by Cady Vance
She paused at the Chilean beads, closed her eyes and listened to the foreign wind. These days, they were the only way she could get a taste of the world outside this house.
After breakfast, I wiped down the kitchen counters and got the dishwasher humming, occasionally glancing at my schoolbooks tossed on the kitchen table. Mom sat in the living room staring out the window while she clicked her knitting needles together. Astral weaved through her legs, tail up, body humming. I slid my folder for mom’s attack out from under my history book.
After tearing a paper out of my notebook, I scribbled down the new information Mom had accidentally spilled.
Note on September 22 (NEW info!)
- Political struggle
- Mom was in the middle
- What kind of politics exist in the shaman world?
- ??????????
I tapped my pencil against the paper before shuffling through the rest of the file. I didn’t know why I still read it all, but I felt like it helped. The most important things, I thought, included Boston and summoning runes. Right after the accident, I’d been able to get a few things out of her, other than what I already knew.
She had contacts in Boston. She’d never told me who they were. I’d even taken a couple of trips after the attack, hoping to stumble across something, but Boston is big, and I had nowhere to go once I was there, so I’d come up empty.
I’d known she was on a trip to Boston that weekend. Someone named John No-Last-Name she’d worked with before had called her in for a consultation. The next thing I knew, she was stumbling into our house, eyes blurry and forehead lined in wrinkles…
I shook my head, blinked and pulled my history book back over the file. Ten minutes later, I realized I hadn’t read a word, and I needed to leave for school or I’d be late. On my way out the door, I found a letter that had been shoved underneath the door.
I picked it up and tore open the envelope, eyebrows furrowed. It was a notice from the mortgage company, saying if we didn’t pay within thirty days our home would go into foreclosure. My hand tightened into a fist around the letter. Shit.
Even with the cash I’d gotten from Kylie, we didn’t have enough money.
I stuffed the letter into my backpack, grabbed my bike and pedaled my way to school, trying not to focus on the fact that my world was falling even more apart.
***
Nathan plopped down across the lunch table and grinned, his orange tray piled high with hamburgers and cheese fries. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at how his green polo shirt matched the color of his canvas belt.
“Don’t tell me you bought a Robin costume,” I said between bites of my sandwich, eyeing his cold can of Coke with envy. I’d brought a reused plastic bottle of water with me, and it was lukewarm at best.
“Would you be happy if I did?”
I choked on my sandwich when my cheeks burned, and I pretended to turn my attention to the history book propped against my Justice League lunchbox.
“Cramming for history?” he asked. “I guess you got caught up in something yesterday.”
My eyes slid back to him, and a goofy grin lit up his face. What was he doing? I would have thought he was flirting if I didn’t already know he was into Kylie and that I wasn’t his type. I glanced down at my faded Invader Zim t-shirt and then at his polo. I pictured Kylie’s glossy hair, her dark tan, her classic pretty girl look, when I’d never been called pretty, not even by my parents. Just cute. Like a stray kitten or something. Definitely not Nathan’s type.
“I’ve got a test next period, and I’m not ready. If you must know, I was exhausted last night and fell asleep sitting up.”
His smile vanished, and he held out a hand. “Can I see your book?”
“Why?” I asked.
“Just hand it to me,” he said.
I slid it across the table and watched him flip through a few pages. Then, he pushed it back over, page open to one of the two self-tests in the back of the chapter.
“I had Mr. Brock last year. All of his quizzes are based on the second self-test at the back of each chapter. Not the exact same questions, but if you can answer the ones here, you’ll at least make a B.”
“Thanks,” I said, giving him a half-smile.
“And she smiles. Finally.” He leaned across the table and lowered his voice. “I love seeing those dimples.”
Blushing, I tapped a finger on the open page. “I appreciate the help, but I really do need to study. You need something?”
He nodded, grabbing a couple of cheese fries and chomping down. “Yeah, actually, I do.”
“Holly,” someone said from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see Brent Ackers, our football quarterback, standing with an almost-empty tray. His button-up shirt looked slept in, and his eyes were rimmed with red.
“What’s up, Brent?” I asked, heart beginning to race.
Brent looked bad. He looked…spooked.
“I need your help,” he said, and then glanced at Nathan. “Are you busy?”
Inwardly, I grimaced, thinking about my upcoming quiz, but I couldn’t turn Brent away. “No, sit down.” I gestured at the empty seat next to Nathan. “I’ve got to study, but tell me what’s going on.”
“Hey, man,” Nathan said when Brent sat down. They gave each other quick nods, and then Nathan dove into his food, eyes still watching me carefully.
Brent ran his fingers through his shaggy hair. “I heard you take care of…weird things that happen to people?”
“That’s right,” I said. “Like if someone is being haunted in their bedroom.”
He frowned and stabbed a finger at the lump of hamburger on his tray. “Yeah, but I wouldn’t call it being haunted…I’d call it being…I don’t know. Something worse than haunted.”
“What’s happening?” My voice caught, and I cleared my throat, hoping neither guy had noticed.
“It all started a couple of days ago…there was some weird carving on the floor. Objects started flying around the room. It really freaked me out,” he said.
Oh no. The shamans were targeting Brent, too. “Okay…I can take care of this tomorrow,” I said, almost biting my tongue. How stupid could I be for getting involved in this? I wiped my hands on my jeans. I could get hurt. Brent could get hurt. I felt lightheaded just thinking about facing those shamans again. But…I couldn’t leave Brent to be sucked dry by the spirit.
“Tomorrow isn’t good enough.” He tried to grab the burger off his plate, but his hands were shaking so hard he dropped it, ketchup splattering his milk carton.
“Whoa, calm down,” I said, holding up a hand.
“There’s more to it,” he said. “Last night, there was another marking. Things flew around the room again, but it was more than that. I could feel it in the room with me. Like it was watching me.” He paused, choking for a minute and glancing around to make sure no one else noticed his near-breakdown. He rubbed his hands over his arms and stared me in the eyes, like he was trying to give me some sort of signal. And I got it. The spirit had touched him, too. “I’m not staying in that house another night until it’s gone.”
He pulled an envelope out of his backpack and pushed it into my hands.
“Two hundred right there,” he said. “Please do it today. I’ll even give you double.”
I glanced down at the money in my hands. An image of the mortgage notice slid across my vision. I needed this so bad. “Okay…sure. I’ll do it.”
Brent’s mouth formed a thin line. “Thanks. My little sister is in that house. It hasn’t left my room yet, but what if it does today?”
“It won’t,” I said.
“Are you positive?” He took a long gulp of his milk, the red ketchup smearing onto his fingers.
I thought back to everything that had happened in the past twenty-four hours, and my shoulders sagged. “No, I’m not sure.”
“So, can we do it after school? I don’t want to wait any longer to get that thing out of there.”
I nodded and slid the money into my backpack. “Alright. I’ll meet you there around four, I guess.”
“Thanks, Holly,” he said, standing up and shoving away from the table. He grabbed the tray—his burger still uneaten—and made his way to the trash.
I stared down at my half-eaten sandwich. What had I gotten myself into? Two markings meant two spirits, and if the second one was touching Brent…it was a lot stronger than the first. Just perfect. And, to top it off, Brent only lived a few houses down from Kylie. Two teenagers who lived on the same street both targeted by spirit-summoning shamans. It was too much of a coincidence.
“This sounds a lot different than what happened to me,” Nathan said, making me jump. I’d forgotten he was still there.
“That’s because it is different.”
“Does this have anything to do with yesterday?” he asked, plucking a fry from his plate.
I sighed and decided to explain since he kept seeing and hearing things he didn’t understand. Besides, some part of me wanted to share, although I didn’t completely know why. The way his easy grin lit up his face, and his soft eyes met mine—it made me want to trust him. I must have hit my head too hard on a porch beam when those shamans were chasing me. “Yeah. Kylie had an experience similar to Brent’s, and somehow those two guys yesterday are connected. And because of that, I’m pretty sure they’re connected to this, too.”
He stopped chewing. “But why?”
“I don’t know,” I said, “but if I don’t banish that spirit for Brent, he could get hurt. Like really hurt.” I met Nathan’s confused expression, wondering why I was sharing this information with him. I had to admit it felt awesome, like the two of us were a team or something. “Not all spirits are the same. Some are stronger than others, and the one that attacked Kylie and the ones bothering Brent are nothing like any of the spirits I’ve seen around here.”
Realization dawned in his eyes. “Those two guys brought them, didn’t they?”
“Yeah, I think so, but I don’t know why.” I took the last few bites of my sandwich. But maybe they hadn’t brought the spirits. Maybe those guys were trying to stop the real culprits, and I’d just gotten in the way.
“So, those guys, they saw you at Kylie’s house, then?”
I nodded. “Right after Laura and I walked out of her driveway. And I know what you’re thinking. Yes, Laura is like me. She helps me out sometimes, but don’t tell anyone. She doesn’t want it spread around school.”
“Actually, I wasn’t going to ask. I figured you’d tell me it was none of my business.” He grinned for a moment before turning serious again. “It sounds like it might be a bad idea to go to Brent’s house today. What if those guys show up again?”
I crumpled my sandwich wrapper into a ball to mask the nerves making my body tremble. “I’m not going to let a couple of guys scare me away when someone is being harassed to death by spirits. We’ll figure something out.”
“Just be careful.” He reached out and tapped the open history book. “Good luck on your test.”
He stood, gave me a wave and spun around. I watched him walk away in his matching shirt and belt. I didn’t know why he’d taken such a sudden interest in my life, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it. My conscious flared up, reminding me that I’d conned several of his friends and had been willing to con him. Somehow, I didn’t think he’d be so anxious to help me if he knew the truth.
***
I only had fifteen minutes to cram before the bell rang, signaling the time to shuffle to next period. But once I had the test sheet in front of me, I was glad Nathan had told me to focus my time on the self-test. I certainly didn’t ace anything, but I got more questions right than wrong, and I was feeling relieved when I stepped into the hall after class.
Kylie stood just outside the door and smiled when she saw me. She motioned me to follow her over to the long row of lockers.
“Everything okay?” I asked. I glanced over her, noticing the flush in her cheeks and the light in her eyes. She looked one hundred percent healthy. Her usual perky self. I tried not to compare myself to her, but I couldn’t help but notice how her skin glowed perfectly, especially next to my pale face. Nathan couldn’t like me, not after being with a girl like that. Who goes from Blair Waldorf to weird stray kitten girl?
“Yeah, I just wanted to say thanks again,” she said, shaking her head and looking puzzled. “I don’t remember exactly what happened other than being freaked out and you getting rid of that ghost. I slept all night and woke up feeling great. Didn’t you give me some tea or something? Anyway, that ghost never came back, and I’m thinking it might be gone for good.”
“Great,” I said. “Glad I could help. Let me know if you have any other problems. By the way, have you noticed anything missing in your house?” I wanted to ask about the safe, but didn’t know how without revealing I’d been snooping around.
Kylie squinted her eyes. “Not that I know of. Why?”
“Just curious,” I said. “Glad you’re feeling okay today.”
I turned away to head toward the English wing.
“Wait,” she said. “I also wanted to tell you that I overheard my parents…talking in the kitchen yesterday. They said one of their friends was complaining about some weird things happening in his bedroom.”
I kept my face expressionless. “Weird?”
“Yeah, they kind of laughed at him. They think his work is getting to him, but I heard them say something about a carving on his floor, and I figured it was more than that.”
I frowned. “Thanks for the tip.”
“Yeah, he said every room in his house has a carving. He can’t get away from it. Anyway, I know you keep your ghost stuff limited to high schoolers, but it wouldn’t hurt to branch out, right? He needs your help.”
“Who’s their friend?”
“Charles Baker. He’s their age, and they know him from the harbor. He keeps his boat docked next to ours, and I think all his kids are out of college. The Baker cheerleader twins. You’ve heard of them?”
The warning bell clanged overhead.
“Yeah, I have. Thanks Kylie. I’ll look into it,” I said. “See you later.”
As I walked to class, I was barely aware of the people passing me in the hall. My ears rang, and my head felt full of cotton. That made three houses the shamans had hit. All in the same neighborhood. Since he was older, it ruled out the age pattern, but the location couldn’t be a coincidence. I wasn’t sure of the full meaning behind the fact he had a rune inside every room of his house, but I did know it meant the possibility of more spirits floating around. I shuddered. And since I’d heard about so many people being targeted in only a day’s time, I couldn’t help but wonder how many more houses out there were getting spirits summoned into bedrooms.
It was like the town was being overrun with man-eating spirits. The thought sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t know how I was going to help all these people.
CHAPTER 8
My bike wheels spun toward home as my feet pumped out my fear and frustration, moving in time with Motion City Soundtrack blasting through the earbuds stuffed in my ears. I ignored the long stretch of historic houses peeking through the dense, colorful gardens I usually enjoyed. Overhead, the sky snuck the occasional flash of yellow through dull, misty clouds, the tips of my fingers cold where they clung to my handlebars without the constant eye of the sun.
With shamans in town, multiple spirit attacks and that stupid foreclosure notice, I couldn’t help but wish for some help, wish that Dad were here. My insides twinged, and I remembered what he was like oh-so-long-ago. He was the one who had first told me about Superman, and he’d pull me up into the air and spin me around and around. I’d hold out my arms, grin like a fool and pretend I was soaring.
“What do you want to be when you grow up, kid?”
“A superhero, Daddy!”
He’d just ruffle my hair and twirl me around again.
That was before Mom h
ad said she’d had enough of his felony, thieving ways and shut him out of our life, tossing his hastily-packed suitcase on the front stoop and slamming the door on him forever. Before he’d gotten thrown into jail. Before he’d escaped and disappeared, never to be heard from again. I still didn’t forgive him for leaving us like that, for leaving me like that. I wondered if he had any idea his ex-wife was an almost-empty shell, his daughter a con-artist and the sole breadwinner of what was left of our family. If he did, he sure wasn’t doing a thing to help us out. If he didn’t, I couldn’t understand why he hadn’t checked to see how his daughter was doing, why he didn’t want to know what was happening in her life.
I shook aside those thoughts and pedaled harder, curving my bike around the corner and down our street, past a row of houses not nearly as historic or grand as the ones before. The gardens morphed down into sparse, sticky bushes and browning grass. Multi-colored brick fell away to reveal sagging, painted aluminum. The afternoon breeze rolled across my bare arms. I shivered. It wouldn’t be long before the leaves would dry to red, and the ocean would be too chilly for swimming. Summer was fading fast, right along with my hopes that everything would turn out okay.
At the cross-street in front of me, a car slowed on the pavement. My stomach lurched before I realized the man rolling down the window was not a shaman. He looked about my mom’s age and sort-of familiar, like I’d briefly seen him somewhere before. Probably a nosy neighbor if the curiosity in his eyes was any indication. He probably wanted to ask where my dad was. I’d lost count of how many rumors were circling the shops on the main drag, and I’d lost count of how many people had asked. So, I kept spinning my wheels and frowned when I passed the man’s BMW. I’m not a fan of nosy people.
When I rolled into our driveway, I saw a car sitting next to my truck—my mom’s truck—by the tall oak tree whose yellowing leaves dipped over our square little white-paneled house. I recognized the silver Jaguar right away. Laura’s dad was here, on the front stoop, and knocking on the door.
