Envious Deception

by Katie Keller-Nieman

  “I know,” I said so low it was nearly a whisper.

  He leaned forward with a deadly serious expression. “These would make her stronger, but not any more than she was in the other lives when she had them.”

  What he said was true. In every life but the fifties and now, she’d had these books. She remembered most of these spells anyway.

  “You handled her alright then, right?” he asked, waiting for my response. “I mean… aside from that one time.”

  That one time…

  I hadn’t been certain until now, but Tony had told Todd I’d had visions of Eric killing me. No wonder he hated Eric. I’d told Todd the basics months ago, but nothing of my deaths. I never knew how he might react, and I couldn’t imagine how extreme that reaction might be to knowing it had actually happened three times.

  I shrugged in a “kinda” gesture. Since my time in Virginia, Tony had learned more, but apparently he hadn’t shared that information with Todd. It seemed he was a reformed blabbermouth. Otherwise Todd would know that we never were able to handle Aurora. Not in any of our lives. And I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him.

  “Alright,” he added, “so maybe you could deal with her fine in the future too. Besides, if she could send stuff like these books to her next life, who says we can’t? I sure as hell will make sure things get passed down through our family.”

  I smiled in an awkward way. Not because the idea of Aurora attacking me in my next life while I blindly befriended her once again was funny, but because Todd was busy thinking of my future. Not just now, but of lives to come. When he did something as sweet as that, it almost made it okay that I’d lost my parents to Aurora, because Todd cared more than they ever had.

  “We need your laptop,” he said, beginning to stack our belongings.

  TODD:

  He scoured the internet, researching anything he could think of. He hadn’t been so focused since Tony first told him about Sandy’s visions. He had spent days in front of a computer back then, trying to understand just what Aurora was, where she had come from, and what she could do. Having so little to go on, he had come up with nothing but had a fair understanding of the many definitions of witch. And there were a lot.

  There were those who were supernatural creatures, not even human. There were also Wiccans, followers of a religion formed in the fifties from the traditions of old pagan beliefs. There were those who were simply healers, women who were doctors in their time. Their “magic” was folk medicine. And there were those who worked spells and those who had sold their souls for that ability. Nothing was definitive. Nothing matched what he knew of Aurora.

  Holding her books in his hands made a world of difference. The language scattered through the oldest was something he’d never seen or heard. Whatever kind of ‘witch’ Aurora was, she was the kind that didn’t advertise what she is. There were no websites, no blogs. Nothing.

  His fingers paused over the keyboard of Sandy’s laptop. She was at the library, checking out a list of books he’d complied. Some he had already read, some he hadn’t, but they all concerned sorcery and ancient languages.

  There was something he hadn’t researched, something that would be easy to understand with a simple phone call to a number he had memorized nearly a year ago. He slowly typed the words “evil eye” and “Italy.” The first subject on the search query was “malocchio.” The spelling was nothing like the way Amelia had pronounced it. What she said sounded more like my-loiks, but this was definitely it. And it was witchcraft, performed by the strega… the witch.

  It was strange to think of Amelia as a witch. He doubted that she even thought of herself that way. He leaned back, crossing his arms and reading a brief explanation about the magic Amelia could perform.

  Amelia and Aurora. Both witches. Two women who had carved permanent places in his heart and mind. One was welcome. The other was not. It was kind of like comparing Glinda to the Wicked Witch of the West. The two were opposites, and he so wished that someone would drop a house on Aurora.

  But Amelia…

  He couldn’t imagine her harming anyone. He didn’t fear her with the knowledge of all that she could be capable of, but admired her more. His thoughts began to drift to their short time together. He hadn’t been able to go there in so long, but as he closed his eyes, he could nearly feel the soft loving touch of her lips to his. He could remember her arms around him. That day when she first kissed him, he had felt impossibly elated. He never thought someone like her could care about him, no less kiss him so sweetly.

  Thinking of her made him feel wonderful, and yet completely terrible. The worst. It felt like someone stuck their fist through his stomach and pulled his insides out. It was a miserable feeling that any sane person would avoid, but he wanted to keep going back there. Thinking of her. Wondering about her.

  He had screwed everything up. The look of hurt and confusion on her face when he left her in Virginia haunted him. He hated himself for doing that to her. She deserved so much better.

  Mark had better treat her like fuckin’ gold.

  He tried to push aside thoughts of Amelia. He needed to focus for Sandy’s sake. He hadn’t lost his cousin yet, and he planned not to.

  Amelia had used her ability on Eric multiple times, so he said: once during the first summer when Sandy was sick and again last December when she came to pick up Tony for winter break. And it helped, he said. He claimed that he felt lighter afterward. His eyes didn’t feel as heavy.

  As he recalled, it hadn’t protected Eric from Aurora’s influence for long. It wasn’t a permanent fix. When Eric had been with Aurora months later and his liquor was wearing off, Todd could see it in his face. There was a change. Aurora had been too overconfident to notice. She hadn’t even been looking for it. She, like Todd, always underestimated Eric. He wasn’t nearly as dumb as he seemed.

  Researching Amelia’s particular brand of witchcraft wouldn’t do much good. He knew that it wasn’t just superstition because-like what Aurora could do-there wasn’t a single first-person testimonial to be found. No do-it-yourself instructions. Whatever malocchio was, it was real. It just wasn’t the solid solution he was looking for.

  He clicked the keys again, looking up the triskele symbol that Aurora had carved into her own hip. It was a Druid symbol of reincarnation, and it got him thinking about her origins again. It also got him thinking about last spring. Being at the Weston dorms brought everything crashing back on him, every moment spent at Aurora’s side, lapping up her lies, doing whatever she wanted. His stomach turned. He wanted to puke. He tried to shove it aside and focus, but kept seeing flashes of her legs wrapped around him, the way she played him…

  The door opened and Ashley sashayed through, humming to herself. She stopped in her tracks at the sight of him sitting on Sandy’s bed.

  “Todd,” she said swiftly, shrinking back toward the hall as if contemplating escape. “What-uh-what are you doing here?”

  “Hanging out, I guess,” he answered with a limp shrug.

  “You’re not going to yell at me?”

  “No. I’m… sorry about that,” he managed to choke out. “That was messed up.”

  “You’re, like, the king of mood swings,” she laughed, and he smirked. So fuckin’ true.

  It looked like a weight had lifted off her shoulders, and he eagerly welcomed the distraction her presence brought. She bounced onto her bed, kicking her heels excitedly. “You wanna watch some dumb shit? Cuz I do!” She snatched the remote from her pillows.

  Ashley had been his only friend at a time when the world was forgotten, and she had been a good one. A great one, really. Some of the details from back then were still a bit hazy. His head injury was likely to blame for that, though Tony tended to blame Aurora’s meddling with his mind. But he was certain of one thing. What Ashley did when siding with Aurora was more than made up for.

  He looked up from the glowing laptop screen. “I never thanked you. At least… I don’t think I did.”

&n
bsp; She tipped her head slightly. “For what?”

  “For telling me.”

  The amusement left her eyes. “It was nothing.”

  “It wasn’t nothing, and you know it.”

  She looked away, staring awkwardly at her orange bedspread.

  “So… thanks,” he muttered.

  She shrugged.

  “Why did you wait to tell me? You knew the entire time. You heard me on the phone with Amelia at the gas station. You went along for an entire month.”

  “Amelia Bedelia?” She swallowed hard, realizing that when she had teased him about the name he remembered, it had actual meaning to his life.

  He waited for her to answer.

  She stared at her hands, wringing them nervously. “I figured she must have good reason to lie and I… I wanted her to like me. Not many people do, and she did… for a while.”

  The door swung open again and Sandy came through, her arms piled with books.

  “Hi, Cassandra!” Ashley greeted brightly.

  Sandy coldly ignored her. He could see the disappointment crash down on Ashley like a stack of bricks. She attempted to shrug it off and swung her purse back on her shoulder.

  “I’m off to Danny’s. Todd, if you’re spending the night, you can have my bed. I won’t be back until morning.”

  “It’s about time you try to get me in your bed,” Todd joked, a mild attempt to lighten her mood.

  Ashley rolled her lips into her mouth to block out a smile. “Sexy, you’re welcome in my bed anytime,” she cooed with a wink. “Especially if I’m in it.”

  Sandy stared stubbornly at the window until Ashley was gone. She’d refused to acknowledge her in any way. It was a complete one-eighty from the way they had seemed before, and he wondered why, but there were way too many other things to obsess over at the moment.

  CHAPTER 17

  FOOL’S GOLD

  “Are you done with this?” I asked Todd, reaching for the nearly empty container of General Tso’s chicken at his side. He grunted, never taking his eyes from the computer screen. I took that as a yes and tossed the container back in the takeout bag, then carried it out. There was a party going on upstairs. I could hear the thump of the bass through the ceiling of the otherwise silent hall. I reached the community trash bin and tossed my garbage inside.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  I turned to see Eric bounding toward me. He scooped me into his arms and spun us around. When he set me back down, he leaned against the wall to keep his balance, staring at me with a rosy grin and bleary eyes.

  “Are you drunk?” I asked in disbelief.

  “I’m a little buzzed,” he admitted, sounding more like “hammered” than “buzzed.” “But…” he said, drawing the word out dramatically. “I got Tom to forgive me.”

  He did a victory dance. It was cute, kind of sexy and everything that I’d been missing of his fun-loving personality since summer, but I struggled to stay stoic. I didn’t want to laugh because then he would think I was okay with him being drunk. I wasn’t.

  He pulled me close and began to dance with me, swaying back and forth in exaggerated ballroom dancing steps.

  “Stop it,” I commanded, pulling out of his grip. “You told me that you were studying.” My arms crossed with attitude.

  “I was, but then he called and we met down at Blackie’s. Don’t look at me like that.”

  “Like what?” I snarled.

  “Like I did something wrong. I didn’t,” he said plainly.

  “I thought you didn’t like to drink anymore,” I huffed.

  He drew me into his arms. Pressed against his warm body, I knew where his mind was going. Right to me and him, sans clothing. He brushed his hand along my cheek, and his fingertips trailed lightly down my neck. I struggled not to soften toward him, but when he touched me like that… thinking… stopped.

  “Eric…” I groaned.

  He obediently dropped his hand away but kept me close with the other wrapped around my waist. “The only way to bond with Tom was over a bottle of Jack,” he explained. “Besides, I kinda have to get used to drinking again, don’t I?” he asked.

  “No, you don’t,” I snapped, yanking away. “We have a plan for that.”

  He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. It stuck out from the way he mussed it. “We’re never going to find the answers, Sandy.”

  “If we don’t, then Aurora’s and my deal will protect us.”

  He gave a curt laugh. “A deal with the devil. Classic rookie mistake.”

  “I’m no rookie!” I yelled. “I’ve lived as many lives as you, and I’ve known her in each one. How long did you know her? A year. A year again, then what? A few more? I grew up with her four times. Beat that, hot-shot.”

  His face grew a wide grin. Not the reaction I was expecting.

  “What?” I demanded.

  “I love it when you get all fired up.”

  Jerk. I shoved him away and headed back down the hall. He hurried to catch up.

  “You got me, alright? But don’t blame me for being worried about you.”

  I stopped and faced him. “I don’t want this,” I declared, motioning to him and his slackened posture. “I’m doing everything I can to make sure that you don’t become a drunk.”

  “I know, and I appreciate that,” he said firmly.

  “I even dragged Todd here, and while you were knocking them back, we were trying to find a solution.”

  He glanced up the hall before he stepped closer to me. I stepped back, trying to keep distance between us. He didn’t stop, but continued forward until I had nowhere to go, pinned against the wall, trapped.

  I shoved him backward. “Do not back me against a wall, got it?” I growled. “I’m not someone you can push where you want her.”

  He nodded sheepishly, hanging his head. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He looked at me, his eyes a stormy blue. He glanced around, quickly scanning the empty hall, then looked back to me.

  “I’m just…” He apologetically inched forward, clearly expecting to be shoved again. He lowered his head, and his lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “Tom’s a strong ally. He’s not as dumb as he acts, and he likes you. I got him back on our side tonight. This is a good thing. Maybe he can get Jules to help us.”

  I blinked, stunned. I hadn’t even thought… “Do you think she might?” I whispered back. He slowly kissed my ear, as if he just couldn’t help himself. Butterflies raced through my body on a trail of hot lava.

  “Maybe,” he said. “I’m not sure, but it’s worth a shot.”

  A witch on our side? That was so tempting, but hadn’t we caused her family enough harm? Rose McLeary died because of us.

  “We don’t need her help,” I said quietly.

  “We need a witch,” he stated. His eyes swept the hall again; he was clearly nervous about being overheard. “If we find the right spell, we’ll need her.”

  “Not necessarily. I don’t want to involve her.”

  “Neither do I, but…” His words trailed off, and he looked away with desperation in his eyes. “I don’t want to ignore any options.”

  I looked down in defeat. He was right. I couldn’t be mad at him for wanting one of his best friends back, especially now that I knew it was partly for us. Julie knew things before we did, and if Tom could help smooth things over with the McLearys for us, why not let him?

  I looked Eric over, speculating. Despite understanding, I hated what I was seeing. If we failed, this was my future. I slid along the wall to slip away and began to head for my door. His arms snaked around my waist from behind, stopping my retreat.

  “Are you still mad at me for drinking?” he asked, his face nestling into the crook of my neck.

  “Yes.”

  His hands skimmed my hips and pressed me gently until my back was flush against his body. There wasn’t a bit of air between us, and heat flooded my veins. I fought the desire it brought to every inch of me. His breath was warm on my neck, his lips so close
to my skin. His hands climbed my rib cage, slowly approaching my chest. My breathing became ragged, and he hadn’t even done anything yet. Just the hint of possibility was pushing me to the edge.

  “Do you forgive me now?” he whispered softly. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. It didn’t help his case.

  “No,” I whispered back stubbornly.

  His arms circled my waist, hugging me tenderly. “I’m not Todd,” he said.

  I stiffened in his embrace, feeling a rush of cold panic. His arms held me tighter.

  “Don’t put his problems on me,” Eric said calmly. “We’re not the same. His addiction isn’t mine. I’m not an alcoholic. You don’t have to be afraid.”

  I stared dumbly at the floor, hanging my head. He was right. Eric had come back from a physical addiction to alcohol and managed it so well that I hadn’t even known it was happening. Just because Todd was an addict didn’t mean that Eric was one. But it was hard to see the difference sometimes.

  “Come inside. We could use some help,” I said and led him into my room. He said an awkward hello to my cousin.

  Todd gave him half a glance, then snorted. “Well, isn’t this a familiar sight,” he muttered, taking even less time than I did to notice that Eric was toasted.

  “Be nice,” I growled. I wasn’t ready for a repeat of their Thanksgiving match.

  Todd rolled his eyes, staring at my computer. I claimed the head of the bed, opposite Todd. Eric pulled over a desk chair for himself. I handed him a book. He settled in, immediately getting down to business. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as I thought.

  Aren’t we an exciting bunch on a Saturday night? Reading and researching, and not even for classwork.

  I turned a page. Eric read, rubbing at his forehead until the skin was pink. We had no real answers yet. Todd scrawled notes on his copies of the spell books. He was filling the pages with ink but didn’t seem satisfied with his findings, only more confused and agitated. He gnashed his teeth on his pen as he typed furiously on my laptop. He scribbled thorn apple and datura beside where Aurora had written jimsonweed in swirly cursive over a hundred years ago.