"Mom,” he repeated. His voice was pitched low so only she and I could hear. “It's fine. Allie knows about us. She needed help with her homework. That's why I'm here instead of church. You always tell Nikki and me to help people."
I thought, If she falls for that one, Beck's got some serious magic going.
Melissa stared into Beck's eyes for a long moment then, with a little shudder, she pulled away. The anger left her face and when she spoke, her voice was calm and reasonable. “Well, I guess it's okay just this once. I'll see you at home."
A collective sigh of relief swept through the library as we all watched Melissa Bradford's exit.
Astonished, I turned to Beck. “What did you just do?"
Looking utterly serious, he said, “I used my dazer."
A dark cloud of suspicion began to form in my mind. “Your what?"
"It's a little trick I have,” he said. “If I touch people and look into their eyes, I'm able to absorb whatever emotion they are feeling and change it into something different. That's what I did with my mother."
I thought about the kiss we'd shared last night. How he'd manipulated me. Anger flared and set fire to my words. “You used it on me, didn't you ... last night?"
He reached out, and I scooted my chair away. As it scraped across the floor, it made a horrible shrieking sound and, once again, we were the center of attention. I hissed, “Don't touch me."
Mr. Linde, the boa draped around his neck, approached our table. He peered at me over the top of his glasses. “Everything all right, Allie?"
"Yeah, everything's fine.” I waved him away before he could get up close and personal with Buster in tow. I wanted to know more about Beck Bradford and his dazer, and I could only deal with one snake at a time.
Beck's eyes were pleading. I hardened my heart.
"It's not what you think,” he whispered. “When I kissed you...?"
He paused and waited until I nodded. “Your eyes were closed. No dazer."
"What about earlier?"
His gaze shifted away from mine.
"And don't lie,” I said.
He looked me straight in the eye. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I used it. You were scared. I needed you to relax. Do you remember what happened next?"
My mind sifted through the strange events of the previous night. “It was like you were sucking me into your mind.” My face was hot with remembering. “Then I heard my mother's voice, warning me."
Beck's eyes flared with emotion. “That's what I'm trying to tell you. You blocked me. The dazer doesn't work on you."
"But, I definitely felt something."
Beck nodded. “It worked for a few seconds. When you threw up a block, it felt like you'd punched me. And you weren't even trying. Think what you could do if you practiced."
I glared at him. “Believe me, Mister, I'll practice.” He smiled as the tension surrounding us vanished. I added, “So, watch it!"
I glanced around the room, relieved to see Mr. Linde had put Buster away and was scurrying from window to window, closing the blinds. The Oprah ladies, clutching handfuls of tissues, were listening to one of their members read a passage from the book.
Beck picked up his chair and moved it closer to me. I held my ground.
"Wanna practice right now? You're in a safe place."
"Gee,” I said. “I don't want to hurt you."
"I'll risk it."
"Okay, then. Give me your best shot."
He took both my hands in his. “Look at me."
I felt the power of his touch humming through my body and saw my face reflected in the dark pools of his eyes. It felt so good, I smiled and enjoyed the moment. That's how it works, Allie. He makes you feel good. Makes you forget. My mother's voice again.
I gathered my strength, gritted my teeth and whispered, “No."
My resistance slammed into Beck and he recoiled, but still clung to my hands. What happened next was so unexpected, so surprising, I could scarcely believe what I was seeing. My French book rose in the air and hovered vertically between us, blocking Beck's eyes. Beck grunted and dropped my hands. I gave a startled squeak, and the French book fell to the table.
Wide-eyed, I scanned the room to see if anyone had noticed. Kizzy had. Under the guise of blowing her nose, she turned away from the group and gave me a thumb's up.
When I looked at Beck, his eyes were back to normal and he was smiling like crazy. “Looks like the old TKP is working just fine."
I shook my head. “Maybe, maybe not."
I leaned close to him and whispered, “It's like I had a power surge. I wasn't trying to make the book move. Geez, what if that happened in the middle of geometry class. Everybody would know I'm a freak."
Beck, taking care not to touch me, whispered back, “I think I know what happened. The air between us was charged, like a force field. You have strong powers. So do I. When they collided ... well, you saw what happened. Don't worry about it. Okay?'
I nodded, hoping he was right, not just feeding me a bunch of bull so I'd feel better.
Beck extended a finger and touched the moonstone, tucked inside my shirt as usual. “Any change with the moonstone?"
I reached inside my shirt and moved the moonstone one click. “No. Nothing."
Beck thought for a moment then said, “Okay, that's our next challenge."
Suddenly, my head was pounding with pain, not uncommon after a burst of telekinetic power. “Can't do it tonight, Beck. I'm fried."
"Soon?"
I nodded.
"Okay, people,” Mr. Linde announced. “We're getting ready to close. If you have books to check out, please come to the counter."
Beck looked disappointed when I decided to hitch a ride home with Kizzy and Charlie. I hadn't seen her for a few days and, truth be told, I was a still a little ticked off about the whole dazer thing.
Kizzy, of course, was delighted she'd witnessed the return of my TKP. She chattered non-stop all the way home. Most of her conversation was centered around the theme, “I just knew that Bradford boy could help you."
When I unlocked the trailer and went inside, the message light on the phone was blinking. I pressed a button and heard my father's voice.
"Allie, call me when you get in. I don't care how late. It's about your field trip."
My pulse began to race, echoed by the pounding in my temples. Field trip was the code we'd agreed upon for moonstone. I knew my father wouldn't call me unless I was in danger. I reached for the phone.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Thirteen
Mike answered on the first ring. I heard a television blaring in the background and the murmur of voices. A burst of family laughter reminded me of the picture I'd seen on Mike's desk: a blond wife who looked a little like Faye and two blond daughters. Mike also had a son, a dark-haired boy who looked exactly like me. I knew the laugh I'd heard was his because it sounded like mine. A wave of regret swept over me. I didn't even know his name. We'd never met. I was pretty sure he didn't know I existed.
"Just a sec, Allie,” Mike murmured.
He spoke to someone else. “Let's go in the den where it's quiet."
I heard the sound of a door opening and closing. Mike told me, “Remember the guy Larry talked about at the Star Seeker meeting? The Trimark informant?"
"Yes."
"He turned up again. Larry's here with me. He wants to talk to you."
"Allie?” I jumped as Larry's deep voice boomed through the receiver
"Hi, Larry."
"Everything okay over your way?"
"Sure, everything's fine,” I said, thinking, Other than the demon mark on my hand and a new boyfriend who enchants people with his dazer.
Larry got right to the point. “We just found out there's a second prophecy."
I clutched the phone tighter. “So, maybe I'm not the one who's supposed to have the moonstone."
"Oh, you're supposed to have it all right,” Larry said. “The second prophecy foll
ows the other line, the bad guys."
Trimarks. Something in his tone knocked the wind out of me. I sank down on the couch. “Maybe you better start from the beginning."
As I listened to Larry describe what an informant had told him, one of Mrs. Burke's vocabulary words of the week popped into my mind. Surreal. I'd experienced the same feeling when Junior and I stumbled upon the first moonstone prophecy. Like I'd been dropped into an alien world with no guide book, no map.
"According to the Trimarks’ oral history,” Larry said. “the second prophecy goes back to the Gypsy."
I knew from the original moonstone prophecy that the Gypsy had set the moonstone in silver and cleverly added the mechanism allowing it to move in its setting. I also knew he was the father of Magda, the Empath, and through her, an ancestor of Kizzy.
Larry continued, “Magda had a twin brother. His name was Mikhail and, according to our guy, he was the embodiment of evil. Early on, he discovered the moonstone's magic and used it to perform unspeakable acts. Mikhail truly enjoyed the havoc he created, whether it was wielding a bloody knife or watching a house burn to the ground."
"He used the moonstone to do that?” I was having a hard time with the whole concept of ‘Moonstone equals evil.'
"There's more to the moonstone than we realized,” Larry said. His voice was grim. “It seems that Mikhail used the moonstone to stop time."
To stop time. Stop time? Cold prickles broke on my skin. “Okaaay,” I said slowly. “So, what happened then?"
"Allie,” Larry's voice implied I was missing a few toys in my attic, one of Brain Dead Roy's favorite sayings. “Imagine what would happen if you could stop time."
It's not like I didn't have a good imagination. I just needed a little help. I gulped air, trying to think. “Well, I suppose if time stopped for everyone except the person with the moonstone, it could be a real advantage."
Yeah, I was winging it.
Larry said, “You could walk into a bank, use the moonstone to stop time, clean out the vault and be gone before anyone knew what happened."
"Oh,” I said, in a small voice. “I didn't think of that."
"Mikhail, who was obviously bent in some way, used it to fulfill his need for violence."
I could hear Larry breathing into the phone. I gathered what was left of my courage and said, “Tell me the rest."
"The Gypsy gave the moonstone to Magda. Mikhail was driven from their village."
"That's a good thing. Right?” I asked.
"In some ways, yes,” Larry said. “But Mikhail knew the secret of the moonstone's magic. He wanted it back."
I felt a little sick to my stomach. My hand closed over the moonstone pendant against my chest.
Larry said, “You know, of course, that Magda came to America with the moonstone and used it to gain personal wealth."
"Yes,” I said. “Do we know what happened to Mikhail?"
"Mikhail joined with others of his kind."
"By others of his kind, you mean...?"
"Trimarks."
"And Mikhail told the Trimarks about the moonstone."
"Exactly,” Larry growled. “According to our source, Trimarks meet in a room with a blood-red inverted triangle etched into the wall."
The image gave me cold chills.
"The second prophecy is exactly like the first ... until it reaches you.” Larry cleared his throat. I had the distinct feeling he was stalling for time. “At their meetings, each Trimark stands, extends his right arm, fingers pointing upward, palm facing the inverted triangle on the wall. Together, they recite the original prophecy word for word, with one little addition. After they get to you—the ‘Keeper of the Light'—they chant, ‘It is our destiny to unleash the full power of the moon. We will not rest until the moonstone is joined with the dark crystal, and the world bows to our will.’”
Yikes! I definitely needed to find a better hiding place for the moonstone.
Larry was quiet, waiting for my reaction.
"That's it?” I asked, knowing he could hear the trembling skepticism in my voice.
"More or less,” he hedged.
I knew there was more. He'd given me the edited version, so I wouldn't panic. Part of me was grateful I didn't have to hear what the Trimarks had planned for me. I'd already had one encounter with them. I knew their fondness for cruelty. On the other hand, I needed to know the whole story, so I could protect myself.
I swallowed hard. “So I guess I'm in more danger than I thought."
Larry didn't deny it. “That's why we're sending Ruth Wheeler to Peacock Flats."
I muttered “Uh huh,” stalling for time, trying to match a face to the name.
"Ruth paid you a visit in the hospital,” Larry prompted.
"Oh, that Ruth,” I gushed, like I knew so many Ruths I couldn't keep them all straight. Ruth Wheeler was an FBI agent and a Star Seeker. In my own defense, I'd been under the influence of heavy-duty pain meds at the time.
"Yes, that Ruth.” Larry barked. I got the distinct feeling he wasn't too fond of teenage girls ... or he'd run out of patience. “Do you want to talk to your father again?"
Good question. Better yet, did he want to talk to me? When I didn't answer, I heard a muffled sound and Mike's booming voice. “Allie?"
"Is Larry still there? I didn't get a chance to thank him."
"I'll pass it on."
Obviously uncomfortable, Mike tried to act like a concerned father, asking about my health and my grades while avoiding all references to Faye. After admonishing me to “be careful” (did he think I was an idiot?) he hung up.
I looked at the small notepad I'd set by the phone in case I needed to jot something down. I picked up the pencil and made a list.
1. Mikhail, Kizzy's uncle, was a psychopath and a Trimark.
2. The moonstone had powers far beyond what we'd formerly believed. It could stop time.
3. There were two moonstone prophecies.
4. The Trimarks wanted to kill me, get the moonstone and rule the world.
Okay, that last one scared me a lot. For the umpteenth time, I wished I could give the darn pendant back. I couldn't, of course. The moonstone was my destiny.
Even though I'd closed all the shades, I felt the night closing in around me, along with it, a panic attack that grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go. I did something I'd never done before. I picked up the phone, dialed Roy's cell and asked Faye when she was coming home.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Fourteen
"Nicole's trying to go to Versailles,” Beck said as he walked me to class after lunch. Much to the disappointment of Donna Jo and Dora Jean, he hadn't joined us at our table. I'd seen him leave campus, probably to take care of some important half-demon business.
"Really?” I chirped, hoping to fake him out while I searched my tired brain for a clue. Was Versailles that new hot clothing store in Vista Valley? The one I couldn't afford?
Beck looked down at me and smiled. Oh yeah, he knew.
He said, “Versailles was Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette's palace in France."
"Oh, that Versailles. Why does she want to go there?"
He shook his head in disgust. “Stupid reason. She saw some movie about Marie Antoinette and got fixated on the clothes and the servants, completely ignoring the fact that both the king and queen got their heads chopped off."
My brain suddenly kicked into gear. I stopped and looked around before whispering, “You're talking about astral travel ... right?"
Beck nodded, his amber gaze sweeping over me. I felt a little tingle of awareness.
"You're not wearing the moonstone,” he said with a frown. I started walking again. Beck caught up and threw an arm around my shoulders. “Why not?"
Last night, Faye and I agreed we had to hide the moonstone. We put it inside an empty baby food jar and buried it under the apple tree. Faye held the flashlight while I dug a hole directly beneath the crooked branch where Trilby always hung h
er wind chimes.
"Too many bad guys want it."
Beck looked irritated, like I'd messed with his homework. “You'll have to wear it if you want me to figure out why it's not working."
It was then I realized I had messed with his homework. “Oh, yeah,” I said. “Step two in the healing process. Right?"
"Right,” he said.
"No dazer this time. Promise?"
"You worried about it?"
I smiled. “Not! Don't forget, buddy boy, I can block you any day of the week."
He gave me a crooked grin and a peck on the cheek.
Beck headed for Physics, and I followed Nicole and her friends into the room where we had Health class two days a week. I wondered if Nicole had made it to Versailles already, without telling Beck. Not that I was surprised she would want to go to an opulent palace in France where Marie Antoinette changed her clothes ten times a day and had servants hovering over her.
I slipped into a desk next to Mercedes, groaning silently when I realized Miss Miller was gone. Her substitute was Mr. Ted, a retire-rehire who should have stayed retired. Decrepit doesn't begin to describe Mr. Ted. He's almost totally deaf, but refuses to wear his hearing aids because the feedback keeps him awake.
After a long, painful session of roll-taking—the Hispanic names gave him fits—Mr. Ted shouted, “All right, you yahoos! Boys! You are to go to the other side of this here folding wall where you will be watching a film about examining your boy parts for testicular cancer. Young ladies! You will remain here and watch a film about cancer of the ta-tas. Any questions?"
Ignoring the raucous laughter, Mr. Ted fiddled around with the VCR, told me to press the play button and herded the boys around the folding wall. Once the films were underway, we knew he'd sneak off to the boiler room for a snooze.
"Cheap damn school,” Sonja Ortega muttered. “Should have a DVD player, not this stupid VCR."
After a thorough round of bitching, the girls settled down and I punched Play. Silence reigned as we watched a hot guy, who looked a little like Beck, soaping up in the shower and probing his family jewels for lumps. Apparently, the boys hit Play about the same time because I heard Cory Philpott yell, “Titties! All right!"
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