THE SECRET CIRCLE 1 - The Initiation
Page 18
The abruptness of his question took her breath away. But she was eternally proud of herself that with scarcely any hesitation she spoke clearly. "Yes."
"We need blood." He stood and took a knife out of his back pocket. Cassie thought she was surprised, then decided she wasn't. However nice a guy Adam might be, he was used to taking care of himself.
Without any particular flourish, he cut his palm. The blood showed black in the dim silvery light. Then he handed the knife to her.
Cassie sucked in her breath. She wasn't brave, she hated pain… But she gritted her teeth and put the knife against her palm. Just think of the pain you could have caused Diana, she thought, and with a quick motion she brought the knife downward. It hurt, but she didn't make any noise.
She looked up at Adam.
"Now, say after me," he said. He held his palm up to the star-filled sky. "Fire, Air, Earth, Water."
"Fire, Air, Earth, Water…"
"Listen and witness."
"Listen and witness." Despite the simple words, Cassie felt that the elements had indeed been evoked and were listening. The night had a sudden feeling of electricity, and the stars overhead seemed to burn colder and brighter. Goose-flesh broke out on her skin.
Adam turned his hand sideways so that the black drops fell onto the scraggly beach grass and the sandy earth. Cassie watched, mesmerized. "I, Adam, swear not to betray my trust—not to betray Diana," he said.
"I, Cassie, swear not to betray my trust…" she whispered, and watched her own blood trickle off the side of her hand.
"Not by word, or look, or deed, waking or sleeping, by speech or by silence…"
She repeated it in a whisper.
"… in this land or any other. If I do, may fire burn me, air smother me, earth swallow me, and water cover my grave."
She repeated it. As she spoke the last words, "and water cover my grave," she felt a snapping, as if something had been set in motion. As if the fabric of space and time right here had been plucked,. once, and was resonating back into place. Breath held, she listened to it a moment.
Then she looked at Adam. "It's over," she whispered, and she didn't just mean the oath.
His eyes were like silver-edged darkness. "It's over," he said, and reached his bloodstained palm out to her. She hesitated, then took his hand with her own. She felt, or imagined she felt, their blood mingling, falling to the ground together. A symbol of what could never be.
Then, slowly, he released her.
"You'll give the rose back to Diana?" she asked steadily.
He took the chalcedony piece out of his pocket, held it in the palm that was still wet. "I'll give it to her."
Cassie nodded. She couldn't say what she meant, which was that where the stone belonged, Adam belonged.
"Good night, Adam," she said softly instead, looking at him standing there on the bluff with the night sky behind him. Then she turned and walked toward the lighted windows of her grandmother's house. And this time he didn't call her back.
"Oh, yes," Cassie's grandmother said. "This was in the front hall this morning. Someone must have put it through the letter slot." She handed Cassie an envelope.
They were sitting at the breakfast table, the Sunday morning sun shining through the windows. Cassie was astonished at how normal everything was.
But one look at the envelope and her heart plummeted. Her name was written on the front in a large, careless hand. The ink was red.
She tore it open and stared at the note inside while her Raisin Bran got soggy. It read:
Cassie—
You see I'm using my own name this time. Come over to my house (Number Six) sometime today. I have something special I want to talk to you about. Believe me, you don't want to miss this.
Love and kisses, Faye
P.S. Don't tell anyone in the Club you're coming to see me. You'll understand when you get here.
Cassie was tingling with alarm. Her first impulse was to call Diana, but if Diana had been up all night purifying the skull, she was probably exhausted. Faye was the last thing she needed to deal with.
All right, I won't disturb her, Cassie thought grimly. I'll go and see what Faye's up to first. Something about the ceremony, I'll bet. Or maybe she's going to call for a leadership vote.
Faye's house was one of the nicest on the street. A housekeeper let Cassie in, and she remembered Diana saying that Faye's mother was dead. There were a lot of single-parent families on Crowhaven Road.
Faye's room was a rich girl's room. Cordless phone, PC, TV and VCR, tons of CDs. Huge, lush sprawling flowers patterned everything, including a bed heaped with soft cushions and embroidered pillows. Cassie sat down on the window seat, waiting for Faye to appear. There were red candles, not lit, on the nightstand.
Suddenly the dust ruffle on the bed stirred, and out poked the face of a little orange kitten. It was followed almost immediately by a little gray one.
"Oh, you darling," Cassie said, enchanted in spite of herself. She would never have guessed Faye was the type to keep kittens. She sat very still, and to her delight the two little creatures came all the way out. They jumped up on the window seat and ranged over her, purring like motorboats.
Cassie giggled and squirmed as one climbed her sweater and perched, precariously, on her shoulder. They were adorable kittens, the orange fluffy and spiky with baby fur, the gray sleek and tidy. Their tiny needle claws pricked her as they climbed all over her. The orange one got in her hair and poked bluntly behind her ear, and she laughed again.
He was trying to nurse, kneading his little paws against her neck. She could feel his cold little nose. The gray one was doing the same thing from the other side. Oh, what darling, darling little…
"Ouch!" she cried. "Ow—oh, don't! Get off, you! Get off!"
She pulled at the tiny bodies, trying to detach them. They were tangled in her hair and they hung on with claws—and teeth. When Cassie finally managed to pry them away, she almost threw them to the ground. Then her hands flew to her neck.
Her fingers came away wet. She stared in shock at the redness.
They'd bitten her, the little monsters. And now they were sitting on the floor and composedly licking the blood off their chops. A surge of violent revulsion passed through Cassie.
From the doorway, Faye chuckled.
"Maybe they're not getting all their vitamins and minerals from the kitten chow," she said.
She was looking stunning this morning. Her tangled pitch-black hair was still wet and cascaded down in yards of natural curls. Her skin was damp and glowing against her burgundy robe.
I shouldn't have come, Cassie thought, feeling a wave of irrational fear. But Faye wouldn't dare to hurt her now. Diana would find out, the Circle would find out. Faye must know she couldn't get away with it.
Faye seated herself on the bed. "So how did you like the ceremony last night?" she asked casually.
I knew it. "It was fine until something went wrong," said Cassie. Then she just looked at Faye again.
Faye laughed her rich, slow laugh. "Oh, Cassie. I like you. I really do. I saw that there was something special about you from the beginning. I know we didn't exactly get the best start, but I think that's going to change now. I think we're going to be good friends."
Cassie was speechless a moment. Then she managed to say, "I don't think so, Faye."
"But I think so, Cassie. And that's what counts."
"Faye…" Somehow, after last night Cassie found she had the courage to say things she wouldn't even have dreamed of saying before. "Faye, I don't think you and I have much in common. And I don't think I even want to be good friends with you."
Faye only smiled.
"That's too bad," she said. "Because, you see, I know something, Cassie. And I think it's the sort of thing you'd want only a very good friend to know."
The world rocked under Cassie's feet.
Faye couldn't be saying—oh, she couldn't be saying what Cassie thought she was. Cassie stared at the older gi
rl, feeling something like ice congeal in her stomach.
"You see," Faye went on, "I happen to have a lot of other friends. And they tell me things, interesting things they see and hear around the neighborhood. And you know what? Last night one of those friends saw something very, very interesting on the bluff."
Cassie sat, her vision blurring.
"They saw two people on the bluff out near Number Twelve. And those two people were… well, shall we say they were getting very friendly themselves? Very friendly. It was pretty hot, the way I heard it."
Cassie tried to speak, but nothing came out.
"And you'll never believe who those two people were! I wouldn't have believed it myself, except that it reminded me of a poem I'd read somewhere. Now, how did it go? Each night I lie and dream about the one—"
"Faye!" Cassie was on her feet.
Faye smiled. "I think you get the point. Diana hasn't read that particular little poem, has she? I didn't think so. Well, Cassie, if you don't want her to hear it, or to know about what happened on the bluff last night, I'd say you'd better start being my friend and fast, don't you think?"
"It wasn't like that," Cassie said. She was hot and shaking with fury, with fear. "You don't understand at all—"
"Of course I understand. Adam is very attractive. And I always suspected that 'eternal fidelity' routine of theirs was just an act. I don't blame you, Cassie. It's very natural…"
"That isn't what happened. There's nothing between us—"
Faye smirked. "From what I hear, there was very little between you last night—sorry. No, really, I'd like to believe you, Cassie, but I wonder if Diana will see it the same way. Especially after she learns how you conveniently forgot to mention that you'd met her boyfriend over the summer—when he awakened you, I believe. How did that poem go again?"
"No…" Cassie whispered.
"And then the way you looked at him when he appeared after the initiation ceremony—well, Diana didn't see that, but I must admit that my suspicions were aroused. The little scene on the bluff only clinched it. When I tell Diana—"
"You can't," Cassie said desperately. "You can't tell her. Please, Faye. She won't understand. It's not that way at all, but she won't understand."
Faye clucked her tongue. "But Cassie, Diana is my cousin. My blood relation. I have to tell her."
Cassie felt like a rat running frantically in a maze, searching for a way out that didn't exist. Panic was pounding in her ears. Faye couldn't tell Diana. It couldn't happen. The thought of how Diana would look—of how she would look at Cassie…
And at Adam. That was almost worse. She would think they had betrayed her, that Cassie and Adam had truly betrayed her. And how she would look then… how Adam would look…
Cassie could stand anything but that.
"You can't," she whispered. "You can't."
"Well, Cassie, I told you before. If we were friends, really good friends, I might be able to keep your secret. Diana and I may be cousins, but I'd do anything for my friends. And," Faye said deliberately, her honey-colored eyes never leaving Cassie's face, "I expect them to do anything for me."
It was then, at last, that Cassie realized what this was all about. Everything went still around her, too still. Her heart gave one great thump and seemed to sink like lead. Down and down and down.
From the bottom of a pit, she asked Faye emptily, "What kind of thing?"
Faye smiled. She leaned back against the bed, relaxed, the robe parting to reveal one bare shapely leg.
"Well, let me see," she said slowly, drawing the moment out, relishing it. "I know there was something… oh, yes. I'd really like to have that crystal skull Adam found. I'm sure you know where Diana's keeping it. And if not, I'm sure you could find out."
"No," Cassie said, horrified.
"Yes," Faye said, and smiled again. "That's what I want, Cassie. To show what a good friend you are. Nothing else will do."
"Faye, you saw what happened last night. That skull is evil. There's already something aw-ful on the loose because of it—if you use it again, who knows what might happen?" And, Cassie's numbed mind suddenly suggested, who knew what Faye might be planning to use it for? "Why do you want it?" she blurted out.
Faye shook her head tolerantly. "That's my little secret. Maybe, if we become good enough friends, I'll show you later."
"I won't do it. I can't. I can't, Faye."
"Well, that's too bad." Faye's eyebrows lifted, and she pursed her full lips. "Because that means I'm going to have to call Diana. I think my cousin has a right to know what her boyfriend is doing."
She reached for the phone and pushed buttons with an elegant, scarlet-tipped finger.
"Hello, Diana? Is that you?"
"No!" Cassie cried, and grabbed Faye's arm. Faye pushed the mute button.
"Does this mean," she said to Cassie, "that we have a deal?"
Cassie couldn't form a yes or no.
Faye reached out and caught Cassie's chin in her hand, as she had that first day on the school steps. Cassie could feel the hardness of long nails, the coolness and strength of Faye's fingers. Faye was staring at her with those eyes, those strange honey-colored eyes. Falcons have yellow eyes, Cassie thought suddenly, wildly. And Faye's fingers gripped her like talons. There was no escape. She was trapped… caught… like a white mouse caught by a bird of prey.
The golden eyes were still staring at her… into her. She was so lightheaded, so afraid. And this time there was no rock beneath her feet to steady her. She was in Faye's second-floor bedroom, trapped away from any help.
"Do we have a deal?" Faye said again.
No escape. No hope. Cassie's vision was blurring, going dim; she could barely hear Faye over the rushing in her ears.
She felt the last drops of resistance, of will, drain out of her.
"Well?" said Faye in her throaty, mocking voice.
Blindly, scarcely knowing what she was doing, Cassie nodded.
Faye released her.
Then she pushed the mute button again. "Sorry, Diana, I got the wrong number. I meant to call the Maytag repairman. 'Bye now!" And with that she hung up.
She stretched like a giant cat, replacing the phone on the nightstand as she lay back. Then she put her arms behind her head and looked at Cassie, smiling.
"All right," she said. "The first thing is, you get me that skull. And after that… well, after that I'll think of what else I want. You realize that from now on I own you, Cassie."
"I thought," Cassie whispered, still unable to see for the gray mist, "that we were friends."
"That was just a euphemism. The truth is that you're my captive from now on. I own you now, Cassie Blake. I own you body and soul."
Don't miss the exciting continuation of
The Secret Circle
Volume II: THE CAPTIVE
One
Fire, Cassie thought. All around her she saw blazing autumn colors. The yellow-orange of sugar maples, the brilliant red of sassafras, the crimson of sumac bushes. It was as if the entire world were flaming with Faye's element.
And I'm trapped in the middle of it.
The sick feeling in the pit of Cassie's stomach got worse with every step she took down Crowhaven Road.
The yellow Victorian house at the bottom of the road looked as pretty as ever. Sunlight was striking rainbow sparks off a prism which hung in the highest tower window. A girl with long light-brown hair called out from the porch.
"Hurry up, Cassie! You're late!"
"Sorry," Cassie called back, trying to hurry when what she really wanted to do was turn around and run the other way. She had the sudden, inexplicable conviction that her private thoughts must show in her face. Laurel would take one look at her and know all about what had happened with Adam last night, and all about the bargain with Faye.
But Laurel just grabbed her by the waist and hustled her inside and upstairs to Diana's bedroom. Diana was standing in front of the large walnut cabinet; Melanie was sitting on the be
d. Sean was perched uneasily in the window seat, rubbing his knees with his palms.
Adam was standing beside him.
He looked up as Cassie came in.
Cassie met those blue-gray eyes for only an instant, but it was long enough. They were the color of the ocean at its most mysterious, sunlit on the surface but with incomprehensible depths underneath. The rest of his face was the same as ever: arresting and intriguing, pride showing in the high cheekbones and determined mouth, but sensitivity and humor showing there too. His face looked different only because last night Cassie had seen those eyes midnight-blue with passion, had felt that mouth…
Not by word or look or deed, she told herself fiercely, staring down at the ground because she didn't dare look up again. But her heart was pounding so hard she expected to see the front of her sweater fluttering. Oh, God, how was she ever going to be able to carry this off and keep her vow? It took an incredible amount of energy to sit down by Melanie and not look at him, to block the charismatic heat of his presence out of her mind.
You'd better get used to it, she told herself. Because you're going to be doing a lot of it from now on.
"Good; we're all here," Diana said. She went over and shut the door. "This is a closed meeting," she went on, turning back to the group. "The others weren't invited because I'm not sure they have the same interests at heart as we do."
"That's putting it mildly," Laurel said under her breath.
"They're going to be upset if they find out," Sean said, his black eyes darting between Adam and Diana.
"Then let them be," Melanie said unemotionally. Her own cool gray eyes fixed on Sean, and he flushed. "This is much more important than any fit Faye can throw. We have to find out what happened to that dark energy… and now."
"I think I know a way," said Diana. Out of a white velvet pouch she took a delicate green stone on a silver chain.
"A pendulum," Melanie said at once.
"Yes. This is peridot," Diana said to Cassie. "It's a visionary stone—right, Melanie? Usually we use clear quartz as a pendulum, but this time I think the peridot is better—more likely to pick up traces of the dark energy. We'll take it down to the place where the dark energy escaped, and it'll align itself in the direction the energy went and start swinging."