“Oh, Piggy,” I sighed. I bent down and stroked her head. “Such a sensitive blockhead you are. Okay, come on.” As I was grabbing Pig’s leash, Cassandra opened the door and shut it again immediately.
“How are we going to get Janis and Pig out of here?” she asked.
“The way I got them in,” I said. “We take the stairs and we run.” Cassandra shook her head.
“No way,” she said. “It’s too risky. It’s one thing to get caught sneaking them in; it’s so much more to get caught sneaking them out. The Synod will zap their brains for sure.”
At this, Janis froze and started to shake her head. “No, no, no,” she said. “I don’t want that to happen.” She looked at the door. “I guess I’m staying here, then. But before I give you my keys, you at least have to tell me what’s going on.”
Cassandra still had one hand on the door. “When I came back from the Negative, I remembered everything at first,” she said. “But I was tired, and we had to get that kid home, and I’d basically just had my world rocked by the revelation that my brother, who I’d always thought was an idiot, was even dumber than I had imagined and that he was also a backstabber. And it was confusing. I wanted to sleep and needed time to process everything. To write stuff down. So when we got home that night, I locked Dion in a closet and then passed out. But when I woke up in the morning, my head was empty. I couldn’t remember the very thing I had wanted to spend time thinking about. I don’t know if you’ve ever come back to your room, and you can just tell someone has been there, even though they tried not to leave a trace?”
I shook my head, but Janis nodded. “Jason, my little brother. He’s always going through my stuff, looking for quarters. He thinks he’s being sneaky, but I can tell, because everything’s just a little neater than it was before.”
Cassandra nodded. “Exactly,” she said. “But it was like someone had done that to my brain. And when I tried to think of the Negative, I knew it was bad, but I couldn’t remember any specifics, even though I knew I’d known them at some point. But now I do remember specifics,” she said. “A lot of them, which is how I know the curse is gone. You can’t use mnenokinesis on a Sitter, but you can curse them so they won’t remember stuff and so no one will take them seriously if they do. That’s what all the demons said had happened to your mom.”
“Wait, you talked to them?” I gasped. “And they talked about my mom?”
Cassandra nodded. “They know about her because my dad talks about her. That has to be why I was cursed too. It wasn’t to get us back for anything, or for ransom. It was so that we wouldn’t be able to remember or to talk. But now I remember everything I learned on Halloween.” She stopped, and paused for so long that I wasn’t sure she was going to start again.
“And?” Janis said. “Don’t leave us hanging.”
“The demons talked to me,” Cassandra continued. “They knew I was Erebus’s daughter, and so they talked to me about him.”
“What did they say?”
“Some of them wanted to complain about him. Apparently, half my genes come from a person even demons find annoying. But others wanted to find out what I thought about everything he’s saying.”
“What is he saying?” I asked, trying to follow.
“He claims he was falsely imprisoned and that he’s innocent of the charges brought against him,” Cassandra said.
“Ha, isn’t that what all guilty people say?”
“Sure, but they seem to believe him. And they’re demons, so wouldn’t they be able to spot a lie?”
I huffed. It was a flimsy argument, but also the only argument we had at the moment. “Sure,” I said, “why not?”
“Apparently, he told everyone down there that there was one person who could corroborate his story and that he was going to find her as soon as he got out.”
“Your mom?” I asked.
Cassandra shook her head. “No,” she said. “Your mom.”
“No way,” I said, shocked. “He’s the whole reason my mom is the way she is. She can’t even string together a sentence because of him, and he thinks she would stand up for him?”
“I don’t know!” Cassandra protested. “I’m just telling you what they told me.”
“Erebus thinks my mom would help him?” I asked. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous that sounded, but there was a part of me that was starting to take it seriously. “The first thing she said when she came back was, ‘Don’t let him leave.’ She hates him.” I sat there and let what Cass was saying wash over me. “What do we do? We can’t ask her. And if he didn’t curse her, then who did?”
“I have an idea,” Cassandra said, “but it’s a long shot, and I need some proof. So we’re going to ask him.”
“You’re not thinking of opening up that hole again?” Janis said, and to my relief, Cassandra shook her head.
“No way,” she said. “We’ll use the 8 Ball. We just have to go and get it. So…” She plastered a smile on her face and batted her eyelashes as she held out one hand to Janis. “Your keys, please.”
* * *
—
For what felt like the millionth time already that morning, Cassandra and I took the elevator back downstairs. She was right—everyone else was in the Laurie Strode Auditorium, waiting for Wanda’s Sitter history lecture, and when we turned the opposite way and headed down the hall to the back entrance, we didn’t pass a single person. I was starting to get used to this feeling. Everyone else was learning, or dining, or hanging out—and Cassandra and I were in the hall.
We pushed the back door open. Janis’s car was still parked in the same spot where she’d left it that night. Its doors weren’t locked, and the backseat was filled with packed and ready-to-go Depop boxes. Cassandra climbed into the driver’s seat, and I got in and buckled my seat belt. When she turned the key to start the car, I braced myself for the sounds of “Jingle Bell Rock.” Instead, there was just static.
I took a closer look at the radio as Cassandra pulled out of the parking lot. That was weird. It was tuned to a station that I knew for a fact existed. I hit Scan and it stopped on the next frequency up. There were a few notes of “White Christmas” before the DJ cut in.
“Folks, sorry to interrupt that classic,” he said, “ ’cause I know how much ya love it, but I’ve got an emergency update here from animal control. As of now, they have still not been able to capture that bobcat everyone’s been seeing around town.”
“I’ll tell you what, Bob,” a female voice broke in, “it sure doesn’t sound like a bobcat to me.”
“Well, that’s what they’re saying it is, hahaha,” Bob said, laughing nervously. “And they’re suggesting that everyone stay inside, with the shades drawn and the doors locked, until they get a handle on the situation.”
“Sure, sure,” said the female voice, “We will let you know updates as we hear them, but in the meantime, here’s some ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ for you, and our condolences go out to our fellow station, KMWA over at 102.5.” She cleared her throat. “Apparently this bobcat took out their tower last night.” Then the music came back on, and Cassandra switched the radio off.
“Bobcat, my butt,” she said, as she ran a red light to make a left turn. It didn’t seem to matter—there were no cars on the street.
“That sounds like a demon to me,” I said. “Exactly what those people were talking about in Janis’s feed. The one I saw yesterday was a Flash, and even the city government couldn’t pretend that was a bobcat, so there has to be more than one. What’s going on? The Portal is supposed to be sealed.”
“It’s clearly not, though,” Cassandra said, slowing down as she swerved around a large tree branch that had fallen in the middle of the street, looking like it had been ripped right off the rest of the tree.
“When I told Wanda about the demon outside the hotel, she said it was probably one that
we let slip through before the Portal was sealed.”
“She’s lying,” Cassandra said. “Because we don’t make mistakes like that.”
“But it is sealed in a way,” I said, “because I couldn’t get it open for a Return. So maybe it’s like a one-way seal? But why would the Synod do that? Why would they want all the demons to come out of the Negative, but not go back in?” Just saying it out loud sent a chill down my spine.
“I don’t know,” Cassandra said, “but there’s no way it’s good.”
When we pulled up at her house, I could tell she was worried about Dion by the way she jumped out of the car and practically ran up the sidewalk. I was on her heels as she went straight to Dion’s bedroom and threw the door open without knocking. Even though it was the middle of the afternoon, he was asleep, a pizza box with a half-eaten pizza taking up the other side of his bed.
Cassandra went down the hall to her room and came out holding a block of ice. She turned on the hot water in the bathroom sink and put the ice block under it. As the ice melted, she kept stepping out into the hallway and looking toward Dion’s room. He must be a really heavy sleeper.
“Do you want to bring him back to the hotel with us?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “But I am going to order him to stay in the house and hide, until this thing is over. If I tell him to do it, he will.”
The ice was melting, and Cassandra banged it against the side of the sink, breaking off a chunk, and then she set the 8 Ball in the sink. She went back to Dion’s room and kicked his mattress. He grunted and rolled over, but didn’t wake up. Cassandra grabbed the edge of his comforter and yanked it off the bed. Sudden exposure to the cold air shocked Dion into sitting up, and he looked around, confused as hell. Even in my pretty-much-hating-Dion state, I had to admit that just-waking-up-Dion was a good look.
“What the…?” he choked out. The panic on his face was replaced with annoyance as he realized the what was his sister. He took the edge of the comforter and yanked it back. “What time is it and why are you even home?” he asked, pulling the comforter up to his chin.
“It’s after noon,” Cassandra said. “Most people are up by now.”
“There was an Are You Afraid of the Dark? marathon on last night,” he said, pushing himself up to sitting, “and when it was done, I realized I am afraid of the dark, and couldn’t fall alseep until the sun came up.”
Cassandra sighed. “Listen to me for a second,” she said, and Dion’s face got serious. “I’m not staying here, and you can sleep all day if you want, but you have to do it in the basement, and you cannot leave the house. Under no circumstances do you leave here,” she repeated. “Esme and I are leaving, and you dead bolt the door behind us, and go to the basement, okay?” She paused. “You can leave the light on.”
Dion didn’t argue, but just stood up and grabbed his comforter like it was a blankie. “Hi, Esme,” he said, looking out into the hall at me.
“Hi, Dion,” I said.
Cassandra went back in the bathroom, where the ice had melted and the 8 Ball sat in the bathroom sink under a stream of running water. She turned off the faucet, dried the 8 Ball off, and then wrapped it in a towel. She headed toward the door. I followed her, and Dion followed me. When Cassandra and I were on the porch, she turned to him. “Go to the basement, remember?” she said. “And don’t come out until I come back and tell you it’s okay.”
Dion nodded. “Got it,” he said, then gave us a cheery wave. “Have fun!” He shut the door, and I heard the dead bolt slide into place with a click.
Cassandra and I walked to the car, and when we were both in, she tossed the 8 Ball into my lap before she started the car. “Come on, you a-hole,” I said, shaking the 8 Ball, “talk to us.” I flipped it over. Blue bubbles and then an icosahedron floated to the surface.
Reply hazy, try again.
So I did. “Come on, you a-hole. Talk to us.”
My sources say no.
I turned to Cass. “Cass, when you were in the Negative, you used it to talk to me. How?”
“It was easy,” she said. “I just thought about it, and then you answered.”
“So we can’t talk to Erebus,” I said, “unless he wants to talk to us.”
Cassandra nodded, as she suddenly spun the wheel into a right turn. “Which is why we’re taking him to the person he most wants to talk to.”
“My mom,” I said, and swallowed nervously. Cassandra floored it.
* * *
—
We pulled up to Mom’s facility and Cassandra parked in a loading zone. She took the 8 Ball from me, and we got out and ran up the steps two at a time. The entrance was locked, but I was able to use my kinesis to open it easily. The front desk was usually staffed with at least three people, but only Marie was sitting there. “Girls,” she said, gasping, and jumped up from her seat. “How did you get in here? Wasn’t the door locked?”
Crap. I liked Marie and didn’t want to worry her. “It wasn’t,” I lied. “But we made sure it is now.”
Marie frowned as she sat back down. “I don’t like that at all,” she said. “We’re trying to make sure no one, or no thing, gets in or out.” Her voice dropped as she looked around quickly to make sure no residents might have heard her. “You two shouldn’t be out by yourselves,” she said.
“It’s okay,” Cassandra said. “We can handle it. We’ve got a gun.” I almost kicked Cassandra in the shin, but Marie actually seemed to find it comforting.
“You’ve seen the news, then?” she said. “What do you think it is? They’re saying it’s a bobcat or something, but I don’t know….My husband says I’m being silly and that I’ve got too much imagination.”
I didn’t want to say anything that would make Marie distrust her own correct intuition, but I also didn’t want to worry her. “It’s probably a bobcat,” I said, slowly. “Or something.”
She swallowed and nodded. I noticed a holiday tin sitting next to her, filled with tiny brown balls that, truth be told, did not look appetizing at all. “Ooh,” I forced myself to squeal, “are those your rum balls?”
Sufficiently distracted, Marie clapped her hands, then reached for the tin. “Oh, you know it,” she said, holding it out to us. “One per person, please.”
Cassandra and I each took one and popped them into our mouths. “Wow,” I said, as my tongue was coated with chocolate and spices. I had been totally wrong. “These are delicious.”
Marie beamed, and Cassandra nodded. “This is the best Christmas cookie I’ve ever had,” she said.
“There’s rum in them,” Marie said, with a wink, “so don’t tell your mom. Come on, I’ll let you in the ward.” We waited for Marie to walk out from behind the desk, and as soon as her back was to us, Cassandra reached over the desk and grabbed two more rum balls.
Mom’s ward was half-empty, and she was sitting outside of her room wearing a Fort Lauderdale sweatshirt and a pair of acid-washed jeans. Her hair was pulled back with an Arizona Razorbacks scrunchie, and she was gripping the arms of her chair.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, talking to her the way I had ever since I’d learned she could hear and understand everything I was saying. “Some bobcat, huh?” I held out the 8 Ball. “We brought someone who wants to talk to you.” I took her by the elbow and she stood up, and then we walked back into her room. Cassandra shut the door behind us, and I helped Mom sit down on the bed. “We need to ask Erebus some questions,” I said. “We can talk to him through this toy, because it’s somehow enchanted to make one-way calls from the Negative.” Suddenly, I had a thought, and I looked up at Cassandra as I held the 8 Ball. “This is Red Magic, isn’t it?” I said. “Whatever it is that makes this a communication device.”
“Oh, most definitely,” she said.
I turned back to Mom. “We don’t know how to get ahold of him, but we know he wants to
talk to you,” I explained. “We were hoping that if you held it, he would show up.” I put the 8 Ball in Mom’s hands and then wrapped my hands around hers. Then I shook our hands and turned the ball over.
You may rely on it, it said. Then, before my eyes, the icosahedron started to spin, and when it surfaced again, it said, Ah, Theresa, and I could practically hear Erebus’s slimy voice saying the words. It’s been too long.
We had him.
I took the ball from Mom and shook it again.
“Sorry, loser,” I said. “It’s us. We need to talk.” I passed the 8 Ball to Cassandra, who shook it.
“Hello, Father,” she said. “Remember me?”
She held it out so I could see the answer. Haha. Then, How could I forget? It spun again. How are you?
“Doing pretty good,” she said. “Except I was cursed for a while. I’m not anymore, but the town is being ravaged by demons and we’re supposed to be shut up in a hotel for a Summit.”
The icosahedron started to spin furiously, and when it came up, it just said Moan. Then it spun again. Summits are the worst, it said. A bunch of Sitters getting together to pat themselves on the back. It was amazing how sneering insults seemed to lose their vitriol when delivered just a few words at a time.
“Do you know who would want to curse me?” Cassandra asked.
No one down here, it said. I wouldn’t let anyone curse my daughter. Cassandra looked at me and rolled her eyes.
“But you did curse my mom, right?” I said, deciding to see whether I could provoke him.
Did not.
“Did too.”
Did not, it still said, and I stopped myself when I could see where this was going.
“You hate my mom,” I said.
I do.
“And she hates you.”
For Better or Cursed Page 24
