The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection

by L. J. Smith

  “I knew you could do it,” Faye said in her husky voice as Cassie, still on her knees, spun around to look. “I had complete faith in you, Cassie. And now my faith is justified.”

  “How did you know?” Cassie was on her feet. “How did you know where I was?”

  Faye smiled. “I told you I have friends who see a lot. One of them just brought me the news.”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Cassie said, forcibly calming herself. “You can’t have it, Faye.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. I do have it. I’m stronger than you are, Cassie,” Faye said. And as she stood there on a little dune above Cassie, tall and stunning in black pants and a loose-knit scarlet top, Cassie knew it was true. “I’m taking the skull now. You can run to Diana if you want, but you’ll be too late.”

  Cassie stared at her a long minute, breathing quickly. Then she said, “No. I’m coming with you.”

  “What?”

  “I’m coming with you.” In contrast to Faye, Cassie was small. And she was dirty and disheveled, with sand in every crease of her clothes and under her fingernails, but she was relentless. “You said you only wanted the skull to ‘look at it for a while.’ That was the reason I agreed to get it for you. Well, now I’ve found it, but I’m not going to leave you alone with it. I’m going with you. I want to watch.”

  Faye’s black eyebrows, curved like a raven’s wings, lifted higher. “So voyeurism’s your idea of fun.”

  “No, it’s yours—or your friends’, rather,” Cassie said.

  Faye chuckled. “You’re not such a spineless mouse after all, are you?” she said. “All right; come. You might find it’s more fun to join in than to watch, anyway.”

  Faye shut the bedroom door behind Cassie. Then she went and took something out of the closet. It was a comforter, not rose-patterned like the one on the bed, but red satin.

  “My spare,” Faye said, with an arch smile. “For special occasions.” She shook it out over the bed, then went around the room lighting candles that gave off pungent, heady scents. Then she opened a velvet-lined box.

  Cassie stared. Inside was a jumble of loose stones, some polished, some uncut. They were dark green and amethyst, black, sulfur-yellow, pale pink and cloudy orange.

  “Find the red ones,” Faye said.

  Cassie’s fingers were itching to get into them anyway. She began to sort through the rainbow clutter.

  “Those garnets are good,” Faye said, approving some burgundy-colored stones. “And carnelians, too, if they’re not too orange. Now let me see: fire opal for passion, red jasper for stability. And one black onyx for surrendering to your shadow self.” She smiled strangely at Cassie, who stiffened.

  Undisturbed, Faye arranged the stones in a circle on the comforter. Then she turned off the lamp and the room was lit only by the candles.

  “Now,” Faye said, “for our guest.”

  Cassie thought that was an odd way to put it, and there was a sinking in her stomach as Faye opened the backpack. She’d promised herself that she would keep Faye from doing anything too terrible with the skull—but how?

  “Just what are you planning to do with it?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  “Just scrying,” murmured Faye, but she wasn’t paying much attention to Cassie. She was gazing down as she slowly peeled the wet, sandy white cloth away to reveal the glittering dome of the crystal skull. As Cassie watched, Faye lifted the skull up to eye level, cradling it in red-tipped fingers. Reflections of the candle flames danced in the depths of the crystal.

  “Ah,” said Faye. “Hello there.” She was gazing into the empty eyesockets as if looking at a lover. She bent forward and lightly kissed the grinning quartz teeth.

  Then she put the skull in the center of the ring of gems.

  Cassie swallowed. The sinking feeling was getting worse and worse; she felt sicker and sicker. “Faye, shouldn’t you have a ring of candles, too? What if—”

  “Don’t be silly. Nothing’s going to happen. I just want to see what this fellow’s all about,” Faye murmured.

  Cassie didn’t believe it.

  “Faye . . .” She was starting to panic. This was a bad idea, this had always been a bad idea. She wasn’t strong enough to stop Faye from anything. She didn’t even know what Faye was doing.

  “Faye, don’t you need to prepare—”

  “Be quiet,” Faye said sharply. She was hovering over the skull, gazing down into it, half reclining on the bed.

  It was all happening too fast. And it wasn’t safe. Cassie felt sure of that now. She could feel a darkness welling up inside the skull.

  “Faye, what are you doing with it?”

  More darkness, rising up like the sea. How could Faye be this powerful, to raise it from the skull so quickly? And all by herself, without a coven to back her up?

  The star ruby at Faye’s throat winked, and for the first time Cassie noticed matching gems on Faye’s fingers. All these red stones—to heighten the energy of the ritual? To enhance the power of the witch—or the skull?

  “Faye!”

  “Shut up!” said Faye. She leaned farther over the skull, lips parted, her breath coming quickly. Cassie could almost see the darkness in the skull, swirling, rising like smoke.

  Don’t look at it! Don’t give it any more power! the voice in her head cried. Cassie stared instead at Faye, urgently.

  “Faye, whatever you’re doing—it’s not what you think! It’s not safe!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  Swirling, rising, higher and higher. The darkness had been thin and transparent at first, but now it was thick and oily. Cassie wouldn’t look at it, but she could feel it. It was almost at the top of the skull, uncoiling, wheeling.

  “Faye, look out!”

  The black-haired girl was directly over the skull, directly in the way of the rising dark. Cassie grabbed her, pulling at her.

  But Faye was strong. Snarling something incoherent, she tried to shake Cassie off. Cassie threw one glance at the skull. It seemed to be grinning wildly at her, the smoke corkscrewing inside it.

  “Faye,” she screamed, and wrenched at the other girl’s shoulders.

  They both fell backward. At the same instant, out of the corner of her eye, Cassie saw the darkness break free.

  Chapter 5

  “You stupid outsider,” Faye screeched, twisting away from Cassie. “It was just getting started—now you’ve ruined everything!”

  Cassie lay on her back, gasping. Then she pointed shakily, sitting up.

  “That’s what I ruined,” she said, her voice soft from lack of breath, and from fear. Faye looked up at the ceiling, at the dark, charred circle on the white plaster.

  “It was coming right at you,” Cassie said, too unnerved to yell, or even to be angry. “Didn’t you see it?”

  Faye just looked at her, black lashes heavy over speculative golden eyes. Then she looked at the skull.

  Cassie leaned over and covered the skull with the cloth.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m taking it back,” Cassie said, still breathless. “Diana was right. I was right, if I’d listened to myself. It’s too dangerous to handle.”

  She expected Faye to explode, possibly even to fight her. But Faye looked up at the stain on the ceiling and said musingly, “I think it’s just a matter of more protection. If we could capture that energy—channel it . . .”

  “You’re crazy,” Cassie told her bluntly. “And,” she added, “our deal is finished. I did what you asked: I brought you the skull. You used it and you almost got killed. So now it’s over.”

  Faye’s lazy expression disappeared. “Oh, no, Cassie,” she said. The hint of a smile curved her lips, but her eyes were predatory. Ruthless. “It’s only starting. Don’t you see?” She began to laugh. “You’re more my captive now than ever. It’s not just Adam anymore—now I can tell Diana about this. How do you think the Princess of Purity is going to feel when she finds out her ‘little sister�
�� stole the skull? And then brought it to me to use?” Faye laughed harder, seeming delighted. “Oh, Cassie, you should see your face.”

  Cassie felt as if she were smothering. What Faye said was true. If Diana found out that Cassie had dug up the skull—that Cassie had lied to her—that the whole story last Sunday about being too scared to go home had been a trick . . .

  Just as it had the last time she’d stood in this room, Cassie felt her spirit, her will, draining away. She was more trapped than ever. She was lost.

  “You take the skull back now,” Faye said, as if it had been entirely her idea. “And later—well, I’ll think of something else I want from you. In the meanwhile, you just keep yourself available.”

  I hate you, Cassie thought with impotent rage. But Faye was ignoring Cassie completely, bending to pick up the bristling kittens, one gray and one orange, which had crawled out from under the dust ruffle. The vampire kittens, Cassie remembered distractedly—the ones with a taste for human blood. Apparently even they hadn’t liked this business with the skull.

  “What about that?” Cassie said, pointing at the dark stain on Faye’s ceiling. “Don’t you feel at all responsible about letting it loose? It could be out killing somebody—”

  “I doubt it,” Faye said, and shrugged negligently. “But we’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose.” She stroked the orange kitten and its fur began to lie flat again.

  Cassie could only stare at her, tears rising to her eyes. She’d thought she could control Faye, but she’d been wrong. And right now the new dark energy could be doing anything, and she was helpless to stop it.

  You could tell Diana, an inner voice, the core voice, whispered, but Cassie didn’t even pretend to listen. She could never tell Diana now; that chance was over. Things had gone far too far with Faye.

  “Cassie, are you nervous about something?” Laurel had paused with the white-handled knife in her hand.

  “Me? No. Why?” Cassie said, feeling every moment as if she might jump out of her skin.

  “You just seem kind of jittery.” Laurel gently snicked the knife through the base of the small witch-hazel bush. “Now, this won’t hurt a bit . . . you’ve got plenty of roots down there to grow back from . . .” she murmured soothingly. “It’s not about Homecoming, is it?” she asked, looking up again.

  “No, no,” Cassie said. She hadn’t even thought about Homecoming this week. She couldn’t think about anything except the dark energy. Each day she expected to hear about some new disaster.

  But today was Thursday, and nothing had happened yet. No avalanches, no bodies found, nobody even missing. Oh, if only she could let herself believe that nothing would happen. The energy she and Faye had released had been small—she felt sure of that now—and maybe it had just evaporated. Cassie felt a delicious peace steal through her at the thought.

  Laurel had moved over to a clump of thyme. “It’s not too late to change your mind about coming,” she said. “And I wish you would. Dancing is very witchy—and it’s Nature. It’s like one of our incantations:

  “Man to woman, woman to man,

  Ever since the world began.

  Heart to heart, and hand to hand,

  Ever since the world began.”

  She added, looking up at Cassie thoughtfully, “Wasn’t there some guy you met over the summer that you were interested in? We could do a spell to pull him here—”

  “No!” said Cassie. “I mean, I really don’t want to go to Homecoming, Laurel. I just—I wouldn’t be comfortable.”

  “Thank you,” Laurel said. For an instant Cassie thought it was addressed to her, but Laurel was now talking to the thyme. “I’m sorry I needed part of the root, too, but I brought this to help you grow back,” she went on, tucking a pink crystal into the soil. “That reminds me, have you found your working crystal yet?” she said to Cassie.

  “No,” Cassie said. She thought of the jumble of crystals in Faye’s box. She’d liked handling them, but none of them had stood out as hers, as the one she needed as a witch.

  “Don’t worry, you will,” Laurel assured her. “It’ll just turn up one day, and you’ll know.” She stood up with the thyme plant in her hand. “All right, let’s go inside and I’ll show you how to make an infusion. Nobody should fool around with herbs unless they know exactly what they’re doing. And if you change your mind about Homecoming, thyme soup helps overcome shyness.”

  Cassie cast a look around the great wide world, as she always did now, checking for the dark energy, then she followed Laurel.

  The next day, in American history class, Diana sneezed.

  Ms. Lanning stopped talking and said, “Bless you” absently. Cassie scarcely noticed it at the time. But then, at the end of class, Diana sneezed again, and kept sneezing. Cassie looked at her. Diana’s eyes were pink and watery. Her nose was getting pink, too, as she rubbed it with a Kleenex.

  That night, instead of going to the Homecoming game, Diana stayed at home in bed. Cassie, who knew nothing about football and was only yelling when everybody else yelled, worried about her in some back corner of her mind. It couldn’t have anything to do with the dark energy, could it?

  “Applaud,” Laurel said, nudging her. “For the Homecoming Queen. Sally really looks almost pretty, doesn’t she?”

  “I guess,” Cassie said, applauding mechanically. “Laurel, how come one of us isn’t Homecoming Queen? Instead of an outsider?”

  “Diana didn’t want to be,” Laurel said succinctly. “And Deb and the others think it’s too goody-goody. But from the way Jeffrey Lovejoy’s looking at Sally, I’d say Faye made a mistake. She told Jeff to come to the dance with her, but he’d already asked Sally and he’s a fighter. It’ll be interesting to see who gets him.”

  “You can tell me all about it,” Cassie said. “I saw the last fight between Faye and Sally; this one I can miss.”

  But it didn’t turn out that way.

  Cassie was in the herb garden when the phone call came. She had to go through the kitchen and into the new wing of the house to get to the telephone.

  “Hello, Cassie?” The voice was so muted and stuffed-up it was almost unrecognizable. “It’s Diana.”

  Fear crinkled up Cassie’s backbone. The dark energy . . . “Oh, Diana, are you all right?”

  There was a burst of muffled laughter. “Don’t panic. I’m not dying. It’s just a bad cold.”

  “You sound awful.”

  “I know. I’m completely miserable, and I can’t go to the dance tonight, and I called to ask you a favor.”

  Cassie froze with a sudden intuition. Her mouth opened, and then shut again silently. But Diana was going on.

  “Jeffrey called Faye to tell her he’s going with Sally after all, and Faye is livid. So when she heard I was sick, she called to say she would go with Adam, because she knew I would want him to go even if I couldn’t. And I do; I don’t want him to miss it just because of me. So I told her she couldn’t because I’d already asked you to go with him.”

  “Why?” Cassie blurted, and then thought, Ask a stupid question . . .

  “Because Faye is on the prowl,” Diana said patiently. “And she likes Adam, and the mood she’s in tonight, she’ll try anything. That’s the one thing I couldn’t stand, Cassie, for her to get her hands on Adam. I just couldn’t.”

  Cassie looked around for something to sit down on.

  “But Diana . . . I don’t even have a dress. I’m all muddy. . . .”

  “You can go over to Suzan’s. All the other girls are there. They’ll take care of you.”

  “But . . .” Cassie shut her eyes. “Diana, you just don’t understand. I can’t. I—”

  “Oh, Cassie, I know it’s a lot to ask. But I don’t know who else to turn to. And if Faye goes after Adam . . .”

  It was the first time Cassie had ever heard such a forlorn note in Diana’s voice. She sounded on the verge of tears. Cassie pressed a hand to her forehead. “Okay. Okay, I’ll do it. But—”

  “Th
ank you, Cassie! Now go right to Suzan’s—I’ve talked with her and Laurel and Melanie. They’ll fix you up. I’m going to call Adam and tell him.”

  And that, Cassie thought helplessly, was one conversation she thought she could miss too.

  Maybe Adam would get them out of it somehow, she thought as she drove the Rabbit up Suzan’s driveway. But she doubted it. When Diana made her mind up about something, she was immovable.

  Suzan’s house had columns. Cassie’s mother said it was bad Greek Revival, but Cassie secretly thought it was impressive. The inside was imposing too, and Suzan’s bedroom was in a class by itself.

  It was all the colors of the sea: sand, shell, pearl, periwinkle. The headboard on Suzan’s bed was shaped like a giant scalloped shell. But what caught Cassie’s eye were the mirrors—she’d never seen so many mirrors in one place.

  “Cassie!” Laurel burst in just behind her, making Cassie turn in surprise. “I’ve got it!” Laurel announced triumphantly to the other girls, holding up a plastic-draped hanger. Inside Cassie glimpsed some pale, gleaming material.

  “It’s a dress Granny Quincey got me this summer—but I haven’t worn it and I never will. It’s not my style, but it’ll be perfect on you, Cassie.”

  “Oh, God,” was all Cassie could think of to say. She’d changed her mind; she couldn’t do this after all. “Laurel—thanks—but I might ruin it . . .”

  “Don’t let her talk,” Melanie ordered from the other side of the room. “Stick her in a bath; she needs one.”

  “That way,” Suzan said, gesturing with splayed fingers. “I can’t do anything until my nails are dry, but all the stuff’s in there.”

  “Beauty bath mix,” Laurel gloated, examining the assortment of bottles on the gilt shelves in Suzan’s bathroom. There were all kinds of bottles, some with wide necks and some with long narrow necks, green and deep glowing blue. “Here, this is great: thyme, mint, rosemary, and lavender. It smells wonderful, and it’s tranquilizing, too.” She scattered bright-colored dried flowers in the steaming water. “Now get in and scrub. Oh, this is good,” she went on, sniffing at another bottle. “Chamomile hair rinse—it brightens hair, brings out the highlights. Use it!”