“What the—?” she panted, pushing herself up and scrambling across the carpet, away from me. She stopped with her back pressed against the wall. Her lip was trembling and she was looking at me like I was the second-scariest thing she’d ever seen. It was déjà vu all over again, and I flashed back to the first time Janis had seen me use my powers. A time that had been carefully scrubbed from her memory. Pig lay on the floor, pawing at her eyes like she was trying to remove a pair of sunglasses. I put my palms over her eyes and bent down so that my forehead was touching hers. “I’m sorry, girlie, it’ll go away. And we’ll find you some food.”
I looked back up at Janis, wondering where to go and what to do next, when I saw someone turn the corner and head toward us, down the hall. Drapey clothing. Silver hair. Wanda, just the person I did and did not want to see. She had a phone in her hand, and her eyes were trained on it, so I had just enough time to shove Janis and Pig into a nearby broom closet. “I’ll explain later,” I said. “Stay here and stay quiet.” Janis stumbled over a mop bucket but nodded, then knelt and wrapped her arms around Pig. As soon as I shut the door, I turned and shouted Wanda’s name.
She looked up sharply and pocketed the phone, causing it to disappear into the folds of her winter culottes. “Esme,” she said, “is everything okay?”
“No, it’s not. There’s a demon outside. Trapped in a dumpster. I trapped it in a dumpster. I tried to Return it, but the Portal wouldn’t open.”
A dark look crossed Wanda’s face, and I could hear her phone buzzing. “Why were you outside?” This was a question that seemed totally beside the point.
“To get some air,” I said. “But we need to do something about the demon. It’s not going to stay there for very long.”
“You’re sure it’s a demon?” she asked, almost smiling. “And not just a big raccoon? The Portals were sealed, remember?”
“I’m sure it was a demon,” I said.
“If it was in the dumpster, it could easily be a raccoon.” Were we really having this conversation? Why was this woman obsessed with raccoons?
“It wasn’t in the dumpster,” I said. “I put it in the dumpster because the Portal wouldn’t open.”
“Of course the Portal won’t open, dear,” Wanda said, her eyes flashing toward her pocket, which was buzzing, and her fingers playing with the folds of her skirt. “It was sealed for the Summit.”
“But if it’s sealed, how is there a demon outside?”
Wanda’s face got stony. “The Portal has only been sealed from the time the Summit started yesterday,” she said. “If there is a demon outside, then it likely slipped through before that, and you and Cassandra did not notice.”
I felt like I’d been slapped, and my mouth fell open a little. I had no idea what to say. “That’s imposs—I-I mean…,” I stammered, trying to wrap my head around her words. It wasn’t impossible, totally, but Cassandra and I had been on top of our game lately. Unless whatever was going on with Cass meant we weren’t as connected as we had been. But even then, I would have known something came through, right? Even if Cass didn’t?
“Now, don’t worry,” Wanda said. “You’re new, and some Sitters make mistakes. I’ll send someone to investigate, and we’ll get it taken care of. Now, please, do not go outside again.”
She was done with our conversation and turning back to whatever was happening on her phone, and before I could respond she was walking quickly away. Considering I was currently hiding my best friend and my dog in the broom closet, it was probably a good thing Wanda didn’t seem to give a flying finger about me at the moment, but still, the whole thing was unsettling. There was a demon, right outside, and not tackling it immediately went against every line of the Sitter code. But I had to choose, and first things first, so I headed to the closet.
I had my fingers on the handle when I groaned. Ugh. I’d forgotten to ask Wanda about my phone. Certainly she, who seemed totally addicted to her own, would understand why I needed my phone back, and ASAP. But I guess that would have to wait even longer.
* * *
—
I opened the door as calmly as possible, to find Janis standing as still as one of the brooms. There was no way I was sending her back outside, which meant she was staying here. Which meant, I guess, that I was telling her everything.
“You can come out now,” I said.
“Oh, so you’re giving us permission to stop standing here, pretending to be mops?”
“Yes,” I said, “I am.”
“That’s very kind of you,” she said, and theatrically stepped around a push broom that wasn’t in her way. She had one hand looped through Pig’s collar, and Pig stayed close by her side, radiating dog vibes that let me know she and Janis were a team right now, and I was the odd girl out. “You better give us an explanation in the next two minutes, or we’re going to cross from mildly-annoyed-but-mostly-worried-about-you into pissed-as-hell-and-thinking-you’re-shady territory. Because something out there thought Pig and I looked like snacks, and not in a good way.”
“It’s a demon,” I said, “from an alternate dimension. From a negative dimension, called the Negative. It wanted to suck all the positivity and good out of you until you were just a sad husk of bleak emotions.”
“Well, great. That’s fantastic,” Janis said. “Glad that didn’t happen.” Just as I was thinking that Janis was taking this exceptionally well, she took two steps, her knees buckled, her head lolled to one side, and she passed the frick out. I caught her before she hit the ground, and back into the broom closet we went. Pig immediately started licking Janis’s face, and I was starting to panic. I couldn’t leave Janis in here—she’d start screaming as soon as she woke up, and get discovered. Plus, I was pretty sure “leaving-your-passed-out-best-friend-in-a-closet-full-of-cleaning-supplies” was in violation of every best-friend accord ever written. I had no idea how to revive someone who had just fainted. In old movies, people were always waving smelling salts under their noses, but who knew what smelling salts were. Then, as if she had been reading my mind, Pig let one rip.
“Oh God,” I said, quickly blocking my nostrils, and then Janis twitched and sat up.
“What is that smell?” she said. “Did something die?”
“Not yet,” I said. “And you know what that smell is, but no more questions right now. Just please trust me. We have to get you to my room or they won’t let you stay.”
“We’re at a hotel,” Janis said, swaying a little as she stood up. “I remember now. But you haven’t told me why you’re here. Are you in a cult? Is it a mime cult? Is that why you’re wearing a beret?” She swallowed. “Are they force-feeding you applesauce?”
“Oh my God,” I said, grabbing her hand. “I’m not in a cult, and not all cults eat applesauce. Just please, come with me now, and hurry.”
Pig, pleased with herself for reviving Janis, licked Janis’s face as she bent down to take off her shoes, which were Lady Miss Kier–era Fluevogs. Goddess love Janis—who else channeled Deee-Lite for a day of going to the post office? She even had on a wide elastic headband, a Pucci-esque button-up shirt, and dangly earrings with red plastic hearts.
“Here,” I said, “I’ll hold your shoes.” I took the Fluevogs in one hand and grabbed ahold of her arm with the other, then led us down the hallway and into the stairwell. Pig’s vision seemed to have returned, and she stuck close to our heels. We crept up the stairs, and we were lucky that everyone seemed to still be down at dinner, because when I opened the door to the fourth-floor hallway, it was empty.
“When I say run, we run,” I said. Janis nodded, and Pig seemed to understand too, because seconds later, the three of us were sprinting toward room 402. I got the door open quickly, and when we tumbled inside, I breathed a sigh of relief that we were alone.
Not too deep a sigh, though, as the air still reeked like crazy. Beside me, Janis
wasn’t saying anything, and I turned around to see that she was taking in the state of the room. The sheets were in tangles on the beds, and every flat surface was covered—with clothes, with makeup, with magazine pages that had been ripped out and crumpled into balls. Pig apparently needed no time to adjust. She instantly pawed across the room and made a nest out of Amirah’s Moncler puffer jacket, which was lying half in, half out of the bathroom.
I expected Janis to say something about the smell, but instead, she crossed the room, got down on her hands and knees, and partially crawled under Amirah’s bed. “Esme,” she said, crawling back out and holding up a hot pink satin Louboutin. “Seriously, what the eff?”
“I’m sure the other one is around here somewhere,” I said.
“Beside the point!” Janis snapped, pushing herself up to her feet. Then she held the shoe out and waggled it in my face. “Why are you here? Why don’t you have your phone? Why did you lie and say you were going to visit a made-up aunt and then come stay in a hotel in downtown Spring River? And who the heck owns this shoe?”
I decided to be honest, to start with the easiest of those questions. “My phone got confiscated because I forgot to turn the ringer off,” I said, “and I haven’t been able to get it back. And I’m here for a thing. I didn’t want to tell you, because it’s kind of weird. But it was a thing my mom did. Cassandra’s mom was in it too, back when they were friends, and now we’re doing it. Kind of in their honor, I guess. I didn’t really have a choice, and I’m not supposed to talk about it. But I’m here to learn about stuff, and meet other people…” I wasn’t sure where I was going with this, because contrary to everything I was saying, it sounded like I’d joined a…
“Esme,” Janis gasped, “you did join a cult!”
“No, it’s not like that at all,” I started, “or wait, it’s only kind of like that. And that shoe belongs to my roommate. She’s from New York. And she’s rich.”
“Why are you keeping her, and her wardrobe, from me?” Janis said, pointing at a shirt flung over the back of a chair. “That’s Versace!”
“I just met her yesterday,” I said. “She’s in the cult too. Wait, I mean, there is no cult, but her mom knew my mom. I think. Or they were coworkers.”
“And what is this shadowy organization and its dream wardrobe?” Janis asked.
“It’s like Girl Scouts,” I settled on finally. “Where you learn skills, and how to be a good citizen. It’s not a cult, but there are rules, and secrets.”
“No one puts LSD in the applesauce?”
“No,” I said. “There’s no applesauce, at all. I mean, there is, but you don’t have to eat it.” I was having trouble keeping my own story straight, and Janis’s focus on applesauce wasn’t helping. When someone knocked on the door, I jumped so high I practically levitated.
“Bathroom, bathroom,” I hissed at Janis and Pig, yet neither of them moved an inch.
“I’m not hiding from anyone until you tell me what’s going on here,” Janis said. Pig seemed to be taking her side, since all that moved was her ears as she perked them toward me.
“Fine,” I said, walking to the door, but I relaxed when I looked through the peephole and saw that it was Cassandra. I opened the door and yanked her in. Cassandra surveyed the scene, and a smile crept onto her lips.
“Wow,” she said. “You’ve been busy. Are you bringing your dad here next?”
“I wish,” I said. “And you have no idea. Cass, there was a demon outside. I trapped it in a dumpster and told Wanda, but she tried to blame it on us and—” I stopped when the Louboutin went whizzing by my head, so close I could feel it. Cassandra ducked, and I spun around to face Janis, who crossed her arms over her chest.
“So, she’s in the cult too? Who’s her roommate? Someone from Beverly Hills?”
“There’s no cult, and I don’t know the people from Beverly Hills—” I started, but Janis cut me off.
“Esme,” she said, “I’m not playing, and neither is Pig. An explanation now, or I start screaming and Pig starts barking and we don’t stop until we’ve brought the whole cult running.”
“Cult?” Cassandra said.
“She’s obsessed with applesauce,” I said, by way of explanation. I could feel three sets of eyes on me, everyone waiting to see what I was going to do or say next. Really, there was only one option. “Cassandra, I think we should tell Janis,” I said.
Cassandra looked at me. “Tell Janis what?”
“Yeah, Esme,” Janis said. “Tell Janis what?”
“Everything,” I answered, and Cassandra raised an eyebrow.
“Your call,” Cassandra said. “If Esme Pearl wants to break a rule, I’m certainly not going to stop her. Besides, Janis is your friend, not mine.”
“Thanks for clarifying that,” Janis said. “Because I was just sitting here thinking that I came to visit you.”
“Okay,” I said to Janis. “You have to promise you won’t get mad.”
“What? You want me to pinkie swear or something? This isn’t middle school, Esme, and I will promise no such thing.”
“The Synod will just microwave her brain again,” Cassandra said.
“No, they won’t,” I said, somehow sure of myself. “I won’t let that happen.”
“Oh yeah?” Cassandra said. “And how will you manage that?”
“I don’t know. I’ll figure it out.”
“There’s a spell that will make her immune,” Cassandra said.
My head swiveled so fast, I thought my neck might snap. “What?”
“I don’t remember what was in it, but I saw it. In one of Brian’s spell books,” Cassandra said.
“And you’re just mentioning this now?”
“It wasn’t relevant before now,” Cassandra said.
As usual, I was filled with competing urges. One, to hug Cassandra; the other, to throw an alarm clock at her or strangle her with the bedsheets.
“Excuse me,” Janis said. “You’re talking about microwaving a brain like that brain isn’t sitting right in front of you still trying to decide whether it should make its mouth start screaming.” She gave me the Janis look. The don’t-mess-with-me babysitting look I’d seen doled out before, but never been on the receiving end of.
I held out my pinkie. “I know we’re not in middle school anymore, and you can get mad. I just want you to swear you believe me, that I never meant to hurt you and I will never mean to hurt you.”
A beat passed, and then Janis held out her pinkie and I looped mine through it. “You’re my best friend,” I said.
“Freaking heck,” she said. “I know that. Just tell me.”
So I did. About my powers, and the Sitter spells, and meeting Cassandra, and Brian. Dion dressing as Voldemort and trying to kidnap Andrew Reynolds when Janis was babysitting. I told her about Halloween, and about Erebus and MacKenzie and the Portal and Mom.
She held up her hand. “Wait a second,” she said. “Cassandra’s brother, the hot, dumb one—I hit him with a chair?”
“Yeah, but you didn’t know it was him,” I told her. “And he’s not really that dumb. Or wait, he is dumb, but he’s not as dumb as he seems.”
Janis nodded. “And the football coach, the one who’s always in a tracksuit, he’s in on it too? And he’s an interior designer?”
I nodded. “And he actually has really good taste,” I said. “If you like things that match.”
Pig had moved over to sit next to Janis, who stroked Pig’s ear as she thought. “So how long does this thing last?” she asked finally.
“Just until tomorrow night,” I said. “Then we all go home.”
“No, not this Summit,” Janis said. “I mean you being a Sitter.”
“Forever, I guess,” I said. “I mean, at some point, my powers will fade and I’ll stop having to chase demons, but I’l
l always be a Sitter.”
“Do you like it?”
“I don’t think it matters whether I like it. It’s what I do, and it’s what I am.”
Janis took a deep breath and crinkled her nose. The room still smelled like pot if you sniffed hard enough. “So what does this mean for me?” she asked. “Now that I know about you, does this mean I get to hit someone with a chair again?” She coughed. “I mean, have to hit someone with a chair.”
I laughed. “I hope not,” I said. “But it does put you in danger. We were specifically told not to tell you. Every time a non-Sitter finds out about Sitter stuff, the Synod knocks that knowledge right out of their brains. I don’t want that to keep happening to you if you don’t want it to. Like Cass said, there’s supposedly a spell that will prevent the memory eraser from working. I don’t know what it is, but I can try to find out. On the other hand, if you don’t want to know any of this stuff, that’s cool too.”
Janis had a faraway look. “That thing in the dumpster,” she said. “It was awful. You have to deal with those a lot?”
“Not that one specifically, but yeah, things like it. They’re all awful.” I looked at Janis sitting there, her Fluevog shoes lying on the floor amid all of Amirah’s stuff, her headband slightly askew, but still with more groove in her heart than ten thousand non-Janis people. She was the bravest person I knew. I would have hidden under the bed by now. “Honestly, Janis, I don’t blame you at all if you don’t want to know any of this. It’s a lot, and it’s not…pleasant.”
Janis rolled her eyes. “Of course I want to know. It’s the truth, right? I’m not trying to sit here in a bubble.” It sounded like the wind was picking up again outside, and Janis’s eyes flickered back to the window. “So, you’re in this hotel until tomorrow night?”
I nodded. “There’s like a party thing that Cassandra and I are supposed to be planning, and when that’s done, we get to go home.”
For Better or Cursed Page 19
