Stalked (A Secret Salem Novel)

by J. N. Colon

  She was standing over my bed, staring down at me with a dazed expression and unfocused eyes.

  “Aspen?” I hissed when she didn’t respond.

  “I don’t know what I’m doing.” Her voice was monotone and far off, nothing like her normal snooty tone.

  A ripple of panic shook my pulse and I pulled the blanket up to my chin. Something about her demeanor reminded me of Patrick the night he dragged me around as we looked for Tatum.

  “I’m thirsty.”

  “Well get something to drink.”

  She tilted her head, her auburn hair falling like a curtain across half her face. “That’s what I was doing.” She stumbled over to our mini-fridge and grabbed a bottle of water then curled back on her bed without taking a sip.

  What the hell?

  What was Brant doing to her? And would the same thing be happening to me had I stayed at that party, on that couch, behind those curtains… with him?

  Chapter 15

  I clenched my jaw so hard my teeth could have cracked as I stomped across the grounds toward the gym. My history book disappeared out my locker—just like magic.

  A shudder rippled up my spine from the thought because it really could have been magic at Highland. Every time I thought lightly on the subject something weird happened.

  I wrenched the gym door opened, stalking in like a mad women. Madison said she might have seen a history book laying around in the girls’ locker room, but the moment the basketball court came into view I had a suspicion that was a big fat lie. Jackson was alone dribbling the ball in front of the hoop, his auburn hair messy and sweat beading down his face. His warm whisky eyes landed on me and hands stopped mid-air, a surprised smile spreading his lips.

  “Hi Rubi. What are you doing here?”

  I slowed and awkwardly smoothed my hair as if that would help the traitorous strands. They probably looked more like Medusa’s snakes from the wind outside. “Nothing. I was just looking for my history book.”

  His brow furrowed as he bent down and picked up the basketball. “In the gym?”

  “Yeah. Long story,” I said, slowing to a stop by the bleachers.

  He returned the ball to the rack and crossed the court toward me. “I haven’t seen one.” He plucked a towel from the bleachers to wipe his face.

  My eyes trailed over him as he gulped from a water bottle, noticing how the white t-shirt damp from sweat clung to his body, illuminating the lean muscles.

  “What?” he asked, noticing my intense gaze.

  “Nothing.” I perched on the bleachers and let my hair slide against my face to hide my reddening cheeks. “I was wondering if you play basketball, like, on the school team.” Totally lame.

  Jackson sat next to me, tossing the sweaty towel on the other side of him. “Highland doesn’t have any regular sports teams where they compete with other schools.”

  I actually knew that.

  “But they have intramural sports.”

  My brow rose at the unfamiliar term. “Do I look like I know what that means?”

  He laughed and gently nudged my leg with his. “Highland has teams, but we just play against each other.”

  “I see.”

  “I’m going to try out for the basketball teams.” He pointed toward the court. “If that wasn’t already obvious.”

  “Really?” I playfully nudged his knee back. “Because I thought that was soccer you were playing.”

  A bright smile split his lips, reaching all the way to the fading freckles dusting his cheeks. He suddenly averted his eyes and took a sip of water. “You know Rubi,” he said as he twisted the cap between his fingers. “Maybe you need to learn a little more about sports. You can always come watch me practice.”

  Surprise struck my chest. I knew Jackson had a small crush on me, but I hadn’t expected him to start flirting with me. I leaned forward until my hair fell against his arm and he was forced to meet my gaze. “How much practice do you need?”

  His face was flushed and it wasn’t from the physical exertion. “A lot. There’s tough competition at Highland and I’m not exactly the physically strongest guy here.”

  No. Mac seemed to take that honor.

  The image of him telling me we had to pretend not to know each other flickered through my mind, twisting my chest into knots and I suddenly felt more inclined to flirt with Jackson.

  Why not? At least he wasn’t ashamed to be seen with me in public.

  I leaned even closer and squeezed his bicep while a small smile curled my lips. “I don’t know. You seem pretty strong to me.”

  Jackson grinned.

  It was so easy with him. He wasn’t giving me mixed signals or screwing with my mind. I knew he liked me.

  A metallic clank echoed and voices entered the gym. I didn’t move away from Jackson, but my gaze swiveled to the left and met those deep-set jade eyes.

  My heart shivered upon contact.

  Brant, Tristan, and Mac entered the gym still wearing their uniforms, but their shirts were tucked out and ties hanging loose. They all had a rumpled, rakish appearance as if they’d been brawling with each other only moments ago. Laughter swelled around them, my pulse quickening at that deep timber I was becoming obsessively familiar with.

  Mac’s black hair was wild around his chiseled face, my fingers itching to tousle it more. Tristan nodded toward Jackson and Brant blew me a kiss, which I returned with the finger. Mac’s gaze lingered in the minute space between Jackson and me.

  “What’s up guys?” Jackson leaned into me a little more.

  “What have you been up to tonight?” Tristan asked, his liquid gold eyes glittering mischievously.

  Jackson shrugged. “Just getting in some practice.”

  “Practice?” Brant motioned between us. “What kind of practice?”

  They all laughed and continued toward the locker room—all except Mac. His smile was more like a grimace and jade eyes burned holes into Jackson.

  ***

  The next evening a folded piece paper was slid underneath my dorm room door, my name scrolled across the top. Aspen didn’t notice it, her gaze trained on the fashion magazine she was listlessly flipping through.

  When I opened it my heartbeats tripped all over themselves as I saw who had signed the bottom. Mac.

  Meet me in that secret place.

  I almost squealed—until I remembered I had no idea how I got there the first time.

  Crap.

  “Rubi, stop pacing,” Mac said, putting his hands on my shoulders.

  By some miracle it only took thirty minutes to find the storage room. Stacks of boxes towered over me until I made it to the opening with the chaise by the window and the coffee table. This time there were more candles and Mac was already leaning against the wall waiting on me.

  His stunning appearance alone sent hot shivers up my spine.

  But as soon as he asked how I was doing after the whole Patrick thing my mouth opened up and all thoughts of a romantic, clandestine meeting were squashed.

  “We didn’t have anything to do with those deaths Rubi,” he insisted. “They were animal attacks.”

  I ran my fingers through my hair in frustration. “But no one has even seen any kind of animal that could do that.”

  He sighed. “We wouldn’t do that kind of thing.” He plopped on the chaise, crossing his arms against his chest with a huff. “But I’m glad you think so little of me and my friends.” A flash of hurt resonated in his eyes.

  Ouch.

  “I don’t know what to think,” I admitted. I eased over and sat next to him. “I know it wasn’t you, but what about Brant?”

  He shook his head. “He wouldn’t.”

  My brow lifted. A tiny hint of uncertainty crossed his face, making my stomach churn.

  “So…” His voice suddenly turned apprehensive. “I saw you with Jackson last night.”

  Oh. That was a dirty subject change.

  “And the other night. Are you guys going out?”

&nbs
p; “Why would you care?” My tone was harsher than I meant.

  Mac looked taken aback. “I was just asking—you know as your friend.”

  I laughed bitterly. “Some friend. You pretend like you don’t know me in public.”

  Hurt flashed across his face before he averted his gaze, staring pensively out the window. “My life is so much more complicated than you think Rubi.”

  And that meant he had to ignore me?

  He jammed a hand in his midnight hair, frustrated. “And then when you tried to give me that book in front of them…” He met my eyes, humiliation darkening them. “Nobody knows me like that, especially them.”

  “Why?”

  He bit his lip, hesitating. “They can’t think I’m weak or soft or anything.”

  My face was skeptical.

  “Things like reading and being sensitive… They might think I’m not good enough to…”

  “That is completely ridiculous,” I muttered, but he wasn’t paying attention.

  “And me getting all dreamy-eyed over…” He shut up so fast I nearly missed it.

  Getting all dreamy-eyed over what?

  Mac sighed and turned to me. “Can you just try to understand?”

  “Sure.” I lied.

  I really believed he didn’t want to lose his big man on campus status by being seen with Rubiks Moon-Gem McHale and all the other stuff was total B.S.

  In that moment I decided I would say yes when Jackson asked me to the Halloween dance.

  Chapter 16

  Jackson asked me to the dance a week later and was pleasantly surprised I said yes.

  But we hit a little snag.

  “This can’t be happening,” Madison hissed, slamming the table with her fist.

  “I know.” Jackson sat next to me during lunch.

  I shrugged, only a fraction as upset as they were. “Yeah it sucks, but you can’t expect the school to let kids roam around at night when there’s a killer animal on the loose.” Although I wasn’t convinced it was an animal at all.

  Madison twisted a long finger in her short red and black hair, her gaze faraway as if in deep thought. “They need to find the animal then.”

  “Yeah,” Jackson agreed. “Then everything would be back on.”

  They both looked hopeful, but I had a feeling animal control wasn’t going to have any luck finding this thing.

  ***

  My stomach gave another groan, protesting its emptiness. “I’m so freaking hungry,” I whined, my voice carrying quietly through the chilly autumn night. I skipped dinner to finish my stupid history paper on the Trojan War. Professor Forsyth rejected my first attempt saying, “It’s absolutely elementary and you show little support for your arguments,” in that annoying British accent. Whatever. Who the hell cared about the Trojan War? The only thing I knew about it was what I learned from watching that Brad Pitt movie.

  I patted my pocket and smiled to myself. While Aspen was busy with her tongue down Brant’s throat earlier I snagged her key to the dining hall. How she got a key was beyond me, but it was definitely convenient. I was hoping to find some leftover steaks in the fridge or even a big juicy burger. Hell at this point I’d settle for fish sticks.

  The dorms were on the other side of campus and curfew was only ten minutes away—they moved it several hours up due to the animal attacks—but my stomach wasn’t having it. So I had to trek a million miles in the dark through endless groves of trees and constant swirling fog. What was with all the fog at this place? You’d think Highland was at the top of an enchanted mountain in the clouds instead of Salem, Massachusetts. Well maybe it was the whole Salem thing. Maybe the fog was a byproduct from witches’ spells or something.

  I laughed to myself at the thought and then of course—as it often happens—my laughter was cut short when I spied something eerie. Ominous lights flickered through the pitch night and hushed voices carried in the wind. I halted while fear instantly sped my heart.

  I tiptoed closer, praying I didn’t find any more dead bodies, my taut muscles protesting with every step. I could make out three figures sitting in a circle around three candles, their gold flames dancing hypnotically in the icy wind. Three of the unnaturally beautiful students were those figures—Emmaline, Tatum, and Tristan. Moonlight glimmered on the twisted silver knife Emmaline passed to Tristan, turning it liquid. He sliced the tip of his finger with the edge, bringing blood through the fresh wound.

  My heart jumped in my throat, choking my airways. Let’s see—a dark spooky night, candles, weird gothic knife, and blood. Oh man. They were doing a spell! How much more evidence did I need to prove they were witches? And not just loner teenagers filled with way too much angst, but real witches who could do real spells. Hello. I’d seen it with my own panicked eyes. Hypnosis.

  My heart was racing and a fine sheen of cold sweat broke across my forehead. I’d been curious about these kids since I arrived at Highland, but being this close and the possibility they could catch me spying was more than I could handle.

  Tatum took the knife in her petite, cream colored hand while she gracefully swept her long strawberry blonde hair behind her shoulder. She pricked her finger, her hazel eyes glowing with excitement as she watched the blood pool.

  Their voices grew louder, chanting an eerie melody.

  My pulse thundered so loud in my ears I could barely make out what they were saying. Was that Latin? No wait… Irish? Or well I mean Celtic. Or actually maybe Gaelic.

  My hands clutched the gnarled tree trunk, my fingers painfully digging into bark. If you add that language, the Celtic symbols in their secret room and the one on Brant’s necklace it made sense. It all made unbelievably terrifying sense.

  They suddenly stopped chanting and Emmaline peered over her shoulder, her forehead creasing.

  “What is it?” Tristan whispered, his liquid gold eyes following her gaze in my direction.

  My eyes bugged out my head like a cartoon character while air lodged in my throat and my lungs ceased to work. Oh shit. She was going to see me!

  “I’m not sure,” Emmaline answered, searching the darkness.

  Trembling overtook my muscles as I stood frozen to the spot.

  Don’t see me. Don’t see me. I’m invisible. I’m part of the shadows. I’m part of the darkness…

  I repeated the frantic prayer for what seemed like hours, but it was really only seconds. Finally Emmaline shrugged and turned away.

  A ragged breath escaped my mouth and I leaned my forehead against the tree, sagging. How did she not see me? Had I managed to work a little magic of my own just now?

  My quaking body slowly backed away from the threesome, not really caring why they didn’t discover me. I was simply glad they didn’t. I might have ended up walking away as a toad.

  ***

  A few days passed and I was still mulling over what I’d seen. They were definitely witches. Beautiful, ethereal, magical, powerful, terrifying witches. But I couldn’t picture Mac, sitting in a circle chanting spells. Or maybe my heart wouldn’t let me see him as something I feared.

  I was strolling down the glossy dorm hall toward my room, thinking maybe I should finally get some guts and confront him about it when an arm grabbed me, yanking me into a dark, deserted corner.

  I yelped and opened my mouth for a full on horror queen scream until I saw those too familiar jade eyes staring into mine. “They caught the animal,” Mac said, a wide grin stretching over his face.

  “What?” Shock reverberated in my voice.

  He nodded excitedly. “I heard from Headmaster Norrington they caught not one, but two mountain lions.” He held up two fingers to reiterate the number.

  My mouth nearly hit the floor.

  “I told you it was an animal.”

  My lips pursed in a mixture of confusion and doubt. “Where have they been this whole time?”

  Mac crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the wall, smug. “Two hunters found evidence of a din in a nearby cave.
They heard what happened at Highland so they waited and when two mountain lions returned they shot them. They’re dead.”

  “Huh.” Maybe the witches really had nothing to do with the two murders. Maybe they were just two separate freaky things happening at the same place. That and the eyes constantly following me around.

  That could just be my own paranoia though.

  “Isn’t it great?”

  Then another thought struck me. “Does that mean the Halloween dance is on again?”

  Mac arched a dark brow suspiciously. “Yep.”

  A grimace morphed my face realizing I really did have to go to that thing with Jackson. Not only that, but I’d have to wear a costume.

  Crap.

  ***

  Students were allowed into town this Saturday as long as we had permission from our parents. Since mine were out of the country and virtually unreachable, except in extreme emergencies, they spoke with the school ahead of time and signed whatever forms necessary.

  Thank goodness for that. I really needed to get away from Highland Academy with all its creepiness. I was still in Salem, Massachusetts—home of the witches and all—but at least I didn’t experience that distinct feeling of being watched and followed.

  Most of the students went shopping for Halloween costumes. I let Madison have free reign over mine. I trusted her and I couldn’t care less what I ended up being. Instead I opted for food. Of course. What else would I do?

  There was a gourmet food truck—yeah that is almost an oxymoron—selling hamburgers, fries, and sandwiches. When I told the cashier I wanted a burger with steak strips on top he looked at me like I was crazy.

  What? I liked meat.

  The cook just shrugged and mumbled something that sounded a lot like, “it’s probably for her boyfriend.”

  Ugh. I don’t have a boyfriend.

  I sat down at a rot iron table in the middle of the small outdoor shopping center, brushing a few orange and gold leaves off the chair. I snuggled into my hoodie to keep the autumn chill away.