Gray touched the pendant at her throat before filling it in and unclasping the vial. She set it on top of the dresser.
Gray rushed down the stairs and was stopped by Mr. Morehouse’s voice as she started toward the front door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
Gray turned slowly. Last she’d seen, Mr. Morehouse had set up shop in his study. Now his papers were stacked in piles around his laptop on the dining room table.
Gray pasted a smile over her face. “I’ve been cooped up for two months, Daddy.” Daddy sounded like a word Stacey would use.
Mr. Morehouse’s facial features relaxed. “You’re right.” Gray thought that’d be the end of it until he stood up. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”
“Um, okay, let me just run up to my room and grab my sweater.” Gray dashed back up to Stacey’s room and closed the door. She picked up the phone and dialed home. “Pick up. Pick up. Pick up.”
“Hello?”
“Mom?”
“Who is this?” The voice was much clearer now.
“Meet me in front of the bookstore. Five minutes.” Gray hung up the phone. She grabbed a sweater out of the closet and raced down the stairs. “Ready, Daddy.”
“Where to?”
“The bookshop.”
Mr. Morehouse looked her over carefully. Maybe Stacey was disinclined to read.
“I’m going to need a pile of magazines,” Gray said. “Got to catch up on all my celebrity gossip . . . and world events, naturally.”
“Naturally,” Mr. Morehouse said with a chuckle.
* * *
Gray’s mom was already pacing in front of the bookstore when Mr. Morehouse pulled into a front row spot. As they approached the front door, Gray yelled suddenly, “Ms. Perez!”
Her mom turned and looked at her blankly.
Gray kept walking toward her and only stopped when she was a couple feet away. “I go to school with Charlene. My name’s Stacey Morehouse.”
Mom’s mouth opened.
Gray turned to Mr. Morehouse, who’d caught up. “Dad, this is Ms. Perez. She lost her daughter, Gray, two days before my accident.”
Mr. Morehouse, who had stretched his hand out toward Mom, pulled her to him when their fingers touched and embraced her. “Please accept my condolences, Ms. Perez.” Mr. Morehouse stepped back. There were tears in his eyes. “I know something of your pain. I nearly lost my little girl.”
Mom’s eyes began to glisten. Both adults were on the verge of waterworks. Gray cleared her throat. “Couldn’t leave my pop alone. He’s single. I don’t know why. He’s such a great guy.” Gray twirled a strand of hair around her finger. “Ms. Perez is single, too.”
“Gray!” Mom cried out.
Mr. Morehouse squinted at her mom.
“What I meant to say . . .” Mom swallowed down what sounded like a sob. “Gray was the light of my life.” She looked straight at Gray. “She still is.”
* * *
Convincing Mr. Morehouse to let her out for an afternoon hadn’t been too hard; talking him into starting school back up was more difficult. He’d gotten it into his head to hire a private tutor to homeschool her for the remaining seven weeks of the semester.
“Dad, you have to be kidding,” Gray whined. Mr. Morehouse might be a lawyer, but she’d discovered the quickest way to get him to bend. “I was trapped inside a coma with no family, friends—no one to talk to. Don’t trap me inside this house with some stodgy old tutor for company.”
What Mr. Morehouse wouldn’t budge on was driving. This was absolutely forbidden. “I’ll hire a driver,” he said.
“Or I could take the bus.”
“You? Take the bus?”
“As opposed to being chauffeured every day—uh, yeah. Doesn’t sound very economical, Dad.”
Mr. Morehouse stared at her a moment before breaking out into a grin. “Always the good head on your shoulders. You know money doesn’t matter when it comes to your happiness, but if you would prefer to take the school bus I won’t stop you.”
“That’s what I want.”
* * *
Twilight Zone revisited would best describe Gray’s first day back at school in a new body, only this time Gray was treated like a returning celebrity rather than a mental case. Students formed circles around her. The braver ones hugged her. If Gray happened to forget certain details of her life before, it was waved off as post-traumatic stress, selective amnesia—totally understandable.
With all the Stacey Morehouse admirers following her around, it was difficult to get a moment alone.
“You’re like Miracle Girl,” Trish Roberts said, stroking Gray’s hair as though touching the divine.
“Give her space!” Pete Sutherland cried when Gray walked up to Stacey’s locker. It didn’t matter that she had no clue what the combo was. It was amazing the amount of leeway people allowed a girl waking from a two-month coma. The office staff had provided a paper copy of Stacey Morehouse’s class schedule and locker combination.
“I’ll hold your books for you while you put away your coat,” Pete said.
Gray glanced at him. As Stacey Morehouse, she could probably get any guy at McKinley High, but there was only one boy she wanted holding her books. She listened for the sound of the Zippo. She turned to look down the hall. Gray felt someone staring at her, but it turned out to be the daggers from Charlene’s eyes prickling the back of her head.
Charlene had her locker door open, but she faced into the hallway, glaring at Gray.
Gray unzipped a small pouch on her bag and pulled out the pendant. Hopefully, Raj and Adrian were wearing theirs. She clasped it around her neck and tucked the vial under her shirt.
“Excuse me a sec,” Gray said to her groupies. “Mind guarding my locker a moment?”
“My pleasure,” Pete answered.
Charlene’s eyes narrowed as Gray approached. “Hi, Charlene,” Gray sang out in Stacey’s peppy voice.
Charlene looked her up and down. “Welcome back.”
“The doctor said it was a miracle.”
Charlene’s lower lip stuck out.
“I’m just ready to move on with my life and pick up where I left off.”
Charlene grasped her hands. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay away from Blake.”
“Or what? You’ll try to kill me again?”
Charlene started.
Gray moved within inches of her face. “I know what you did to me.”
Charlene’s jaw dropped. She cowered, and it made Gray stand up even taller. These long legs of Stacey’s were nice. There was fear in Charlene’s eyes. There ought to be.
This was for Stacey Morehouse.
This was for Gray.
“Who told you that?” Charlene asked. “They’re lying!” she said when Gray stared her down. “If it was Raj McKenna, you should know he has a weird fixation on me.”
Gray threw her head back and laughed. “Stop lying, Charlene.”
Charlene eyed her suspiciously. Her lower lip quivered in the next instant when she looked into Gray’s eyes. Gray made them flash the way only a witch could, sending an electrical current like lightning crackling around her irises. It sent pinpricks of pain back to her eye sockets, but the effect was dramatic.
“I know what you are, Charlene. I know what you did, and now I’ve taken your powers.”
Gray looked at Charlene’s legs. Her sister followed her stare. A wave of pale white skin rolled over her legs like stockings being stripped off. At the same time Charlene was losing her perfect tan, Stacey’s skin filled with color.
“You can’t do that!” Charlene cried. “It’s not possible.”
Gray leaned in. “If I were you, I’d keep my voice down—wouldn’t want to end up in an insane asylum.” Gray spun on her heel and left Charlene opening and closing her mouth like a guppy.
There was only one thing left to do.
* * *
Gray was waiting on the hood of Raj
’s car when he walked out at lunch. The luck amulet he’d given her dangled from her fingers. She watched Raj’s eyes alight upon it. Gray swung it into her palm and closed her fingers around it.
Raj approached her cautiously. “Pretty amazing recovery,” he said.
She pushed herself off the hood. “No doubt.”
“Is this permanent?” Raj asked, waving a hand to indicate the towering figure that was Stacey Morehouse.
“Twenty-four-seven.” Gray smiled. “I suppose I can learn to live with being a size zero.”
“I don’t care what size you are so long as it’s you.”
“Aw, say stuff like that and I might have to kiss you, McKenna.”
Raj’s lips, however, were pressed together in a non-kissy kind of way. “So Adrian’s spell worked?”
“What spell?”
“When we arrived at your house you’d turned into Charlene and Adrian performed some kind of Latin spell—nearly killed himself in the process. His grandmother left town with him.”
Gray poked her tongue against her cheek and stared at Raj. “I didn’t see either of you after the extraction.”
“Extraction?”
“Ryan succeeded in extracting my soul from Charlene’s body, but he didn’t destroy it.” Gray snorted. “He told me to go to the light. I went to Stacey’s body, instead.”
Raj’s entire body sagged. “I thought I lost you again.” His voice cracked, making Gray’s heart ache for the pain he’d gone through a second time.
She smiled with reassurance. “Nope. This witch ain’t going nowhere.” She uncurled her fingers around the amulet. “I am going to need new initials put on this, however. Think you can get used to calling me Stacey?”
Raj’s eyebrows drew together.
“What about Lee?” Gray asked. “It’s Stacey’s middle name—sorta fitting really.”
Raj looked Gray in the eye. “It’s not just the name. Your life is going to be different from now on. Are you sure you don’t want to exchange me for the senior class president or captain of the basketball team?”
Gray pocketed the amulet before putting her arms around Raj. She brushed her cheek against his then whispered in his ear, “Not for all the magic in the world.”
When they kissed, it didn’t matter whose lips Gray used. Her soul had survived and found companionship with an incredible guy who just happened to be a warlock. It had taken a trip to the bone yard for Gray to recognize what was right in front of her.
Most people didn’t get a second chance. Gray didn’t plan on wasting hers.
She wrapped her arms around Raj and breathed in his scent.
“I wonder what it is Adrian thinks he did,” she mumbled against Raj’s sweatshirt.
Raj chewed on his lower lip before answering. “He kept muttering something about February ninth.”
Gray glanced up at Raj.
“The day I died. I wonder why.”
“He seemed to think you were coming back that day.”
“Well, I’m already here. Thank god I don’t have to wait until next year. I’m done being dead.”
Raj squeezed Gray against him, enfolding her in his warmth.
“Good,” he said. “I’ve never cared for graveyards. Promise you won’t disappear on me again, Lee.”
Gray nudged him with her shoulder. “Invisibility is sorta my thing, remember?”
“You know what I mean.”
Gray’s throat grew thick with emotion.
“Don’t worry, Raj. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her place was among the living, with Raj. She’d defied death twice and lived to tell. Graylee Perez was here to stay.
And Then There Were Two
Want to know what happens next? The magical mayhem continues in the second Spellbound novel: Duplicity!
If Graylee Perez thought sharing a body with her twin sister was bad, dealing with a duplicate of herself is two times worse. Gray the second doesn’t seem to get that Lee’s boyfriend is off-limits. Then there’s the problem of Adrian Montez. He expects one of the Grays to be his.
Nearly a year later, the council is on to them for past misdeeds; Lee, along with the rest of the coven, has lost control of her powers; and, Gray is being stalked by what looks like the Grim Reaper.
If the two Grays work together, they may stand a chance of setting things right and making it out alive.
For more paranormal romance and heart-pounding action, check out the following scene from Aurora Sky: Vampire Hunter. Book one is FREE in eBook or at a reduced price in audiobook for your listening pleasure.
“Full of action from the very first page, Aurora Sky is a book that will have the reader hanging onto every word, staying up late into the night to find out just what is going to happen next.”
-Examiner.com
Volleyball had been replaced by badminton while I was in the hospital. Mr. Mooney let me get away with sitting out class the first two days, but by the third he decided to diagnose me as fit for participation.
“Sky, ready to jump back in?”
I paused on my way to the bleachers. “I’m not dressed.”
Besides, everyone was already paired up.
“Fane!” Mr. Mooney called. “Get out here. You can be Aurora’s partner.”
I tried not to flinch or show signs of distress. My last memory of Fane involved his tongue tracing his upper lip in lewd gesture.
Fane stood up and gave Mr. Mooney a glare so dark it sent a shiver down my spine. It was the first real sensation I’d experienced since the accident. When his eyes moved to me I momentarily forgot to breathe.
Fane held my gaze a moment longer then slipped out of his leather jacket. I watched, transfixed. This was history in the making. Fane Donado taking off his coat.
All of his imperfections breezed out the door as soon as I got my first look at the six-pack straining against his cotton tee. My eyes must have been playing tricks on me. For a guy with such a slender build, Fane was surprisingly muscled.
Fane took deliberate steps down the aisle of the bench, straight to the edge. He jumped from the bleachers, causing them to rock in his wake.
I swore I felt a thud inside the pit of my stomach when he landed.
Mr. Mooney nodded at Fane. “You two are playing Clayton and Tyler.”
Fane walked past me and took two rackets off the floor. He handed me one. I took it from his outstretched hand then followed several steps behind.
Part of me was relieved he didn’t say anything. All I could think about was the obscene gesture he’d made right before my world turned up-side-down. I hardly noticed his hair. I was too distracted by his lips. And now his abs. Luckily, I wouldn’t have to look at either while we played side by side.
At the far court, Clayton and Tyler bounced birdies up and down on the strings of their rackets.
Clayton nudged Tyler as we approached. “Oh great. Goth boy and zombie girl. This should be fun.”
I took my place beside Fane. He held his racket loose and lazy. I barely held mine at all. Clayton pelted the birdie at me. I tried to shield my face and ended up dropping my racket.
“Oh, come on!” Clayton shouted.
I picked up the birdie and threw it over the net.
Clayton served the birdie to Fane, who smacked it over the net with the flick of a wrist. Tyler launched the birdie at me. It hit me on the shoulder, but I swung anyway as it bounced to the floor.
“Hello? Earth to Aurora,” Tyler called across the net.
“I think she’s still in a coma,” Clayton said.
“That’s game,” Tyler said. “Your serve.”
I picked up the birdie and handed it to Fane. It’s a good thing it wasn’t a real bird. Fane crushed it in his hand. Only for a moment. Only I saw. He relaxed and looked across the net. I felt that odd shiver return.
Fane smacked the birdie as though it were a fly. He walloped it right between Tyler and Clayton so fast neither boy had time to react. When they did manage a return
hit, Fane gracefully flicked away any stray birds that came at me. I watched in fascination, fully engaged for the first time since the accident.
The boys tried to hit the birdie back. Fane had them racing across every corner of their court. By the end of the period they were out of breath. They took off without a backwards glance when Mr. Mooney blew his whistle signaling the end of gym.
As I walked past Fane I felt a twitch. Not my own. I felt the twitch of his hand wanting to stop me.
“Hey, you. Are you okay?”
If I had any emotion left I’d laugh. He didn’t even know my name—that or it wasn’t worth saying.
He studied me carefully. “I’ve seen that look before.”
Now I was curious.
Valerie jumped down from the bleachers. “Fane!”
He didn’t pay attention to her. I held my breath waiting for him to tell me what he saw.
Valerie sashayed her way over to Fane, red hair blazing down her shoulders. She held out his jacket. “I’m ready to blow this joint. Let’s get a bite.”
Her last words grabbed his attention, and he forgot me completely. Valerie looped her arm around Fane’s and they walked toward the double doors. I was right behind them, silent as a ghost. When I reached the hall entrance leading to the locker rooms I stopped. I saw his head start to turn. I knew he was going to look back, but by the time he did I’d be gone.
About the Author
Nikki Jefford is a third generation Alaskan, living in the Pacific Northwest. She has a slight obsession with death and cheating it. If you would like to receive an email alert when Nikki’s next book is released, sign up here. Your email address will never be shared and you can unsubscribe at any time.
Word-of-mouth is crucial for any author to succeed. If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review, even if it’s only a line or two; it would make all the difference and would be hugely appreciated.
Entangled Page 22