“What?” Tomas asks, his expression turning sour.
“There’s this silly little excursion,” Ramona coos. “A ghost tour. Maybe there will be a little truth to their macabre tales. After all, there is some to all those students that disappeared.”
“A ghost tour?” He repeats, raising an eyebrow. His dark hair is sticking where he’d ruffled his hands through it one too many times, and his pale, grey eyes are glinting with amusement. “You have to be joking.”
“No, we’re not, really,” I respond quickly. Retrieving the Ghouls of Blackwood brochure from where I’d shoved it beside my seat, I straighten it out and hand it to him. “Just, think about it,” I add.
It takes him another moment to follow us into the duplex, and Ramona and I exchange hopeful glances in between dragging our bags up the front steps. Note to self, no reason to over pack for a quick visit home.
“Alright,” Ramona says as Tomas lumbers through the door. She’s already sprawled across the couch and shifting through our files on the missing students the police never found. “You mull it over and then tell us when we’re going on the tour. You know you’re going to agree eventually.”
Shaking my head at the two of them, I chuckle and head down the hall to unpack. What I am not prepared for, though, is somebody sitting at the vanity.
“Eden?” I choke out, taking in her snarled auburn hair and haggard face. The garden window is wide open behind her, but she sits motionless, as if she doesn’t feel the biting autumn cold pouring into the room.
Eden turns to me, puckered scars marring her mouth and the bridge of her nose, drawings crawling up the backs of her hands and wrists, and deep circles under her eyes denoting a lack of sleep. “I need your help, Nix.”
“Guys! I need you! Now!” I holler to Ramona and Tomas.
Ramona is slower at responding, but from my first word, Tomas comes running from his room, elbows banging against the doorways and boots thudding against the floor. Stationary as she is, a prickle of fear breaks Eden’s expression, and her mouth purses in a worried pout as they hurry in.
“Don’t throw me out, okay?” She begs me. “I need another bruja. I need you.” She steadies her gaze on me, and I find I can’t deny it.
Half or not, there’s no denying the magic in my veins.
“I can’t help what you were doing,” I tell her. My knees are shaking, and Tomas sets a hand on the middle of my back to steady me. “It was dark.”
“It wasn’t!” She cries. “It was just... different. You’re different too. You know how it feels to be split in half.”
She’s right about that, though how she knows, I can’t guess. I’ve always specifically shied away from sharing too much with her. As far as denying the dark magic, well, Eden’s always been a rule breaker.
“Come on, witch,” Ramona rolls her eyes, “we saw your little diaries. You mixed magicks. That’s seriously bad juju.”
“Not for me,” Eden argues. “I was born to do it.”
“What are you talking about?” Tomas demands. He moves around me, blocking both Ramona and me with his body. His muscles tighten and his brow furrows, and for the moment, he looks truly dangerous.
Instead of answering, she looks past him to me. With her knuckles white against the scarf she’s clutching on her lap, she blinks slowly and waits until I step forward again.
“Please,” she whispers. I nod my head. I won’t let them throw her out. “My dad was a witch... but my mom and half-sister are mages.”
It takes the others a good half minute to catch on to what she means, but relief courses through me as I understand. Harnessing two different types of magic is confusing and honestly, the thought of it alone is overwhelming to me, but it’s unavoidable. It’s as much a part of me as my bones or flesh. Just like Eden’s powers are part of her.
Ignoring Tomas and Ramona’s distraught exclamations and arguments, I stride past Eden to shut the window. Nodding at Frank, I let him know he can be himself, and it’s only his quick movements towards the vanity that finally gets Eden to move.
Jumping up, she flinches like a startled cat, dropping her scarf and raising a foot.
“It’s fine,” I reassure her. “He’s my sentinel. A protector,” I explain. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”
“She’s coming back for me,” Eden responds, her eyes wide with fright and her jaw trembling as she speaks. “This coven... they wanted her back. But I can’t do it, she’s evil, Nix. She’s evil!”
“Let me guess,” I sigh. “It’s the hag from before?”
Eden drops her head in confirmation and a small sob pulls past her lips.
“Did I hear her right? She refused a Death Coven?” Ramona demands, her surprise turning to quick defense. Looking to her brother, she reaches for her phone. “This is bad. Beyond bad. I’m calling the others.”
“Wait,” Tomas catches her hand, “it might be safer if they stay away. The less involved, the better.”
“As far as I see it,” I argue, “Terra’s already got a mark on her. The hag saw her when I was dragged to the in-between. We ought to warn her.”
Ramona pulls her arm out of Tomas' grasp and raises her chin in determination. “If things are about to get as bad as I think,” she says, “hiding isn’t going to save anyone. And I’ll be damned if I don't give Yvette as much heads up as I can. If the others are in, there’s no point in leaving Bridget out. I’m calling them.”
Eden is still shivering in the middle of the room, the others are flipping out, and as I take account of our paltry group, I make a decision I thought I’d never make.
“Show me as much magic as you can,” I command Eden. To Frank, I add, “We’ve got work to do.”
I need to make this place as much of a sanctuary as Nix House is. If that means going full time witch, so be it. I just hope I can get the magic to work for me.
While Ramona invites her friends over for an emergency meeting, Tomas excuses himself to the garden where he spends several moments whispering to ravens and grackles. It takes me a few moments to get Eden calm enough to be of any help, but thanks to the quantities of devil’s shoestring and sage I’d already bought, we already have the makings of a protection spell. It’s a strange thing; trying to be a witch. Being a clairvoyant is more natural, instinctual, but because the extra steps that go into spell work, my hands are shaking.
“The problem is,” Eden points out, “the more magic we use, the more of a beacon the energy becomes.”
“Like a magnet.” I nod. Delia had explained as much when it came to spiritual energy last year. “What about cloaking spells? Is there anything we can do to hide?”
Eden merely shrugs and shakes her head. We’re quite the pair of desperate halflings; confused, in danger, and just hoping things work out. I’m hoping, at least. Eden looks as though she’s about to collapse.
“Okay, stop,” I tell her. “We’ve done as much as we can. For now, let’s get you cleaned up so you can rest.”
I persuade Ramona to help me cut Eden’s hair into a short, only slightly crooked bob. With as snarled as her hair was, it was the only option we had to fix it. Leaving Ramona to gather towels and toiletries so Eden can shower, I clean up my room so that it’s ready for her. I can sleep on the couch later for all I care.
A hesitant knock on the door catches my attention just as I'm finishing pulling fresh sheets over the mattress and I glance down at Frank. He goes from pacing to running down the hall, and following the small, iron scorpion, I yell, “I’ll get it.”
I don’t know why Frank’s so excited; it’s probably just Yvette or Bridget. I’m not all that convinced Terra’s actually going to show.
“Hey,” I say, wrenching open the door, “we weren’t expecting you for a few...” I trail off as I take in Ellis’ form on the front porch. He’s rubbing at the back of his neck and I can’t think of a single reason he’s here.
“Hey, Addie.”
“Hi,” I respond breathlessly. “Uhm, hi
,” I repeat.
“Sorry to just show up,” he apologizes. “I asked around where you and your friends were staying, and I don’t know. I don’t know why I’m here.”
I blink at him, confusion and anxiety fighting for my attention.
“I thought maybe we could talk. It’s been a while.” Ellis shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and shifts his feet. Behind him, dozens of shining, black creatures lurk in the branches. Tiny little spies.
He wants my attention, he misses me! My heart picks up speed, and then skips. He can’t want me, he can’t be near me, especially not now.
“You know, uh,” I stammer, my stomach twisting with regret. God, why do I have to do this? “This really isn’t the best time. I’m sorry. Maybe, no, I’m sorry. I can’t. I just can’t.”
Holding back tears, I step back into the living room, barely breathing as I watch Ellis’ heart break in two. I don’t mean metaphorically. I mean his biggest regret— the one I can see glowing bright and violet just at just about chest level... is me. Covering my mouth with my hand, I shut the door and turn around, right into Tomas.
“Are you okay?” Tomas asks, alarm halting whatever he was in the middle of. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
I shake my head silently and run down the hall. I can’t cry in the bathroom because Eden’s there, I can’t cry in my room because that’s where she’s going next, and there’s no way I’m crying in front of Ramona! Slumping onto the floor in the middle of Tomas’ doorway, I bury my face in my arms and struggle to process my grief.
I don’t get to be normal, or to keep my best friend or my boyfriend. But more than that, one of my worst fears has come true. I’m someone’s regret. I’m the unwanted one, the one that messed up. Just like I always knew I’d be.
Sitting against the wall across from me, I’m aware of Tomas’ presence only by his boots brushing against my legs.
“Hey,” he whispers, trying again to get me to answer. “Talk to me.”
And because I’m tired, and scared, and lonely, I do. I tell him everything about moving from San Antonio and losing my previous friends, then my dad. Then Sabrina, and now Ellis. I tell him about my fears and how I never thought I could measure up to being good enough. And after it all, I don’t care that Ramona has to step over us to go open the door, or that Eden stares at us as she heads back to my room. I don’t care about anything but the pain and fear threatening to swallow me whole.
“You know what I think?” Tomas asks conversationally. As though I’m not covered in snot and tears and my eyes aren’t half swollen shut. God, I really, really hate crying.
“What?” I grumble.
“I think you need to stop trying to make yourself fit into a box. Bottom line is you aren’t normal, and that’s okay— neither am I. Neither is Ramona, or anybody else in this duplex! That doesn’t make us broken. And you don’t get to decide whether or not you’re worthy of love. You just are.
“Maybe the problem isn’t whether or not you should be loved. The problem is that you’re sticking everyone else on a pedestal and shoving yourself down. You think that Ellis guy is perfect? I guarantee you, he’s not.”
Tomas adjusts his legs and waits until he’s sure I’m listening before going on. “Just figure out how to accept yourself and let everything else be. And maybe next time, choose to date someone you actually feel equal to. A relationship should be a partnership, and from what I’m hearing, what you had wasn’t.”
He stands, leaving me gaping at him from on the floor. Ramona and the others are already arguing in the living room and my head is pounding too hard to join them.
“Come on,” Tomas offers me his hand, “I’ll deal with them. You just get up off the floor and figure out how to pull yourself together. We’re going to need you to make this out alive.”
Chapter Eighteen
Buddy system implemented, and two weeks later, we’re hardly better off than before. From what we can tell, our nameless mage isn’t around for the shifters at all, but from what Tomas and Ramona gleaned from the birds, he is looking for Eden. It seems like everyone is.
I’m not sure what scares me most; that they’ll find her, or that they’ll come after me next.
With her self-imposed house arrest, she went ahead and dropped her classes, and if I weren’t scraping by, I’d consider doing the same. The majority of the time I’m on campus, I spend my energy tracing hints of negative auras around different buildings, much to Tomas’ dismay. Ramona, on the other hand, can’t get enough of tracking the hag down. The longer time goes on, the more impetuous Ramona's attitude becomes.
She’s easily agitated, quick to laugh and to cry, and fluctuates between sitting far too still, and not sitting at all. Tomas pretends like he doesn’t see it, but every time she does something more erratic than before, his jaw twitches and he begins ruffling his hair and pacing until he leaves the room altogether.
“It would just make more sense if I knew how to draw her out.” I groan, slouching over a print-out of the campus map. “There’s enough of us now to take her down, but every time there’s more than two of us together, she vanishes.”
Eden, curled up on the sofa and stringing glass beads onto a knotted, silver thread, glances up to fix me with a solemn stare. “Find her victim’s remains,” she states, as though the answer is obvious.
“That could actually work,” Tomas agrees from over in the kitchen.
Eden rolls her eyes and goes back to her beads. “Of course, it’s a good idea,” she grumbles. “It’s only witchcraft 101 when it comes to ghosts. Which, by the way, there’s not a lot of knowledge. Witches aren’t good with the dead, and the only reason I’m a little better is because according to my mom, mages are natural seers.”
“Meaning, in other words,” I surmise, “if this doesn’t work, I’m screwed.”
“We’re all screwed anyway,” Ramona snorts, “and speaking of bad situations; does anyone else think it’s strange the next ghost tour is Christmas week?”
“Not really,” Eden and I chime in together.
“It’s the winter solstice on the twenty-first,” I explain. With everything going on, Eden and I have been pouring over the notes we’d taken in the past when spell work seemed more dubious than part of our lives. Now I wish we’d read up on it more.
“That’s also supposed to be the cold moon that night— you know the last full moon of the year?” Tomas adds. With his back to us, he gazes out the kitchen window, stress clear even in the stiff way he holds himself. “It’s going to be the longest night of the winter... I’m not sure how great that’s going to go over for us. Spirits are always stronger at night.”
“Well anyway,” I point out, “besides all that... if it were as simple as finding the victims’ remains, I think we would have done that by now. The problem is the police never even found these people.”
I spread out the photos in front of me, my eyes lingering on the hopeful grins most of the students wore. The hag’s chilling voice echoes in my memory... I have a lovely smile, she’d said. Add that to where Aimee and Eden’s scars were, and I’d bet the victims were chosen for their grins. But why?
I shake my head and slump down. There’s no way to fathom the motives of a serial killer. At least in death I know what she’s after. Revenge... and my blood so she can get it. The idea of such a wretched person coming back from the grave is far too unsettling for the cheery Christmas music Ramona tunes into on the stereo. In fact, the only good thing about the last few weeks is the text message I’d gotten from Sabrina the week after Thanksgiving.
I was totally out of line... Still love you & I get it... Whenever you think it’s good to talk again, I’m here. Just take care of what you need to & be careful...
Picking at the corner of my phone case I re-read it for the tenth time. I still haven’t answered. Chewing on my bottom lip, I force myself to look around the room. These papers of missing students and my little band of supernatural weirdos are my life now. Tracking down vi
le spirits is my life now.
Eden frowns as she continues working on whatever it is, she’s doing, jewelry gleaming from her many piercings, and her newly cut hair falling across her cheeks to hide her scars while she juts her chin out in frustration. Her nimble fingers knot and untangle the thread, and still, she reminds me of present-day Anne of Green Gables. Just as wild, just as curious. It’s not right seeing her coop up in an apartment day after day.
“If I had to hide bones, where would I put them?” Ramona asks, tapping her chin as she throws herself over the back of the couch.
“Knowing you?” Tomas scoffs. “Probably somewhere in plain sight because you’d forget to move them!”
“Ha ha, you’re so funny,” Ramona pans. Slumping down, she rests her jaw on the sofa and if it weren’t for her tight dress and immaculately done make-up, I’d say she looks childish. She’s acting that way, at least. Tossing her hair, she groans. “I’m so sick of this! There’s got to be an answer somewhere.”
Tomas steps into the living room with a frown on his face. He’s always frowning these days. “Isn’t that what the ‘ghost tour’ is for?” He asks, raising his fingers to make air quotes.
Ramona glances at me quickly, her mouth going flat.
“I mean, yeah, of course,” I lie quickly. There’s no reason to let him know we’re really just looking for another witch. Considering Eden’s unique heritage, Ramona is beginning to trust her, so we only need one more.
“It’s just, who knows if it will even help,” Ramona cuts in, shrugging.
“Great, you’re making me go to something extremely cheesy with possibly no payoff,” Tomas grumbles.
Since we had so much going on the week Eden showed up, it was agreed that we’d wait until winter break to investigate the basements. Well, it was agreed by everybody except for Tomas and me. The less students on campus, the better, but the longer we wait, the more powerful the hag becomes.
My fingers twitch as I remember the terrible feeling of being on campus and the sound of metal scraping against the sidewalk. I can’t let the haunting continue, and the longer it takes to stop it, the deeper under my skin it gets it. The shifters’ need to track down twisted spirits is finally starting to make sense.
Deadly Darlings (October Darlings Book 2) Page 20
