’re having an orgasm. They’re so stupid.”
Brett looked irate. The
rest of the wolves just looked confused. I could only hope they were as stupid as they looked.
“Can you do anything?” I hissed to Paris.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, can you start them on fire?”
“I’m not that kind of witch.”
“What kind of witch are you?”
“I’m a solitary practitioner.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“It basically means I can read people’s auras and make a few potions.”
“You can read people’s auras? Well that should be helpful.”
“No one needs your sarcasm.”
Tara was still belittling Brett. If I had to guess, his package had shrunk to the size of a carrot stick and raisins. On second thought, it probably looked like that all the time. That would explain why he was always overcompensating.
I looked up and met Rafael’s steady gaze again. I guess I was hoping he’d figure his own way out of this mess, because I was certainly at a loss for ideas.
Tara and Brett had finally stopped sniping at each other. Crap.
“We are gathered here tonight to make our offering to Samhain,” Tara started in an ominous voice. Good grief.
“Halloween isn’t for another week,” I offered. What? I was trying to help.
“I know,” Tara acknowledged with a shrug. “We’re all busy on Halloween. No one wanted to give up the big Halloween party.”
Oh.
“So, what are you trying to accomplish here?” I knew I was getting desperate to stall for time, but I didn’t know what else to do.
“We’re sacrificing two tributes to appease Samhain,” Brett answered simply.
“Why?”
“So he will reward us.”
“With what?”
Brett looked blank. He turned to Tara. “What are we asking for again?”
“We’re not asking for anything,” Tara sighed. “We’re just trying to appease our God.”
Something occurred to me. “You’re lying.”
Tara turned a glare in my direction. “I am not.”
Witchy Dreams Page 124
