by E.J. Stevens
I snatched one of Emma’s rice crackers and grimaced. It tasted fishy. Since Emma didn’t eat fish, I figured the little green bits must be seaweed. Gross.
“Karma baby,” Emma said. “That’s what you get for stealing my lunch.”
With a wink Emma slowly ate another rice cracker. I rolled my eyes and was about to go in search of something vaguely edible, but pushing up from the table I saw Gordy walking our way. He looked…determined. Crap.
“Don’t look now, but here comes Gordy at six o’clock,” I said. “Quick question. The Clash, what’s your answer?” Should I stay or should I go now?
Emma choked on her last cracker. “So not ready for this, but…you go girl,” she said. She was trying to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“I’ll be right over there,” I said, glancing at the nearby trash cans.
I nodded to Gordy as I passed by, but he didn’t even see me. His eyes were locked on Emma and when he came to stand across the table from her I could see the tension in his hunched shoulders. Not good.
I knew Gordy had fallen hard, but when Emma said she was going to break up with him I agreed that it was for the best. They had only been dating for a few weeks and already an ocean of secrets existed between them. Emma was right to break things off before he got hurt, more than he already was, but it was hard to remember all of that seeing the look on Gordy’s face. The pain etched there ran deep and his eyes were full of raw emotion.
“So what’s so wrong with me?” Gordy asked. “Was it something I did? Something I didn’t do? I really like you Emma.”
“You’re great, really great,” Emma said. “It’s not you Gordy, it’s me. I’ve got a lot going on right now.”
“Yeah, I know,” Gordy said. “That’s the problem Emma. You never let me in. You’re always busy. You’re always leaving and…I’m always being left behind.” Gordy turned to leave, but Emma reached out for his sleeve.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “Can we still be friends?”
Gordy hadn’t turned back to face her, so Emma couldn’t see the tears beginning to slide down his cheek, but I could.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Give me some time.”
He pulled away from Emma’s grasp and, for a moment, I was torn between running after him and going back to our table. I felt like both my friends needed me, but decided Gordy would probably want his space. Guys don’t like to cry in front of girls. With one last look at Gordy’s retreating back I walked over and sunk into my chair.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah sure, if by okay you mean feeling like a donkey’s butt,” Emma replied. “Does it always hurt this much to do the right thing?”
Emma looked up from her lap and her eyes looked sad. No frown lines, no tears. If I didn’t know her so well I would have thought she was a total ice queen with no emotions. Emma may be the poster child for calm, cool, and collected, but her eyes gave her away. Plus, while Gordy had been speaking, she crumbled one of her crackers into dust. Emma wasting food? Surely a sign of the apocalypse.
I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” I said, twisting one of the skull buttons on my cardigan. “I’m new to this whole relationship thing, but my experience has been either really amazingly great or absolutely horribly bad. I don’t think there’s much of a gray area when it comes to matters of the heart.”
“That was very poetic,” Emma said, raising one eyebrow.
“You can buy the t-shirt,” I said. I tried to keep a straight face, but a tiny giggle slipped out. “I better grab a bag of chips or something before I faint from hunger.”
“Dude, I’m wallowing in my post-break up sorrow,” Emma said. “Grab me some too.”
“Sure,” I said. Emma eating greasy chips? The world really was coming to an end.
“Hurry back,” Emma said, holding up the House of Horror school flyer. “We have your revenge to plan.”
*****
After school Emma and I met back up in the media lab. I typed up the fake advertisement while Emma made a sheet of sticky labels. Later she would affix them to some small juice bottles, but for now she was making sure they looked authentic. Fortunately the labels only had to pass the scrutiny of Jay Freeman and Jared Zempter, the infamous J-team, which shouldn’t be too difficult since they both shared a brain. A nasty, mean spirited, teensy weensy jock brain.
The final advertising flyer and labels looked amazing.
Dr. Hoppenjumper’s Virility Tonic
Become the envy of your peers. Make girls swoon and cheerleaders cheer.
Contains Dr. Hoppenjumper’s patented popularity serum.
100% money back guarantee.
Directions: Drink one cup of Dr. Hoppenjumper’s Virility Tonic as needed.
“Do you really think this will work?” I asked.
“Are you kidding?” Emma asked. “Of course this will work. There’s no way those two will pass up a chance to both steal something from you and find a way to make themselves attractive to the fairer sex. It’s the perfect trap.”
“So what do we put in the bottles?” I asked. “I don’t want to actually harm them you know.”
“Hey, I’m not totally evil,” she said with a very evil grin. “Don’t worry. No spit, roofies, or laxatives.”
“You realize those two have probably already done all three to students this year,” I said. “Not that I’m condoning it, but they do kind of deserve the same thing.”
“Yeah, well I for one don’t want to get expelled or arrested,” Emma said. “I was thinking something that tastes really, really nasty, but is actually good for them. No real guilt involved. And it’s not like we’re forcing them to drink it. They’re the ones who are going to steal the stuff.”
“Oh, no way,” I said, grinning. There was only one thing I could think of that tasted nasty enough to scar a person for life and yet was totally good for them. In fact, it even cured headaches. “You’re going to fill the bottles with your headache ease tea.”
“You know me too well,” Emma said, eyes gleaming.
“You are a totally diabolical mastermind,” I said.
We high fived and took our flyers and labels from the printer. The J-team had messed with the wrong witch. I almost felt bad for them. Almost.
Chapter 21
After our fun in the media lab, Emma drove us out to Mr. Green Genes for veggie wraps and caffeine. The chips we binged on at lunch had faded and we both ate our wraps in minutes. Neither one of us left a crumb. Even the soggy pickles, the antithesis of crispy goodness, went the way of the dodo. Emma was still sipping her soy latte, but I grabbed another double shot mocha for the road.
I was nearly vibrating in my seat, cherry red fingernails drumming the dash, as we pulled up in front of the cabin. Okay, maybe I had a little too much caffeine.
“Time to dance,” I said.
“More like, time to face the music,” Emma said, sighing. “I am so not in the mood to deal with Simon.”
“When are you ever?” I asked, rolling my eyes.
“Let me think,” Emma said, pretending to be deep in thought. “Oh yeah, like never.”
“You are so mean to that boy,” I said, pushing the car door open.
“Yeah well, he deserves it,” Emma said. “And he’s not exactly a boy…”
“No, I’m not,” Simon said. He appeared out of nowhere. Werewolf stealth could be really annoying. “I’m positively manly, though it has been said I have a boyish charm.”
Simon looked rakish in a dark suit worn over a black t-shirt. Where had he been off to? Wasn’t he supposed to be looking after Cal?
“What’s going on?” I asked, worry creeping into my voice. “Who’s with Cal? You better not have left him alone.”
“Don’t worry, kitten,” Simon said. “He’s in the adept hands of a beautiful woman.”
I felt a flash of searing jealousy, but tamped it down.
“Last chance Simon,” Emma said. “Who is sitting with Cal? You know he nee
ds someone with him at all times.”
“Why should I ruin the surprise?” he said. “Go on in and find out. After you.” Simon waved his arm toward the cabin door and Emma reluctantly stepped forward. He turned to me with a self satisfied grin. “Ladies first,” he said.
“No thanks,” I said, folding my arms. “You are not checking out my butt.”
“Well, you’re no fun today,” Simon said, swaggering forward.
Simon’s teasing caused me to be the last to enter the cabin. I fidgeted with the hem of my dress and nearly twisted one of the skull buttons off my cardigan before finally making it inside to face my potential rival. Who was inside alone with Calvin?
From behind I could see a woman sitting beside Cal, her long shining hair cascading down to rest on the pillow beside his head. Her hand reached out to stroke his face and I felt a muscle jump as I clenched my jaw and fought back angry tears. Who did this woman think she was touching Cal that way?
“Mrs. Miller, so good to see you again,” Emma said, glancing pointedly in my direction. “Has there been any change in Cal’s condition while we were gone?”
Oh, duh, Cal’s mom. I felt like such a fool. Of course she would be taking turns to watch over Cal, at least until the full moon when she and her husband would have to leave town. I glared at Simon who flashed me a satisfied grin.
When Mrs. Miller turned away from Emma, I nearly gasped in surprise. Her face was lined with grief, and the worry over Cal’s condition seemed to have aged her overnight. She looked down at her hands as she addressed Emma’s question.
“Nothing has changed,” she said. “Do you…do you think he’ll wake up?”
“Absolutely,” Emma said.
“Well then, I’ll leave him in your hands,” Mrs. Miller said, standing up. “Thank you all for your help.”
“Would you like me to walk you back to the house?” Simon asked.
Oh, now he gets all gallant?
“No, but thank you Simon,” she said. “I could use a bit of fresh air.”
I mumbled goodbye, but was already moving toward the bed. Emma reached it first, but after checking Cal’s temperature and blood pressure she stepped away to let me sink onto the chair beside him. Emma and Simon moved into the kitchen, giving me a private moment with Cal. Watching the rise and fall of his chest I thought of all the things I wanted to say. Blinking back tears I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I love you Cal and I’m not giving up on you.” Pulling away I thought I saw the twitch of a smile.
Emma and Simon were both waiting at the kitchen counter, mugs of steaming tea in hand. Simon had shed his suit jacket and padded over to the kettle with bare feet. He came back with a mug of tea that he set down in front of me.
“What’s up with the fancy duds?” I asked.
“Pack business,” he said, shrugging.
Okay. “Anything important?” I asked, curious.
“Cal’s dad had the paperwork drawn up regarding Emma’s scholarship, but a certain number of us had to sign off on the final financial agreement,” Simon answered. “Cal had already given his okay, but since the tax involved the entire pack he felt there should be a consensus before it could go into practice.”
“Wait,” Emma said. “Are you saying there’s going to be a werewolf tax…because of me?”
“Yes,” Simon said. He looked pained to admit Emma’s importance to the pack and I was reminded of the dominance struggle between them.
“Wow,” I said. “I knew about their promise, but I had no idea how the pack planned on raising the money. I guess I just assumed there was some wealthy werewolf benefactor.”
“You read way too many comics,” Emma said. She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
So Emma’s wigged out too. At least I’m not the only one.
“This is just how the pack conducts business,” Simon said. “It’s nothing to worry about.”
But I was worried and I could see that Emma had concerns of her own.
“Simon, I just have one question, and you better answer me honestly,” Emma said.
“No reason to lie,” he said, spreading his hands palm out in mock surrender.
“What happens to pack members who can’t afford to pay?” Emma asked, brow wrinkling. “I don’t want people to suffer to pay my tuition.”
Simon barked out a laugh, but I couldn’t see what was so funny. His answer could have a major impact on Emma’s future. It wasn’t something to laugh about.
“What’s so funny?” I asked. Son of a dung beetle. Simon was really starting to get on my nerves.
“Oh you two,” Simon said, wiping tears of laughter from his eyes. “You really thought I’d be out busting kneecaps to get the money.”
I looked guiltily at the floor. It was exactly what I had been thinking. Shooting a quick glance at Emma I could tell it was what she had been worried about as well.
“Did you really think Cal would go along with that?” Simon asked. “Come on, you both know him better than that. We’ll tax those who can afford to contribute and the entire pack will benefit by receiving Emma’s medical and veterinary services. Cal is all about protecting the rights of his pack members. I’ve never known an alpha so determined to have a pack democracy.”
Emma looked relieved and I sighed and blew steam from my mug. “I wasn’t worried about Cal’s leadership,” I said. “I was concerned about your interpretation of pack law while he’s unconscious.”
“Not to worry, love,” Simon said. “He’ll be awake soon enough.”
“Speaking of which, you guys ready for some drumming?” I asked. I pulled off my cardigan and tossed it over one of the kitchen chairs.
“Time to wake sleeping beauty,” Simon said.
I nodded and strode to the center of the room. “Time to dance,” I said.
*****
The room was awash in the smell of lavender and honey. The heady scent filled me with hope as I stomped my booted feet against the cabin floor. My feet matched the pounding rhythm of Emma and Simon’s steady drumming and my arms rose up as I soared around the room. The air felt charged with spirit energy, my skin tingling, and the hair on my arms stood at attention.
Sweat soaked my face as I breathed heavily beneath the porcelain mask and I wished again that I owned something less stifling to wear. Today I had come prepared with a few tricks up my sleeve, or rather tucked away in my backpack. With only four days left before Samhain I was worried that the veil may already be thinning and that evil, malevolent spirits may try to interfere with our dance. What could be more fun for a trickster spirit than to prevent the return of a pure spirit to his body?
Oh yeah, I was taking every possible precaution. Simon had raised an eyebrow when I pulled out the geisha mask and tied it on with the affixed black ribbons, but apparently he was saving his comments for later. I added my evil eye pendant and a wristlet of Tibetan bells. Next I grabbed my carved gourds, Legs and Boo, who I held in my hands as I danced. Spider legs flashing out, bells jingling, and ghost gourd swinging as I twirled and spun.
I called Cal’s spirit wolf to me and this time was rewarded by the faint smell of wet dog. I continued to dance and reach out to the in-between realm where Cal and his wolf spirit remained trapped. Drawing on the strength of the pack ancestors, their benevolent spirits channeled through my new spirit-ink tattoo, I called again to Cal’s wolf spirit. Come to me. We need you.
I swayed, shimmied, and leapt into the air. The geisha mask now felt glued to my face with sweat, but I increased my pace with Emma and Simon’s frenzied drumming. I focused on the image of Cal’s wolf spirit as the room spun around me like a drunken amusement park tilt-a-whirl. Cool air brushed icy tendrils across my fevered skin as the room was filled with spirits of the dead. Lavender and honey spiced air was rapidly mixing with the scented effluvium of our unwanted guests. Please Cal, I can’t hold on much longer.
As the gorge rose in my throat, I danced with even greater ferocity. I wasn’t going t
o let Cal go without a fight. I was going to get him back even if it meant losing a part of myself. Good thing they’re not at full strength. Yet.
Fighting against mischievous spirits, I struggled to focus on Cal and his wolf spirit. I sensed that his wolf spirit was close, but I didn’t see him and couldn’t catch his scent over the plethora of spirit smells that inundated the room. I felt the room slipping away and struggled to stay conscious, to drag oxygen into my lungs and continue to dance.
Over the sound of drumming, bells jingling, feet stomping, and my ragged breathing I heard a moan that sent chills up my spine. What the heck was that? What had we called to our cabin? Eyes wide I spun around looking for the source of the frightful moaning and froze, feet rooted to the dusty floor boards, as movement caught my eye. Oh my God.
Emma and Simon stopped drumming and the room fell into stunned silence as we all turned to look into the darkened corner. Cal! Cal was moaning, moving fitfully on the bed, and flung his arm over his face as though having a bad dream. Trembling with adrenaline and exhaustion I ran to his bedside.
“Cal!” I exclaimed. “Cal, wake up.”
As I reached for Cal’s hand his eyes fluttered open to reveal the vibrant blue pools I longed to sink into. He looked confused, but the dazed look was quickly replaced by fear. Cal’s eyes widened as he gasped, pushing himself against the bed as though trying to distance himself from us. From me.
“Who are you?” Cal asked, voice rasping. “What…what do you want?”
Cold tentacles of fear slithered in to wrap themselves around my heart. How could he not know me? Had he returned to us…damaged? I felt a tear slide down my sweat soaked face.
“Yuki,” Emma said. Her voice sounded far away. “Yuki, it’s not what you think.”
“Relax kitten,” Simon said softly. “Take off the mask. You’re confusing the poor boy and scaring yourself.”
“Yuki?” Cal asked, sounding confused.
Oh. Right. In my excitement I had forgotten about the geisha mask I was wearing. I pulled off the mask and set it on the bed. Cal’s eyes lit up in wonder as he reached up to cup my face in his hand.
