Storm: a Salt novel (Entangled Teen)

by Danielle Ellison

  She moves toward me again, and I step away. Feeling like I could explode. “What don’t I understand?”

  I shake my head. I can’t say anything to her about this. I can’t tell her. “There’s more going on than that. Trust me.”

  “That’s hard to do, considering.”

  Pop moves closer to Gran, resting a hand on her shoulder. The two of them are near to me, eyes narrowed in like lasers. My sister’s machines pulse and beep around me, filling the tiny room with unnatural sounds. Everything feels constricted. I feel too big for this space and too lost in it at the same time.

  “I have to go,” I say.

  “Your sister needs you. She’s always been there for you when you needed her. Whatever you have going on can wait,” Pop says.

  It’s the first time he’s spoken in a few minutes, and he does that thing with his voice. He knows how to get me. But when I look back at him and I see her in that bed, he’s right. Connie would do anything for me, and I’d do anything for her. And that’s why I leave.

  …

  I find Lia in a bar she mentioned before with some other demons. They snarl when I approach, but she holds up a hand and they back off.

  “This is ballsy—especially for you.” She almost looks impressed.

  Demons are staring at me, but I ignore all of them. “My sister is getting worse.”

  She looks at my covered arms and pulls up my long sleeves. The blackness trails up my arm. “It’s spread.”

  She can’t see beyond that, but it goes all the way to my neck and down my waist straight to my knees. “Yes, but it’s not happening fast enough. The Observance is in five days, Lia. Five days.”

  Lia pauses and masks the blackness with her magic. When she opens her eyes, she says, “You better work extra hard then, Penelope. Look, I’ve told you what you have to do.”

  “I can’t flip off my emotions. I’m not you,” I snap.

  “Not yet,” she says. “But soon. We can’t do the ritual until the Observance anyway, so you have five days.”

  Five days. That’s so not what I want to hear.

  Lia puts her hand on my shoulder. “Keep working at it. Keep using the magic. I promise you’ll be able to save her.”

  I turn around and leave.

  I’m so sick of promises.

  Chapter Thirty

  Carter

  I park my car outside of the address sent to my phone. I must be crazy for coming here. I don’t know who sent the message, but with so much going on, I couldn’t overlook it. I open the door and tighten my jacket around my neck against the bitter D.C. wind.

  It’s 65F outside on a Tuesday, and it leaves a bad taste in my mouth. A change has come like Vassago said it would. I doubt the weather was all that Vassago was referencing, but it could be some kind of omen. It’s never this cool in August.

  Outside the abandoned building in the middle of H Street, a door’s propped open with a rock. I inch my way into the space. Light streams in through the broken windows, and a noise like the clinking of chains fills my ears. Muffled voices echo through the hallway. I grip a knife in my belt, ready for whatever could jump out at me. Demon, Static, or Non, I’m not taking any chances.

  I follow the hallway around a left turn, and then a beam of bright white light fills the darkness and blinds me. I cover my eyes, and lean against the wall. The light is hot as it touches my skin, almost burning into me like the sun. I can’t place what this is, and as the spot against my coat starts to get uncomfortable, all the heat sensations disappear.

  That was not normal.

  I pull the knife into my hand, and turn the corner. There’s another clinking, louder this time, and a voice yells, “You can do better.” And then I creep into the room. I see blond hair across the room next to pink skin. I’ve got to be imagining this.

  “Penelope?” My mind is racing, because standing there next to a chain fence is my girlfriend. My eyes dart around the room and settle on the mauve demon. Mauve. Vassago’s been warning me about her since day one. “What are you doing here?”

  The mauve demon looks from me to Pen, and speaks under its breath what sounds like “awkward.” Yeah. Why is Pen here with that demon? What are they doing? What was that light? I start to slide the knife back into my belt, but change my mind. I may need it. I step toward the demon, knife ready. Considering everything, seeing Penelope here is not what I need right now. I told her not to make deals.

  “Someone better tell me what’s happening right now.”

  No one speaks at first, and then I move toward it. I have no problem ending this creature here and now. Even if it’s supposedly on our side. The demon puts its hands up. “Geesh. You are impatient. Point that knife somewhere else.”

  I lower the knife half an inch to show I’m amiable. Really I could slide this in the demon’s throat and feel no remorse at all.

  “I asked her to come,” Pen says. I look over the demon’s shoulder at her.

  I glance at Pen and try to read her face. She seems nervous. I swear if she went behind my back on that deal…

  “You asked her to come? And do what?”

  Each second she doesn’t answer is a blunt punch to the gut. There’s more going on here. I can feel it.

  Pen moves toward me. “We were talking, that’s all. I wanted to see if she had an update about the Statics that were dying, and if it relates to my sister.”

  I slide the knife back into my belt. Not because I trust the demon, but because Pen’s near me. And I feel irrational. Like I could smash in its smug face. “You think it’s connected?”

  Pen shrugs. “I think it’s worth looking into.”

  I look toward the demon, who nods. “So, is it related?”

  The mauve demon answers. “Unclear, which is what I told her. I’m going to look into it.”

  “So, basically you’re no help at all,” I snap.

  The mauve demon crosses its arms. “You’re spunky. I see why you like him. You can both annoy the world together.”

  I smirk. “That’s a compliment.”

  “Don’t fight with her,” Pen says. Her voice is nearly pleading. Since when does she care if I fight with a demon? It’s what I do with demons. I pull my gaze toward Pen, and I can’t quite pinpoint what’s off. Ever since she was marked she’s been changing. Becoming more like a stranger. “Why are you calling her here? She’s already proven that she doesn’t know as much as she thinks.”

  The mauve demon growls. “That’s harsh. I’ve given you more information than your Triad has.”

  I ignore the comment and don’t look away from Pen. “What was that light?”

  “What light?”

  Pen’s face is blank when she says that, but there’s no way she didn’t see it. I look from her to the demon again. “That bright light. What was it?”

  The demon smiles. “That was the void.”

  “The void?” I glance at Penelope. If she showed this demon that she can access the void, then we’re in more trouble than secret meetings. She can’t give a demon that information. I lower my voice. “Did you…?”

  Pen shakes her head and I exhale. At least that’s one thing I can cross off the list. “She was showing off with her magic. That’s all. She’s leaving now.” Pen glares at the demon.

  With a nod, Mauve says, “Until next time, lovebirds,” and then she flickers out.

  She’s barely gone when I say, “I don’t like that demon.”

  I look at Pen, and she takes my hand in hers and pulls me toward the door. “Have you eaten? I could eat.”

  I stop walking. She’s deflecting. I’m a Prescott and we do that better than anyone. “Don’t,” I say. “What are you doing right now? Here? With that?”

  “I told you. I had questions and she’s good at getting the answers. How did you even get here?”

  I shake my head. “Someone texted me an address.”

  “Weird,” is all she says.

  She doesn’t make eye contact with me for three secon
ds. She’s hiding a secret, a big one, but what is it? I want her to tell me so I can be here for her. Whatever it is. I’ll understand. “Demons don’t have the answers to this, Pen.”

  “Or maybe they do and they aren’t sharing,” she says.

  I shake my head. I can’t stand this. She opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it. I stare at Pen, hoping, praying that whatever she’s dealing with she’ll tell me.

  “I’m glad you showed up, though. I missed you. I haven’t had time with you since before Lindley’s funeral.”

  So much for that. She’s changing the subject on purpose. “It’s been crazy with the Observance in five days, and Dad has kept me busy,” I say.

  “I have you now,” she steps toward me. Pen wraps her hands around my neck, fingers trailing at the ends of my hair. I start to ask her what else is happening, but then she presses her lips against mine, and my brain is all Penelope. Her skin under my fingers, her lips pressed against mine. Even with everything else going on, Pen is right here. Still solid. She’s what I’m fighting for.

  …

  An hour later, we’re sitting at Guapo’s. Pen stares at me across the table, looking bored and angry at the same time. “They’re still insistent on the marking? It’s obviously causing more harm.”

  “Unless we figure out another alternative.” The thought of it makes me sick. The Statics didn’t ask for this magic, they didn’t seek it out, and yet they’re dying because of it. Because of me and Pen.

  Pen taps her finger on the table. There’s a small mark I notice, a black one, and I reach out for her hand. She moves it quickly under the table. What was that?

  “We can do the Restitution.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Lia says I can do it. She thinks that because of my status I can access the void.”

  “Lia?”

  Her eyes focus on mine, sharp and all business. “The mauve demon.”

  I scoff. “You’re on a first name basis with it?”

  “Her,” Pen says sharply. “And yes. I couldn’t keep calling her ‘demon.’ It’s insulting.”

  I shake my head, still stuck on the fact that Pen calls the demon by its name. “That’s what it is: a demon. We don’t owe it anything.”

  She scoffs at me. “She’s proven herself truthful over and over again.” Her voice is almost sarcastic.

  I lean in toward Pen. “That’s what makes me nervous.”

  “I trust her, Carter.”

  What is Penelope even looking for? None of this makes sense. “That’s great, but your trust in her doesn’t give me any ideas how to save the Statics.”

  She crosses her arms. “I’ve given you an idea, but you don’t want to hear it.”

  “You’re right;. I don’t.” I don’t even want to have this conversation. All of this is ludicrous and she would see that if she was thinking straight.

  Penelope leans in. “Your dad would be for it. This could solve his problems, even if it cost me.”

  “I’m not my dad,” I snap, and I hate the comparison. Anything he would do, would think is a good idea, isn’t something I want to support. Especially at the cost of her. She knows that.

  The food comes and she picks up her fork. I see her fingers again, and realize she didn’t answer my question. This time, though, there’s nothing really to see. It’s only her hand. No blackness.

  …

  “I’m sorry we fought,” Pen says outside her house. “I don’t want to fight.”

  “Me, either,” I say. I should kiss her. I want to kiss her. I always want to kiss. Hell, even mad I want to take her and kiss her until I forget, but it feels off. I’m not forgetting any of this. I’m going to file it away and figure it out.

  Instead I kiss the side of her mouth, where her smile forms. “Together,” I say.

  She smiles back and wraps her arm around my neck. “You and me.”

  We do kiss, but it’s a slow kiss. A familiar one to remind each other that we’re still here. It’s a good kiss, don’t get me wrong, it’s always good. This one though, this one feels fractured. Like we’re both doing it because we feel like we need to.

  “Tomorrow?” she asks.

  I nod as she goes inside. Before the door closes, I realize that I never want to kiss Penelope like that again. Like it’s something I need to do as solidarity. I want to kiss her because I can’t not kiss her.

  …

  After I take Penelope home, I go to see Poncho at the library and tell him all the things I’ve seen. The way Penelope was hanging out with a demon, the light of the void, the blackness that wasn’t really there. He shrugs, not able to offer any assistance. I pull out the list of words from Vassago.

  CHECK. REMAIN. DAGGER. MAUVE. OBSERVANCE. QUEEN.

  “These are a warning. I got it the night before Penelope was marked. That mauve demon has been around ever since then. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  Poncho’s eyes narrowed in on the page. “You’ve searched for their connections?”

  I nod. “I found an article about a gift, Taliel, and Lucifer, but I think it was one of those mythological beliefs, a story, not real.”

  “Aren’t all things in mythology based on reality?”

  “So, it’s real? This gift?” Seak jumps on the desk and knocks over some pencils. Poncho bends down to pick them up, muttering at the cat. I wait, impatience building until he’s done and standing back up. “Poncho, is it real?”

  “Some have faith in it, but it has not come yet.”

  I take a breath. “Can you show me everything you have in the library on it?”

  Poncho’s eyes light up and he nods. “You can’t possibly read it all in one night.”

  “Good thing I still have a few days before the Observance” I say.

  “Indeed,” he says with approval.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Penelope

  I can’t feel my toes anymore in my running shoes.

  The temperature dropped overnight, and it hasn’t gone up. I should stop running, but if I stop then I realize that I have three days. It doesn’t feel like enough time to finish connecting to the void, or fix any of the mess I’ve made. It’s all I’ve been doing since Maple died, trying to clean up messes, but I’m only making them worse. So, running it is.

  I spent the entire day yesterday, until Carter interrupted, with Lia. And when he took me home, I went back out with her. Only my face and feet remain unchanged by the void. The glamour I make for the blackness isn’t as strong as Lia’s yet, so I still need her to do it.

  I feel lonely. Everyone is preoccupied with the Observance. I’m not home when Pop and Gran are there, and since Gran and I aren’t really speaking now it’s probably for the best. They’re always with Connie. I want to go see her, to be with her, but if I’m with her then I’m not practicing, and I’m emotional, which won’t save her. I haven’t talked to Carter since he dropped me off yesterday, not even a text.

  On instinct or auto-pilot, I end up at the Nucleus House. I can’t see anything beyond what the Nons see, the Capital of the United States. A white building with gold top. There’s no alternate entrance, no magic hiding beneath the surface. At least not for me. Even the Static door, which is usually ten spaces to the left of the main entrance, is a wall. Being marked sucks.

  Lia appears beside me. “I hate being this close to so many witches.”

  She can see them and I can’t. I wonder what they’re doing. Knowing Mrs. Bentham, I’m sure the whole party will be extraordinary. Even if it’s inappropriate to celebrate when so many people are dying.

  “Then leave.” I’m not really in the mood.

  “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” she says back.

  I roll my eyes. “Why are you here right now?”

  “There’s a snag in our procedure,” she says. “I can’t get one of the herbs—the Dragooni. Apparently, it’s out of stock.”

  “Did you go to Target? They have everything.”

  I
’m still not looking her. My eyes are out there, where I know the witches are. “You need to get us some for the Restitution.”

  I look toward Lia. Of course she does. I do everything. “Where do I get it? You’re the demon.”

  A smile creeps up on Lia’s face, and I was not trying to be amusing. The fact that she thinks I am annoys me even more. I turn away from her, but she walks alongside me.

  “I can’t ‘get it’ like buying a dress, and you can’t, either—but you know someone who knows someone who can.”

  “Who?”

  …

  I release the button on the relay and balance my footing. The lights are off in the library, which is creepy and weird, since the lights have never been off while I’m here. I press my hand against the wall and use it as a guide to Poncho’s office. The door is closed, but light shines through the crack of it. He’s in there. I knock three times before the door opens.

  “Miss Grey, back again,” he says, barely looking up from his desk.

  “I missed your charm,” I say, moving into his office.

  “I’m certain.”

  I stop a few feet from his desk, petting the cats’ heads. I shouldn’t be surprised that Lia sent me to Poncho.

  “You seem to be in thought.”

  “Yeah, it’s been a weird couple of days.” To say the least. When I look up, Poncho is watching me, eyebrows taut with concern. I think that’s what it is, anyway. It’s not entirely easy to tell what someone is thinking by their eyebrows. “What?”

  “You are stressed.”

  “A little busy,” I say.

  “Secrets have a way of eating at us,” he says. Poncho’s eyes grow wide, examine me, and then soften. “Why are you here today?”

  “I have a question.” He waves me on to ask, his attention fully focused on me, and I sit in a large chair. “I’m looking for an herb called Dragooni. Do you know where I can find that?”

  He hmms and rubs his hands. “Dragooni is forbidden in the witch community. A rare herb with tremendous use, it’s only found in the distant mountains of the Himalayans, and can only be plucked from its home by the power of one who serves selflessly.”