Bitter Demons

by Sarra Cannon

  Maybe that was why she always seemed so eager to help me out or talk to me about what was going on in my life. She’d definitely tried to reach out to me several times. She’d even trusted me with her magic secrets. I suddenly wondered what Courtney’s real story was. And Mary Anne’s too, for that matter. I mean, here we were, three girls living in the same house day in and day out, yet we hardly knew a thing about each other’s past.

  There was a reason each of us were brought here. According to Morgyn, it was because we were all either adopted or motherless, and we all showed some kind of tendency toward magic. But where were Courtney and Mary Anne from? Did they have families out there? Or were they adopted like me?

  Could their past have something to do with Caroline’s disappearance? I didn’t have anything connecting Caroline to this house, but the look on Mary Anne’s face last night made me think she was hiding something. To me, finding out more about the girls I lived with might be the first step toward figuring out who wanted me dead.

  If Agnes was smart enough to figure out why she was brought to Shadowford, why not Mary Anne and Courtney? And I’d already learned firsthand what that knowledge could do to someone who wasn’t chosen to join the Order. It was enough to make Agnes want me dead. Was one of the other girls living here just as angry?

  Whoever took Caroline really wanted me. I was sure of it. I pulled a notebook from my bookbag and started a list. At the top, I wrote MOTIVE in capital letters.

  Who had motive to hurt or kill me?

  The Others went to the top of the list. After all, I’d killed three of their top local members. That wasn’t exactly public knowledge or anything, but I couldn’t be sure no one knew what happened that night at the old Brighton Hospital. The Others seemed to think all demons were evil and any witch who joined with a demon was equally evil. They wanted to end the Order of Shadows, and for them, killing me would be a huge victory. Yes, they had motive for sure.

  Mary Anne and Courtney were next on the list with a big question mark beside their names. I needed to dig deeper into their past to try to find out if some hidden motive lurked in there somewhere. Plus, I needed to find out just how much they both knew about this town and why they were brought to Shadowford in the first place.

  I tapped my pencil against the edge of the notebook. Who else might have a motive to want me dead? After last night, it was clear that Mrs. Shadowford didn’t want me here, but wasn’t she a member of the local Order? If she went through her initiation here in Peachville, then her life depended on mine. That automatically ruled her out, unless she was suicidal.

  I wrote her name on the list anyway. There was always a possibility she was never joined with a demon from the Peachville gate. Maybe Jackson would know.

  I spent the rest of the morning trying to think of any reason someone would want me dead. A morbid task for a cold, dreary morning. When all was said and done, I had a total of 5 entries on my list.

  MOTIVE

  1. The Others

  2. Mary Anne and/or Courtney ??

  3. Mrs. Shadowford (Peachville demon gate?)

  4. Rival demon gate with reason to hate Peachville

  5. Some mystery person (Crow?)

  Overall, it wasn’t the most impressive list. There were just too many unknowns at play. The jeans I wore the night before were crumpled up on the floor. I leaned down and fished the black feather from the pocket.

  Somehow, that feather was the key.

  Zara

  A loud knock stirred me from my thoughts. I shoved the black feather under my pillow just as the door swung open.

  I was expecting Courtney or Ella Mae, but the girl at the door was a stranger. Her stunning porcelain skin and white-blonde hair made her look like an angel. Or a ghost. Even her eyes looked slightly transparent, they were such a light color of misty blue. She was holding a long silver box in her hand.

  She smiled and her eyes lit up. “May I come in?”

  “Sure,” I said. I stood and put my hands in my pockets. I was hardly dressed to meet new people with my fuzzy pajama pants and a plain black tanktop. “I’m Harper.”

  “I know who you are, silly.”

  Um, okay. “And you are?”

  The girl giggled and the sound was like tinkling glass. If I believed in them, I’d say she was some kind of fairy with her dainty features and soft voice. “I’m not used to having to introduce myself,” she said. She held her small hand out to me. “My name is Zara Winter.”

  Her hand felt like cold marble. Strong and delicate at the same time. There was considerable power flowing through her veins. I felt it surge through me as our hands touched. It was that same sort of static electricity I’d felt before with some witches, only more pure.

  How could someone so young be so powerful? She couldn’t have been more than fourteen years old.

  “I found this outside your door,” she said. “A present from an admirer?”

  I crinkled my nose. She handed the box to me and I shoved it under my bed. “An unwanted admirer,” I said. Was Drake ever going to give up?

  “I’m here as your guardian,” she said. She crossed over to the window and looked out toward the fountain. “At least until they figure out what happened to Caroline.”

  I stared at her, not believing my luck. “I thought they would send some kind of mean troll or something,” I said. “You know, some brute with a giant club.”

  Zara laughed, her shoulders bouncing happily. “Nothing so dramatic,” she said. “Have you been cooped up in this room alone all day?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not so bad. I have my own bathroom, at least.”

  “No offense, but I couldn’t stand to be locked away in a dreary room like this,” she said. “There’s hardly any good color in this room at all.”

  Her eyes studied the room from ceiling to floor, obviously not happy with the way things looked. She closed her eyes and pressed her palms together in front of her body. A shimmering aura radiated from her, like the way heat looks coming off blacktop - only beautiful. I let out a little yelp as my bedroom transformed in an instant to a room with bright white walls and touches of pastel blues, pinks, yellows and greens everywhere. My canopy bed was gone, replaced by a modern bed with a white headboard and a pink comforter. The hardwood floors were covered with a pristine white carpet.

  I almost reached for my sunglasses, it was so darn bright.

  “There,” she said. “What do you think?”

  Her smile showed that she loved the room now that it was completely different. To me, it looked more like a poodle threw up all over the place. Of course, I figured it would be a bad idea to offend the girl who was supposed to be watching over me for the next however many days.

  “It’s… bright,” I said with a tense smile.

  Zara threw her head back and laughed. “You hate it,” she said. “I can tell.”

  I laughed too, relieved that she wasn’t angry. “It’s just not my style, that’s all.”

  “So what is your style?” she asked. “Black lace curtains and a velvet bedspread?”

  I raised an eyebrow. That didn’t sound half bad. Something the old me would have killed for. But now? Had I changed? Or was I just too much under the influence of my new friends and position?

  “Maybe something in between,” I said. “I like color. Just not this much white around it.”

  “Fair enough,” she said. She closed her eyes briefly and the room instantly turned back to its normal state.

  “Not to be rude, but who exactly are you?” I asked. “I mean, I know your name, but you don’t go to school here right?”

  “Gosh, no,” she said. “My mother is a priestess on the High Council. We live in Washington D.C., so we’re closest to Georgia out of anyone else on the main council.”

  “So you’re a future?”

  “Yes, I am,” she said. There was something about her that was so child-like, but sometimes the way she spoke also made her seem very mature for her age. She was defi
nitely a curious kind of girl.

  “I thought they were worried futures were possibly under atttack,” I said, wondering why they would send a future to protect another future.

  She laughed. “I’m a third,” she said. “I’m trained as a guardian. I’m fully capable of protecting you.”

  “I don’t know much about the council or how the Order really works,” I said, feeling more than a little embarrassed. “I’m still really new at all of this, so I’m sorry if I should have recognized you.”

  She shook her head and put her hand on my arm. “It’s alright,” she said. “I don’t mind. It’s actually refreshing to have someone treat me like I’m a regular girl.”

  Zara sat down on the blue rug in the middle of the floor. I sat next to her.

  “How many people are on the High Council?”

  “Five, chosen from the first five demon gates ever opened all around the world.” she said. “Plus the High Priestess. She’s a descendant of the very first witch ever born of a shadow demon.”

  I should have guessed. Five candles in the pentagram on the floor in the ritual room. Five women in blue cloaks on the night of Brooke’s ceremony.

  “Are there other council members in the United States? Or is your mother the only one?”

  Zara leaned her head to the side and laughed. “You’re so much fun,” she said. “So full of questions and curiosity.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “No, I love it,” she said. “Most of the girls I know are so set on impressing me or making me like them, they never think to just be themselves around me. Of course, I don’t want to sit around answering questions all day.”

  “What else can we do?” I gestured to the room around us. “My room isn’t exactly fun.”

  She raised a single eyebrow at me and tilted her head to the side. “Who said we had to stay in this room?”

  “Mrs. Shadowford-“

  “You really think that old bat can tell me what to do?” she said with a sly smile. “You’re under my care for the time being, and I say you need some fresh air, and perhaps a magic lesson or two.”

  My skin tingled. A magic lesson? From someone so powerful? The idea of it excited me to the core. But what right did I have to enjoy myself when Caroline was out there in danger?

  “Zara?”

  She turned to me, eyes open wide.

  “Is there any way we can help search for Caroline?”

  She offered a sad smile, then shook her head. “I’m sorry,” she said. “That’s the one thing we can’t do.” Her hand lightly stroked my arm. “Don’t worry. My mother’s helping in the search. She brought her very best trackers. They’ll find her.”

  Frustration and hope both welled up inside of me. If her mother was one of the top women in the entire Order of Shadows, she had to be extremely powerful. With someone like that helping out, there really was a chance they might find Caroline.

  I just hoped they were able to find her in time.

  It’s Yours, You know

  Zara and I bundled up in our coats and headed outside under the gray sky. I kept glancing over toward Jackson’s house to see if I could catch a glimpse of him, but his motorcycle wasn’t out front. I wondered if Courtney got my note to him or not, and whether he’d had any kind of response.

  “What are you thinking about so intently?” Zara asked. She walked out toward the old garden, and I followed.

  I shook my head. “Nothing in particular,” I said. “Just thinking about a million different things at once.”

  “I do that too, sometimes,” she said. “It’s like I’m trying to solve at least ten different problems all at once.”

  We’d reached the garden by now, and Zara sat down and peered into the waterless fountain. “It used to be really beautiful here,” she said.

  “Have you been here before?”

  “No,” she said. “But I’ve seen it in my mother’s memories.”

  It seemed like every time Zara spoke, she made me think of another question I wanted to ask. I bit my tongue, not wanting to annoy her.

  “She used to come here as a girl.” She looked toward the house. “Everything was so different back then.”

  “It couldn’t have been much worse,” I said. “The whole place is a mess.”

  “It’s yours, you know.”

  She said it so quietly, her words didn’t completely sink in for a good three or four seconds. I slowly turned toward her, my mouth open. “What’s mine?”

  “This house.” She gestured toward Shadowford Mansion. “This sad garden. This land. It’s all yours.”

  I shook my head and laughed. “You’re delusional,” I said. “There’s no way all this is mine. It’s called Shadowford, right? So it belongs to Mrs. Shadowford.”

  “It wasn’t always called that,” she said. “It used to be Brighton Manor. They only changed the name to Shadowford after your mother died.”

  Zara stood and started weaving a path through the withered weeds. I followed close behind, not about to let her drop a bomb like that and just walk away.

  “You realize I was brought here as an orphaned juvenile delinquent, right?” I said, breathless and trembling. “Are you telling me they brought me to my own house and then forced me to follow their rules like I was some degenerate?”

  Zara stopped and placed her hand on a gnarled bush. Color sprang forth as the bare limbs turned into the most beautiful pink hydrangeas. I normally would have been extremely impressed by such an amazing display of magic, but there were more important issues on my mind at the moment.

  “Please, I know this is all old news to you, but this is really important information you just dropped on me,” I said. As I followed her, she turned the graying garden into a gorgeous collection of sunflowers, roses, and lilies.

  She paused and stared at a dying tree at the far end of the lot. “Is that a magnolia?”

  I wanted to scream. Wasn’t she listening to me? Didn’t she understand how important this was to me? But I knew that yelling at her wouldn’t win her over, so instead, I acted interested in what she was saying.

  “Yes,” I said, pretty sure the tree was, in fact, a sorry excuse for a magnolia.

  She turned and squinted her eyes at me, a twinkle of mischief hidden inside her gaze. “If you can heal the magnolia tree and make it bloom, I’ll tell you the story of how Mrs. Shadowford came to own this house.”

  I stared up at the tree and grimaced. How the heck was I supposed to do that?

  “Is it a glamour?” I asked.

  Zara grinned. “No, silly. It’s a growth spell. Sort of like a healing spell, only growth spells work on plants instead of humans.”

  My face reddened. “I don’t know how to do either of those types of spells.”

  “Unbelievable,” she said, clucking her tongue. “What have they been teaching you, then? Besides glamours.”

  I didn’t correct her and tell her that technically, it wasn’t even the Order who taught me how to do a glamour. “Basic things,” I said. “Like lighting a candle or moving objects from one place to another. Oh, and I learned how to create an orb of light.”

  Zara laughed. “Child’s play,” she said. “A future at sixteen should be able to do any number of advanced magics.”

  I shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I’ve only lived here for a couple of months,” I told her. “And they only just told me I was the future Prima earlier this week, so forgive me if I’m still taking baby steps here.”

  “Aww, I’m sorry,” she said, her voice high and flute-like. “I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Here, let me teach you.”

  Zara took my hand and walked me up to the base of the magnolia tree. A withered branch stuck out near my hand and she placed my fingertips on the edge of the wood.

  “Close your eyes,” she said. “Feel the connection to the earth under your feet. Draw your energy from the world around you. Breathe in slowly, then let it out. Create a rhythm for yourself.”


  I did as I was told. With her hand still on top of mine, my entire body buzzed. I felt my feet firmly planted on the ground, but underneath the ground, I could feel that relentless current of nature’s raw energy. I imagined myself sort of plugging into it. I concentrated on taking deep, even breaths.

  Zara leaned close to my ear and whispered, “Now, take that energy and imagine it flowing from your hand like a river. Let it flow through the earth, up through your feet, your legs, your entire body. Then, direct that flow into this branch and let the tree heal itself. Let it bloom as if it were spring and the sun was shining bright on its leaves.”

  In my mind’s eye, I visualized the strong current swimming through my veins and into the tree. “Bloom,” I whispered, telling the tree what to do with the stream.

  The air around me filled with the sweet scent of magnolias. I opened my eyes and gasped at the beauty of the tree with its white buds and deep green leaves. Zara clapped and bounced up and down on her toes.

  “Magnificent,” she said. “Such a natural. It’s a shame they aren’t providing you with better trainers. I really should have my mother talk to someone.”

  “Please, don’t,” I said. “I mean, as much as I want to learn more about magic, I don’t want start any kind of drama or get anyone in trouble.”

  My plea didn’t seem to faze her. “You’re such a strange girl. Why do you care if someone gets in trouble? You should be demanding what is rightfully yours. If you’re to lead this town in a few years, you need to be equipped with the proper magical knowledge. You should be the best witch in the entire town of Peachville. How exactly do you expect to get there without the best trainers?”

  Listening to her talk about leading the town just made me feel ill. I clutched my stomach and walked over to a fallen log to sit down.

  “Are you feeling alright?” she asked. “Was the magic too much for you?”