by E.J. Stevens
I was glad to be able to make Gordy smile again. I waved and turned back to my table where Emma sat scowling. It suddenly occurred to me that anything that made Gordy happy made Emma miserable, and vice versa. Maybe it was a good thing that they hadn’t stayed together after al .
Cal greeted me with a smile and reached up to brush my hair back behind my ears. I leaned in closer and closed my eyes. Cal’s hands moved deeper into my hair as he brushed his lips against mine. More.
I waited for my second kiss, but instead, with a flick of warm tongue, Cal licked a patch of skin beside my mouth.
My eyes flew open in surprise to meet Cal’s smiling eyes and toothy grin.
“Wha…wha…what?” I stuttered. “I mean, why did you just lick my face?”
I was total y confused. Was this some kind of wolf thing? If so, I was not liking this new development. At least, I didn’t think I was. Great, now I’m blushing.
The skin around Cal’s eyes crinkled even more and he let out a laugh before leaning in to whisper in my ear.
“Because you’re delicious,” Cal said. “And you had a piece of rice on your face.”
Okay, now I’m really blushing. I could feel the burn of my cheeks as Cal’s voice echoed in my head. Because you’re delicious. He did not just say that. No, wait, he did.
We were so in trouble. How were we ever going to make it through graduation if al we could think about were each other’s yummy kisses? Cal’s new attraction to danger and excitement wasn’t helping any. Could we get detention for what he just did? There was something thril ing about knowing he just licked my face in front of the entire school, though no one actual y knew that’s what he was going. Wel , except for maybe Emma who was giving us a funny look.
“I’m trying to decide whether to tel you two to get a room or go barf in the trash can,” Emma said. “I’m leaning room or go barf in the trash can,” Emma said. “I’m leaning toward the second choice. You are both getting way too weird. And gross.”
Cal barked out a laugh and slid his fingers down my arm to entwine with mine. His touch, and Emma’s comments, only made me blush more. Looks like Emma saw Cal lick my face after al .
Now that wasn’t awkward or anything.
Chapter 5
Mental y I prayed for a distraction from the whole rice fiasco. I didn’t like people staring at me and Emma was looking at me like I might suddenly sprout a Siamese twin. I tried manifesting my best inner Obi Wan. This is not the freak you are looking for.
Fortunately for me, the bel rang and we al set off in different directions for class. I guess I real y could use the power of the force. With a bounce in my booted step, I turned the corner to my locker…and ran face first into a footbal player shaped brick wal .
Before I could mumble an apology, big, meaty hands clamped over my mouth as someone grabbed me from behind and slid something slippery over my head. Judging from the swish of the slick fabric, and the repulsive smel of sweat, I guessed that they had pul ed a footbal jersey over my head as a makeshift hood. What the heck?
This could not possibly be good. People didn’t just bump into you in the hal s and thrust a sweaty hood over your face for kicks. Maybe it was some kind of weird fourth year hazing ritual? Please let this be some kind of senior prank. Please, please, please.
I tried to scream. I didn’t care if this was some hazing blitz that would end up on YouTube where everyone could laugh at me shrieking in fear, but the guy with the big hand kept it securely over my mouth. Okay, I wasn’t real y the violent type, but I was about to go al ninja on this guy. I swung my legs forward then stabbed them backward, aiming my heavy boots into the body of Mr. Meaty Hands. I chose that moment to bite down on the hand covering my mouth.
Meaty Hands let go as my teeth sunk into his hand and my booted feet connected with what I guessed was his leg, but my little woot moment was short-lived. I may have been free of Mr. Meaty Hands, but I was now the victim of gravity.
I dropped to the ground where I hit my head against something hard. My vision swam, not that I could see much from inside the makeshift hood, and the pounding in my head nearly made me throw up. The footbal jersey already stank of sweaty jock funk, so I tried to keep my head as stil as possible. I didn’t need to add rice pudding vomit to the interior.
“The Witch bit me!” Meaty Hands wailed.
Suddenly he wasn’t such a tough guy. Meaty Hands sounded like he was going to cry. I guess my dark goth mojo was good for putting fear into the hearts of giganto jocks. Unfortunately it was probably how I got here in the first place.
“Xenophobic toad,” I muttered, surprising myself.
I hadn’t realized until then that I could speak out loud. I guess I hit my head harder than I thought.
Someone stuffed a gag in my mouth before I could try to cal for help. Please don’t be a gym sock. A nasty, old gym sock would real y be a gag—like, gag me with a spoon.
“See, she’s going to turn me into a toad!” Meaty Hands shrieked.
Wow, that kid was real y losing it. He must total y believe I have scary witchy powers. Good to know. I tried to think of a plan where I could scare them al into letting me go, but someone grabbed me and pul ed me to my feet. I staggered and moaned at the throbbing pain in my head and was lifted and tossed over some guy’s shoulder.
I stifled a whimper and tried to think. There was no way to know how many guys were involved or where we were going. I listened intently, hoping to get my bearings.
Occasional y I would hear the murmur of voices, but they always stayed in the distance and I wondered if the comforting sounds of other people were just figments of my imagination.
It felt like we were walking in circles, but that may have been from the spinning in my head. Probably have a concussion. I was pretty sure that people with concussions were not supposed to be hung upside down and bounced repeatedly against a lumpy jock back. Too bad I had bigger things to worry about.
The guy carrying me ducked low, making my stomach do rol er coaster style somersaults, and a door slammed shut behind us as he straightened. A moment later he set me down against what may have been boxes and grabbed my hands, holding them behind my back. Were we in some supply closet, storage room, Box-R-Us?
I heard a snarky laugh and the sound gave me chil s. I knew that laugh. One of the guys was Jay Freeman, which meant the J-Team was involved with this, whatever this was.
The smel of motor oil was overwhelming, but it wasn’t coming from my attacker. Apparently the ghost of Dylan Jacobs was here too. We must still be on school grounds.
The thought gave me hope.
Cal will come. He’ll realize that I’m not in class and he will come for me. I know he will. I believed in Cal. I had faith in my friends. If they knew that I was in danger, they would be here in a second. The problem was that they may not realize I’m missing in time…and time wasn’t something I had a lot of. I was sure of it.
As if to punctuate that point, Jay ripped the footbal jersey from my head, nearly taking my nose with it, and started his maniacal laughter again. Now that’s not creepy or anything.
Jay paced back and forth in front of me while laughing and gesticulating wildly. The other half of the J-team, Jared Zempter, stood glaring down at me with feet firmly planted hip width apart and arms folded. It looked like something he rehearsed in the mirror. Practice much? I wanted badly to say something witty, but now was not the time.
It’s also hard to be snarky with a gag in your mouth.
There was something wild and menacing in the eyes of the footbal players lining the wal s of the storeroom. Jay, who had always been a jerk with a violent streak, looked manic and unhinged. Dude was totally off his meds. The situation looked real y bad.
I didn’t have al of the details, but the strong motor oil stench coming from Dylan’s ghost combined with Jay and Jared’s earlier threats gave me a clue as to what had happened. The footbal team, with the urging of the J-team, had become convinced that I was responsibl
e for the death of their teammate Dylan Jacobs. They were upset about Dylan’s death and were now out for revenge.
The fact that I had nothing to do with Dylan’s accident didn’t seem to matter. Fear and anger were powerful motivators for bad behavior and these guys were used to solving problems with their fists, not their brains. Okay, officially scared now and ready for my rescue.
Jay stopped pacing directly in front of me and bent down to sneer at my crumpled form.
“Not so tough now, are you, Witch?” Jay said. “Hard to cast your black magic spel s and curses when you’re bound and gagged. Freak. ”
The last word he spat out with such force that spittle flew out of his mouth and hit my cheek. I don’t know why this angered me more than al of the other indignities that I’d already suffered, but I felt my temperature rise like my blood was about to boil. How dare he call me a freak and spit in my face?
These were the guys who tried to ruin every moment of my high school life. Jay and Jared were bul ies who used fear, ridicule, and brute force to stay popular. I always knew that they were a menace, but never in my wildest nightmares did I imagine they would go this far. I should have felt afraid. I should have shrunk down inside myself in terror, but the burst of fiery energy that flared up from my bel y to burn with white hot intensity was not fear but pure unadulterated rage.
As my anger flared, I caught the smel of lavender and honey. Something nagged at me that I had smel ed this particular scent before. It was actual y amazing that I could particular scent before. It was actual y amazing that I could smel anything over Dylan’s smel impression. The room had quickly fil ed with a motor oil miasma that seem to cling to everything, including the gag stuffed in my mouth. The pleasant scent of lavender and honey was a welcome change.
I raised my head to look Jay directly in the eye and gave him my very best glare. If there’s one thing goth girls can do best, it’s a scary glare. I was not going to cower for their amusement. My anger flared again and my ankle started to itch. Unfortunately, my hands were stil being held behind my back and my boot covered ankle was on the floor out of reach. I glanced at my boots in frustration and realized that the itchy ankle was the one encircled by my spirit ink tattoo. The same spirit ink that smelled of lavender and honey.
A few months ago, when I asked for my tattoo, I had forced Phil, the spirit ink dude, to tel me what was real y in the ink. According to Phil, each living werewolf contained the soul of a wolf and the soul of a human. The wolf souls live on and are reborn into the next generation of werewolves. Each human soul, however passes on at the end of its life. The human souls of werewolves are not reborn, but they can be cal ed upon in a special ful moon ceremony. In this ceremony the ancestor spirits are asked if they wil bless the union by giving a smal piece of their soul to become a part of the spirit ink.
Apparently Phil had held back information. Not real y surprising. The guy was slippery and it had been difficult getting him to talk at al . I had assumed that the ancestors who chose to be a part of the spirit ink were only helping to bless the union between me and Cal, but now I was in a scary situation and extremely angry. Maybe the spirits in my tattoo responded to danger or strong emotions. There was definitely something going on with my tattoo and I could smel the lavender and honey scent growing stronger.
I wasn’t sure if the spirits could actual y do anything to help, but it was comforting to know that I wasn’t alone.
“She’s giving you the evil eye!” Meaty Hands yel ed.
Actual y, now that I could see his face I recognized him from my neighborhood. I think his name was Ed or Eddy.
“I’m not scared of her lookin’ at me,” Jay sneered.
“But the witch is dangerous,” Meaty Hands Eddy whined. “She bit me earlier and threatened to turn me into a toad.”
I rol ed my eyes and tried to shrug, but the guy behind me stil had my wrists in his vice-like grip.
“Of course she’s dangerous,” Jay said. “She’s a freaky witch.”
Jay looked around the room and al of the guys nodded with enthusiasm. Great, they all really do think I’m a witch.
I had been hanging onto the hope that only a few of them had been brainwashed by the J-team and that the rest had just come along for something to do. You know, laugh at the frightened goth girl trapped in the supply room. Just another day at Wakefield High.
“Reverse the spel , Witch,” Jared snarled.
I flinched. Jared had been silently brooding and staring for so long that I almost forgot he could speak. Reverse the spell. What did he mean by that?
“Yeah, freak, that’s why we’re here,” Jay said. “Wel , that and a little fun after.”
Oh I really did not like the sound of that.
I had to find a way out of this, fast. Think, Yuki, think. I looked at my ankle trying to wil the spirits there to come to my aid. My boots where sprawled against the concrete floor and I side stomped my foot in frustration, which gave me an idea.
We had discovered that I could cal Cal’s wolf spirit by dancing. I may be gagged and held in a little heap on the floor, but I could stil move my legs and feet. I just hoped that it was enough. My boots tapped a beat against the concrete while I held the image of Cal’s wolf in my mind. It was harder than before. Holding my focus was difficult with Jay and Jared staring down at me like I was a bug that they wanted to squash.
“Do what we say, Witch,” Jared said. “Reverse the spel you put on our quarterback. Bring Dylan Jacobs back to life.”
Wow, these guys were completely messed up. They thought I was some kind of witch with the powers of necromancy? I could barely coax a potted plant to wilted zombie status. Emma said I had a black thumb. There was no way that I could bring a person back to life.
Have I mentioned how difficult it was to concentrate on Cal’s wolf spirit? Take that and now multiply it by a gazil ion. The smel of lavender, honey, and motor oil were overwhelming and fear was creeping in like a spider after a spring rain. No matter how much you don’t want it to be there, it slips through the cracks and scuttles in the shadows. My concentration was being splintered and unconsciousness threatened.
That’s when I felt his presence. I was greeted with the smel of wet dog and sunshine and could suddenly see Cal’s wolf spirit in my mind’s eye. I used my last bit of wil to concentrate on sending the wolf spirit a message. Help.
Bring Cal. I’m being held somewhere in the school.
Please hurry.
I looked up at Jay and Jared and nodded my head, hoping to look weak and eager to please. I needed to buy Cal time to find me.
“Good, help us and things won’t go as bad for you,” Jared said.
Jay looked momentarily disappointed, but that manic gleam returned quickly.
“What do you need for the spel ?” Jay asked, yanking the gag from my mouth. “Do you need blood? I saw a movie where they needed blood to work the dark arts.” This guy was total y sick in the head. He obviously wanted to, like, skin a cat…or me. The horribleness of the situation sank in further and I started shaking. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to be al tough girl, but there was something twisted and wrong in Jay’s eyes. He wanted to see blood. How messed up is that?
The smel of lavender and honey grew more powerful and it gave me an idea. Cal was probably already searching for me, but I needed to give him time to come up with a rescue plan. Keeping the J-team distracted and their lackeys busy running errands seemed like the best idea. And maybe I’ll stop shaking if I have something to keep me from obsessing over Jay’s new found love of blood and revenge.
“Um, no, but I do need some herbs and stuff,” I said.
I tried to keep my voice from quavering. I’m pretty sure I failed. At least with my hands held behind me, Jay and Jared couldn’t see how badly they were shaking. Could I real y pul this off?
“Herbs?” Jared asked, looking confused.
Jared looked around the room and one guy actual y flashed a questioning look and mimed smoking so
mething that I was pretty sure wasn’t cigarettes. Wow, these guys didn’t even know what herbs were.
“You know, like the herbs and spices used for cooking,” I said. “I’m sure they have a bunch in the home-ec room.”
“Why would you need cooking supplies?” Jared asked. He crossed his arms again and looked down at me suspiciously.
“You’ve heard of eye of newt and al that right?” I asked. “I need to make the spell by brewing it up in a pot, preferably a black cauldron, but I need herbs for the Witches Brew.”
It was al nonsense, but I tried to use bits of phrases I’d heard in scary movies about witches. I emphasized the Hol ywood-style witchy bits and hoped that they believed me.
“Okay, you three,” Jay said, gesturing to three burly guys leaning against the wal , “Go upstairs and grab a big pot and al the herbs you can find. Meet us in the East wing science lab.”
The boys fol owed Jay’s order without question.
“Science lab?” I asked.
“So you can cook your spel ,” Jay said. He looked smug—and sinister.
“Yeah, there’s one thing that this room doesn’t have,” Jared said, nodding his head in agreement. “Flame.” Jared and Jay exchanged smug grins and started dragging me to the science lab. The guy behind me continued to hold onto my wrists and helped Jay and Jared push me toward the door.
“Don’t worry, Witch,” Jay said. “We won’t burn you…
much.”
*****
We were nearly at the door when I heard a loud thud, fol owed by a moan, coming from the hal way. It sounded like the footbal thugs were picking on some poor student.
Whoever it was would likely regret that trip to the bathroom.
They’re probably beating him with his own hall pass. I tried to suppress a shudder, but it didn’t work. Jay let out a weird tittering laugh and Jared snorted, amused at the sign of my fear.
The smel of freshly turned earth and dung fil ed my nostrils and I suddenly felt a comforting presence. It was kind of strange, but the alien aura of my dung beetle spirit guide was much more welcoming than any of the humans in the room.
