The Lost Girl

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The Lost Girl Page 17

by Lilian Carmine


  I flicked the headlights on, and at the sudden movement Mr. Skittles, sitting next to me on the passenger seat, tensed up on full alert. The hair on his back stood on end and he hissed at some spot behind us.

  “Hum. Mr. Skittles? What’s wrong?” I asked, glancing in the rearview mirror. There was nothing there. Mr. Skittles continued hissing and attempting to claw the air. “Okay, calm down, kitty, we’re almost there.” But then I quickly glanced back again and caught a suspicious shadow heading for the hood of the car, a tiny glint of yellow eyes blinking for a split second before fading out of sight.

  Crap. It was Nick. He was here!

  I didn’t pause to think; I just reacted and stepped on the brakes, hard, making the car skid to a halt with a loud screeching of burning tires. I was lucky this was a deserted street or I would have caused a major accident. I busted open the door and scrambled outside, Mr. Skittles following at my heels like a shadow.

  There was a ripping sound and a sharp tug on my shoulder, but I didn’t stop to look at it. I saw the two strong beams of the car’s headlights and ran into them. Sneaky Nick hated light. I stopped in front of the lights, my heart thumping loudly in my chest. Mr. Skittles was right next to me. That cat had a good survival instinct, I gave him that.

  I glanced quickly at my shoulder and saw that my shirt was ripped in the shape of claw marks and there were a few drops of blood, but when I peeked underneath, there was no wound. The skin was smooth and unscathed, healed by Vigil’s powers.

  A hiss from Mr. Skittles jolted me back to attention. Nick was still around. I turned in a full circle, searching for him. Nick could be anywhere, at my back, at my sides, even right in front of me.

  I glanced down and saw Mr. Skittles staring directly at something; then he turned his head slowly, as if following something through the darkness. Best to follow the cat’s lead. He really was the best Nick-detector.

  After some time manoeuvering myself in pursuit of Mr. Skittles’ concentrated glare, I started to grow impatient with this game of tagging shadows in the dark. My heart still pounded loudly in my chest, but I tried to keep my cool as best I could.

  “Okay, Nick,” I said to the dark street. “Let’s stop this silly game. What do you want?”

  Something stomped on the hood of the car. “What do I wantss?” Nick hissed, clawing at the car, making me flinch at the sound of scratching metal. “What do I wantsss, hag? You know what! I wantss my things. Give me back my thingss, witch.”

  “Okay. I don’t have your things with me. I wouldn’t be that stupid, walking around with them in my pocket, would I?” I scoffed. “They are safe – and protected with many spells and wards – in a very secret hidden place.”

  He screeched like a banshee and continued clawing viciously at the hood. It was clear he wasn’t one bit happy, and the car was ruined.

  “Give it back, hag! Give it back,” Nick cried out. Major hissy fit.

  “I can make you a deal,” I proposed, stalling for time. I didn’t know a light spell to cast at him – that was Celeste’s area of expertise. But I needed to try something to make him tell me how that damned glass ball worked. It was now or never.

  “Listen, how about … how about I give you all your stuff back, but I get to keep one item? That seems fair, dontcha think?” I said, gambling my way out of this one.

  “I just want one thing. You can keep the rest.”

  He seemed to be pondering this. “Which thing?” he asked, suspiciously.

  That was the tricky part. I couldn’t tell him I wanted the glass ball and then ask him how it worked. He would instantly work everything out and go straight for Vigil’s neck. Then he would be free from his hunter.

  “Hmm. How about you tell me how they all work, and I decide which one I want?”

  “NO!” he hissed defiantly. “No! You just wantss to know how they workss sso you can keep them all for yoursself! You lying, cheating thief!”

  “No, I won’t! I give you my word I will only keep one thing!”

  “Your word? Your word? Your word meanss nothing, hag,” he spat out.

  “Listen, Nick, I’m trying to be reasonable here. I promise you can trust me. I mean, what else can you do?

  “And, by the way, the only reason Vigil is not coming after you right now is because I asked him not to,” I continued, my brain still working at super-speed to come up with something that would convince Nick to hand over the secrets of the glass ball. “I wanted to make this trade with you, you know? This way I will get a powerful magical artifact and learn how to use it properly, and you get to leave with the rest of your things. Everybody wins!” I said, trying to give him a reassuring smile.

  “But if we can’t make a deal, then I suppose I can ask him to get back to his mission … of hunting you down.” I was bluffing, squinting my eyes in the dark.

  Nick jumped off the hood and landed on a dark patch of road, making sure to stay clear of the headlights’ beams. His deadly yellow gaze locked on me.

  “You liesss,” he hissed again. “A Gray Hooded One would never stop hiss duty for ssuch a thing.” I could see him narrowing his eyes.

  “He likes me very much,” I pointed out. “He always does everything I ask. You saw how he chose to protect me in my garden. He could have gone for your neck back there, but he chose me. He would do anything I say.” I suppose there was some truth in that.

  “No, there iss sssomething elsse holding him back,” Nick said, suddenly making himself visible to me. I could see his whole body: his flashing white teeth in that wicked, evil smile of his, the tainted yellow eyes searching mine with intensity. “And I can alwayss try sssomething new …” he said, grinning menacingly. “I can alwayss take ssomething of yourss, like you took miness. And THEN we can make a trade.”

  I uncrossed my arms. I had a bad feeling about this. “I have nothing valuable,” I said, shrugging. Whatever he took, it would be only an unimportant material thing which could be replaced.

  “Ah …” he said tsking me, teasing me with that wicked scary grin. “But you do.” His eyes glinted with malice. “You sseem very … ‘attached’ to those young males in your housse. I thinkss perhapss I could ssnatch one or two … slice them up, huh? Trade their pieces for my things? I could do thiss, yess, yess … What do you think, hag?” He let himself blend into the dark street again, only his yellow, glinting eyes visible.

  At this, it felt as if my heart had stopped beating. A fierce coldness ran down my spine, freezing my every move. Inside my head, chains started rattling and that alien voice boomed through all my thoughts.

  He threatened your boys, the voice snarled; and I snarled too. You must kill him. Tear him into pieces. All I could hear was rattling and snarling. Your boys. Your boys are in danger. You need to strike him. Destroy him. Destroy everything!

  “You stay away from them, you filthy thing,” I growled, and my voice sounded alien, not my own. “You touch them, and I will destroy you.” The air around us stirred and a fierce wind picked up speed, brushing leaves off the ground in a swirling hurricane. Thunder rolled in the night sky. I could feel energy building inside me. I was already losing control.

  “But first … you have to catch me, hag,” he whispered with malice, then disappeared swiftly, completely out of sight.

  “No! No!” I shouted, overwhelmed by a fury so strong it rattled my core and made my soul reverberate with violence.

  He threatened your boys! Are you going to do nothing? Are you going to just stand there and let him take them?

  Rattling and chains was all I could hear.

  “NO!” I stomped my foot in rage. The impact was so strong that it boomed for many feet around me, shaking trees and houses and making the asphalt crack as if it had been hit by a bomb. A small crater formed where I had stomped.

  My hair whipped around my face, overpowered by the fierce wind, and I tried hard to control my temper. I felt like a lightning bolt had just run through me. I was breathing heavily, but I couldn’t stop to
rest. I had to get back home. I had to get there before Nick. I had to get to my boys before he did …

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Rattling Chains

  “Come on, come on, come ON,” I urged myself, speeding as fast as the car would take me.

  Mr. Skittles tried to gain purchase on the passenger seat, looking slightly terrified as he bounced back and forth. My mind was completely focused on getting back home as fast as possible, but every now and then, for a fleeting heartbeat, my mind flashed with terrifying thoughts of Nick’s furious jaws biting one of the boys. I tried to push the images to the back of my head.

  Why couldn’t I get a grip on these powers, already? Why were they so hard to tame? Every time something triggered them, they flooded out of me uncontrollably. It was like trying to stop water spilling from a broken dam, or fire from burning dry straw. When unleashed, the powers were too potent to be contained. How on earth did Vigil do it? I had almost blown up the entire block back there. If only I could have focused some of my angry energy on Nick instead of everything else surrounding me.

  And what about now? If only I knew how to use Vigil’s teletransportation powers to beam myself instantly into the house. Bam, problem solved! No need to worry about getting back in time, about being too late to save anyone, about being this useless, pathetic waste of space …

  But I didn’t know how to make light spells or protection wards. I didn’t know how that glass ball worked. I didn’t know a goddamned thing. If I hadn’t been so conceited as to think I could handle everything on my own, I wouldn’t have gotten myself into this mess in the first place. I screamed aloud in frustration, the thought of getting there too late tormenting me more and more every passing second.

  As soon as I reached the house, I bolted to the door, jamming the key into the lock and then running inside. I looked around frantically, but there was no one there. Please don’t let it be too late.

  Then I heard chatter drifting from the backyard; I ran to the back door and my body sagged in relief when I saw the boys, Celeste and Vigil, all standing in the middle of the garden, safe and sound, talking like they were at a freaking party.

  “What the hell, people?” I shouted, making everybody jump, startling them with my sudden arrival. “Everybody get inside, right now! What do you thinking you’re doing? It’s night-time, dark, and you’re all hanging around, waiting to be eaten alive.”

  Everybody stared at me, alarmed, suddenly realizing what a big mistake it was to be out in the open like that, and they all mumbled their apologies before shuffling inside the house. Celeste ventured to my side, giving me an apologetic smile, just as Mr. Skittles appeared by my foot, meowing happily.

  “Mr. Skittles! You got him!” Celeste exclaimed, picking him up in her arms and patting his head lovingly. Then she glanced at my shoulder and noticed my ripped shirt. “Oh God, did he do this to you? He can be … temperamental sometimes.”

  “Huh? Ah, no. That wasn’t Mr. Skittles. That was Nick. He paid me a quick visit on the way here. Almost made me crash the car. Tried to rip my head off and then threatened to kidnap and slice the boys up piece by piece until I give him his things back. Charming, right?” I walked into the living room and stood facing the boys all gathered there. “Is everyone all right?”

  They all looked at me sheepishly and nodded in unison. I let out a heavy sigh of relief and slumped down on the couch. I was so tired.

  “Okay, now, listen up. Nobody leaves the house during night hours. That thing is serious about hurting you,” I said, indicating my ripped shirt, which made them all flinch. “If you leave during the day and can’t get back before dusk, it’s best to stay away from here. Celeste, Vigil and I are trying to fix this as quickly as we can, but until then, leave all lights on in the house.” I looked around and realized that the house was already all lit up.

  “Where’s Tristan?” I asked, suddenly feeling my heart pounding in my chest. The boys all went very quiet at the mention of Tristan’s name. Seth came to sit beside me, placing a hand on my leg.

  “I talked to Tristan this morning and he told me about you and him … breaking up. He didn’t want to say what happened. I tried to talk to him, but he wasn’t listening. He looked like hell. As soon as he got up he told me about you guys, then packed up a few things and left.” Seth looked lost, like a little kid who’d just found out his parents were splitting up.

  “He … left?” I asked in a small voice. Of course he had. What did I expect? I was the one forcing him to do this in the first place. But hearing Seth saying those words … it made my stomach drop. He was leaving me. No. He had already left. I felt like someone had just punched me flat in the chest.

  “Yeah, I mean … he said he needed to think things over, I don’t know. I’m sure if you guys just talk …” There was a hint of hope in his voice.

  “Does this mean we’re breaking up the band?” Harry asked.

  “No, of course not! This has nothing to do with you guys or the band. The band is fine. This is between me and Tristan, all right? It’s something Tristan and I need to work out,” I said, raking my hand through my hair. It was hard to think as I was so exhausted. “Guys, I understand you are all upset. Tristan is your best friend; I know you care about him a lot.”

  “You are our best friend too,” Seth said, putting his hand over mine and squeezing it reassuringly. “If you need us, we’re here, okay? We want you to know that.”

  “Thanks, guys. I know,” I said.

  They all nodded and Josh and Sammy even came to give me a tight hug before they each drifted away to do something in the house, leaving me alone with Vigil on the couch. Celeste excused herself and went to the kitchen to make us a cup of tea.

  “How are you, Joe?” Vigil asked with an intent stare.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Are you really? You don’t sound fine,” he said, still looking deeply into my eyes. He also looked very tired, I noticed.

  I sighed. “I-I don’t know how I am, Vigil. Honestly. I haven’t got time to stop and think about anything,” I confessed, rubbing my face. “Everything is such a mess …”

  “Yes, I know what you mean,” he said softly. “We will fix this soon, Joey. Keep holding on and stay calm and you’ll be fine,” he instructed, but his voice wavered with uncertainty, despite his attempt to show confidence.

  Once Celeste returned, I left them drinking tea in the living room, and went to look for Harry. When I found him in his room he looked so crestfallen about my fight with Tristan that I wanted to reassure him everything was going to be fine and that he shouldn’t worry.

  He beckoned me inside and I sat down on his bed, watching him pick through the mess of scattered clothes around the room, a can of beer in his hand.

  “Harry … you shouldn’t be drinking now,” I said, perhaps a bit too harshly.

  He frowned, glancing at the can. “It’s just one can of beer, Joey,” he mumbled uncomfortably.

  “I know, Harry. But it’s dangerous to let your guard down, with that thing out there waiting to get us.” I thought about evil Nick and his sharp yellow teeth. An intoxicated boy wouldn’t stand a chance against that creature.

  “I know you’re drinking because you’re upset over my fight with Tristan.” I looked closely at him and only then saw how much sadness his eyes held. I didn’t even need my empathy-sight. Harry was suffering, and I had been so worried about my own problems that I hadn’t stopped to see what was going on with my best friend. He was in pain and I was causing it with my careless actions. I was hurting Tristan; I was hurting everybody.

  I was so ridden with guilt I could barely look him in the eye. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I promise I’ll sort through all this mess and make things right again … for everybody,” I said quietly, trying to steady my heart. Seeing Harry suffering was one of the worst things in the world.

  “Are you guys really breaking up?” he whispered, sitting down next to me, his eyes brimming a little. He must have noticed the pained
look on my face.

  “We just need to figure some things out, Harry,” I said, leaning in and wrapping my arms tightly around him, hoping that I could pass him some comfort, some relief from his worries. “But everything will be all right. You don’t need to worry; we’ll work things out.”

  He rested his head on my shoulder and let out a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. I was supposed to be the one comforting you here. But your fight with Tristan made me think of my own messed-up life and my head just got all tangled up …”

  “What messed-up life, Harry?”

  He smiled sadly. “It’s been a little hard … after my break-up with Jackie. I’m still bummed about it, I guess,” he murmured.

  “It’s okay to be upset, Harry. But you will find someone good for you, you’ll see. Jackie doesn’t deserve you if she gave up on you that easily. You deserve someone better.”

  He made a face, like he didn’t quite believe me.

  I knelt in front of him and cupped his pale face, making him look at me. “Harry, you are an extraordinary guy. I’m telling you, you deserve someone truly amazing at your side, an extraordinary girl to measure up to you. And believe me when I say you will find this girl. I have the most absolute certainty in that. Anyone that spends five minutes with you can see how incredible you are,” I said with total conviction.

  “Not anyone,” he mumbled, and I knew he was referring to Jackie.

  “Jackie wouldn’t know extraordinary if it slapped her in the face,” I retorted, annoyed. “If Jackie can’t see it, that’s her narrow-minded, stupid fault. It’s her problem, not yours. Don’t ever let this be your issue. It’s hers and hers alone,” I said firmly.

  “I know, I know,” Harry said, looking at me.

  I put my hand over his heart. “But you have to realize, Harry, that there are people in your life that will never leave you. Seth will never leave you. Josh, Sammy and Tristan. Your sister, your mom. Me. And you will find a girl who will love you more than anything in the world. You have to trust me on this. I’m a witch. I know these things,” I said in an eerie voice.

 

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