by Sara Hanover
“More friends than not, now.” I calculated and told him exactly when the two had come over, for the dress try-on. He frowned and I realized that time quite possibly didn’t pass for him as it did for us.
Then he scowled. “I remember now. You have to stay away from her, Tessa!”
His voice thundered in my ears and I drew back a little, thinking that slim, quiet Joanna looked far from dangerous compared to her ninja drivers. I thought a moment before saying, “After what we’ve been through, I think I deserve more than a heated warning. Like some evidence.”
He rippled. The anger had cost him. “I’m in a place of darkness, where the light only reaches a little, and all I can tell you is that the darkness appreciates him. Her. Reaches for them. Don’t let it come for you, too.”
I licked lips suddenly gone dry but the doorbell rang, and blood had gone to my ears making them buzz, and I knew from the sight of him that our conversation had finished, for now.
“All right. I’ve got to go.”
I went and gathered the pizzas and made the delivery boy very happy with his tip.
Everyone else devoured the pizzas as though they were the most important things on earth at the moment, and I guess they must have been. I picked a little at mine and wondered if I should confide in Carter, if he would agree not to share it with the Society. My mom gave me a sideways glance, noticing me playing with my pizza slice, so I rolled and demolished it, deciding that Brian and the others would have to tackle me to keep me silent. Except about the stone. That still seemed to be something we wouldn’t want the Society to know about. They might demand to remove it, and failing that, take the whole hand. I shuddered.
Mom rubbed my shoulder. “You all right, honey?”
“Long couple of days.” I took a deep breath. “Carter, what do you know about ghosts? Or, better yet, people who are neither here nor there.”
He choked on his last bite, coughed heartily a few times, and took a big swig of his tea. “What?”
“The hole in the floor?”
He cleared his throat and nodded.
“There’s a cellar under half the house we didn’t know was there.”
“That is interesting.”
“It is. Because a ghost came with it, and that ghost is my dad.”
He wiped his hands off and sat back, crossing his arms. “I should get CSU out here. Did you find remains of any kind?”
“No. And he says he isn’t dead. Exactly. So there’s nothing to investigate because there’s no evidence, no body.”
“You spoke to him?” The corner of one hazel eye twitched.
“Yes.”
“But you don’t think he’s dead?”
I shook my head. “He seems to be in between, caught. Maybe he can come back, maybe we have to send him on. I don’t know. I’m not asking the Society to help, just you. I think,” and I twisted my fingers together. “I think bringing the Society in might just cause more trouble.”
“You’d be right!” Steptoe insisted. Brian stopped him from saying anything else by putting a hand on his arm, watching me alertly.
“Did he know what happened? Or where? Or who?”
“Not that he said. He’s weak, so it’s not like I can interrogate him for half the day or something.”
That made Carter wince. I added quickly, “Not that I think you work like that.”
A grateful expression flashed across his face so quickly I almost wondered if I’d imagined it. It hit me that he cared what I thought. He unfolded from his chair and dropped his napkin to the table. “Let me go home. Think about it. Do a little discreet studying. I’ll see what I can figure out.”
“Great!” I walked him to the door while behind us I could hear Steptoe angrily muttering to Brian, with Hiram giving off soothing, low tones of placation.
Carter turned on the porch step. I stood just inside and a moment came I didn’t want to resist, so I didn’t. I leaned forward slightly and cupped my right hand along the side of his face. I could feel bristles that needed shaving, and the measured drumbeat of his pulse, and the glow of his skin. His bone structure felt chiseled. His eyes widened. His personal aroma, that scent of pine and leather and something else I couldn’t identify, wrapped around me.
More than that. It wasn’t the proper hand, but the maelstrom stone awoke sharply. It knew him, sensed a deep and dark core buried inside him, and woke something in me to answer. We’d both seen things we shouldn’t have. Knew things beyond mortal knowledge. Could reach for and use power in any, and all, of its forms. We could pull in whatever strength we needed from whatever source, and mold it to our command. Together. Without remorse or hesitation. We could be a force worth reckoning with, a force that could shape our world.
I dropped my hand suddenly, shaken.
“What was that?”
“I—I don’t know.”
“Tessa, what have they done to you?”
“Nothing.” True. I’d done it to myself. I wasn’t lying to him, exactly.
“You don’t get power from nothing.”
“You can’t tell anyone.”
“I can’t do that. Not if anything threatens you.”
He stood, tall as one of the stately alder trees on the boulevard.
Slowly, I turned my left hand over and showed him the maelstrom stone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
HE GRABBED MY HAND. “Which one of them did this to you?” His words sounded heated, leaving me with the distinct feeling he’d kill whoever it was.
“Nobody. I was alone in the basement when it attached.” Hiram had been there, but I didn’t intend to get him in trouble.
“It attached itself? Where did it come from?”
“An old wardrobe that my great-aunt had sitting down there. The cellar’s got trunks and boxes and junk in it, like an old attic. It attacked me. I swear I thought a pit bull or something had grabbed onto me. But it was this. It burrowed in. I can’t get it out. They told me it won’t come out until it’s ready.” I took a quick breath. “That’s how I saw my father, and no one else can, or hear him either. Just me. So whatever it is, and I gather it can go good or bad, it’s got some worth.”
“It’s worth a king’s ransom. The only good thing about it is it just can’t be ripped out of you, not if the one taking it wants it to still be viable, so that protects you a little. But . . .” and his words faded. “It will call him, just as it will the Society. It’s a thing of power that can see into the shadows, and it will reach out to him. You’re not going to be able to keep this hidden for long.”
“I think I guessed that.” My voice went a little shaky, and he cupped my hand in both of his. He had big hands. Not mitts like the Broadstones, but big, strong hands. I liked the feel of them, except my left palm did not. The stone grew nasty hot and I thought I might have to pull away quickly or get horribly burnt, but then it stopped. Slowly, with each heartbeat, it cooled. Was I doing it or was Carter? “Please don’t tell them.”
He closed his eyes a long moment. “I don’t know if I can avoid telling them. What’s wisest? I have to think.”
He squeezed my hands together and let go. “I’m wrecked. I need to go consult some sources and get some sleep. I have to report to the department tomorrow morning, but I’ll come find you later in the day.”
“Oh, yeah. We’re finishing up courses. The auction is next weekend. Then reviewing. Finals. End of semester stuff coming out of my ears. You remember.” Surely he did. Surely there wasn’t that big a gulf between us. Everyone else might think so, but I didn’t and I hoped he didn’t.
“I’d tell you to wear a glove, but—” He eyed my hand. “Conspicuous.”
Thoughts skittered through my mind like an alley cat with a hound dog on its tail. “Wait. I have a wrist brace I can wear, and it wraps around my hand too. Used it when I sprained my hand in
field hockey. Everyone will just think I popped it again.”
“Good idea.” He leaned forward slightly, the line of his jaw softening, and then abruptly stepped back. “Nite, Tessa. You take care.”
“And you.”
We’d had a moment, there. I knew it. Hadn’t we? I had no idea what had pulled him back, but I wanted to call out to him, to make him return and finish.
I watched as he trudged down the street, tiredness in every step, and wished him a good rest even though I figured he’d spend half the night trying to understand what had happened and what could happen. And had he almost kissed me good night? Even if it was aimed for the forehead or my cheek? Had there been more than concern gleaming in his eyes as he talked to me, held my hands? Woah.
My fingers itched to get my phone and text Evelyn.
My common sense warred with that. If she let it slip to either her mom or dad, Carter would be in serious trouble. But I needed to tell someone as it bubbled up inside me, warm and cheery, as though I’d drunk a glass of champagne. Good champagne. I’d had some cheap, awful stuff at a wedding reception last year for one of Mom’s college colleagues that frankly was little better than sucking a lemon. Ugh. But it had definitely bubbled. Or maybe curdled.
This was so superior to anything I could imagine. I rubbed my hands together. How long would it be before he held my hands again? Leaned in again? Maybe would not change his mind next time?
A voice sliced through my dreams. “Assignments, Tessa!”
Oh, yeah. And a lot of them, too. Not to mention digging up that old brace from the corner of my closet. It probably smelled like old shoes and gym socks. I’d have to do something about that or nobody would ever think about coming closer to me.
I closed and locked the door behind me and retreated to my room. Maybe I’d tell Mom. On the other hand, maybe I wouldn’t.
* * *
• • •
Evelyn waited by the quad. She gave a little bounce, her pert skirt flouncing with her. “You’re back. Again.” She either had a new purse that looked like a shopping bag hanging from her arm, or it was a shopping bag.
“Well, yeah. Did you think I’d flake on you? Grab the dress and run?”
“You’ve been a bit odd lately. I thought maybe you’d ditch again today. Three days out of five.” She shrugged and then her nose wrinkled. “That brace is gross.”
“Yes, but I have it on good authority it smells like lilac toilette water. I put enough on, anyway.”
“The stuff you got from one of the old ladies on your route?”
“That would be it.”
With many paper rattles, she pulled her purse out of the bag and shoved the bag at me.
“What’s this?”
“Shoes! I have the perfect silver ones.”
I peered into the depths. Yes, two silver five-inch heels lay on their sides at the bottom of the bag, as if they’d gone to sleep there, nestled like little, sparkly silver reptiles. Definitely not for running anywhere. “Huh.”
“Seriously. Silver will go perfect with your dress.”
“True.” I lifted one of the heels out. “Good god. I can change bulbs on the streetlights wearing these.”
“They’re not that tall!”
“Really?” I put my free hand up to measure. “Yup, five inches. I think the shoemakers stopped at six, didn’t they? With platforms?” I turned the shoe about. “These must hurt.”
Evelyn tossed her head. “It’s not like you have to wear them all day. Anyway, practice in them. Remember to keep your knees straight, don’t walk all crouched down.”
I dropped the shoe back in the bag and deposited all in my backpack. “I’ll try not to let my knuckles drag.”
“That’s my girl!” We walked through the crowded corridors toward class, one of several we shared. “Still excited about Joanna’s girls-only invite?”
“Can’t wait! It’s going to be glorious. Like princesses.”
“With paid escorts.”
She bumped her hip into me. Evelyn is skinny, so her hipbones can be sharp. I grunted an “ow,” but she didn’t apologize. Never had and never would. She is sprung from the stock of “can’t be too rich or too thin.”
“I’ve met one or two. They’re formal but have a sense of humor, and they’re devastatingly quiet.”
“I wonder if they’re Yakuza and have taken vows of criminal silence.” I dodged her hip bump and she laughed as she staggered a bit, trying to recover.
“Mr. Hashimoto is a gentleman. You know he wants to run for state congress in a few years.”
“Really? I thought your dad had that on tap.”
She shook her head, and her dark blonde hair fell in silken, disturbed waves about her shoulders. “No, he’s planning on DC once he’s mayor here a term or two.”
“Wow. I had no idea.”
“It’s in our blood. My uncle was a congressman. Representative for almost twenty years.” She waved her hand. “A while back. He’s a lot older than my dad. Can you imagine my father being the baby of a large family?”
“I have trouble seeing your dad as a baby of any kind.”
She laughed.
I swung into our classroom, catching the closing door with my elbow, and wedging it open with the rest of my body for the two of us, and about a half a dozen others, to enter.
Taking my seat, I thought about lines of power, those born to it and those determined to gain it. I didn’t think either of my parents was ever interested in any of that. Mom’s commitment now was keeping us healthy, fed, educated, and housed. Was that the same? I didn’t know exactly what I saw in the professor or Brian, or Morty and his son, but I recognized the gleam of ambition in Steptoe’s eyes, at constant war with decency. That could have been what made him chaotic. Or not. I didn’t want to think of Carter with that same gleam, but he did have a glimmer, a flame inside him that I thought meant he warred with himself between helping and bringing the Society in on happenings.
I did make some notes, and not a few doodles in my notebook, before class drew to an end.
I ambled to independent computer lab. My brace made it difficult to keyboard and I almost just unlaced it and shoved it to one side, but I didn’t dare. The stone kept making hot little sparks in my palm as if agitated.
Joanna, sitting opposite me, narrowed her eyes. She leaned forward, indicating I should pull my earphones aside, too. “What is going on? You keep jumping as if someone is sticking a pin into you.”
An apt analogy. I shrugged. “Wrist is hurting.”
“I hope you’re better by auction.”
“I should be, you know?”
She flashed her very white teeth. “I can hook you up with my masseuse. She’s terrific.”
“Shiatsu? That sounds wonderful.”
“I’ll give you a text later, see when we can slip you in.”
It would be expensive. I shook my head. “Thanks, but I probably shouldn’t.”
“Why not? It will help!”
I didn’t want to say it, but there it was. “Our budget is pretty tight.”
Joanna wrinkled her nose. “Forget about it! My treat. In fact, I know my father will insist. All you have to do is show up.”
“That’s . . . that’s really nice of you. I’ll check with my mom and let you know, okay?” I didn’t feel like accepting but I could throw that on my mom. She didn’t like living on the kindness of strangers any more than I did. Friendship was one thing. Sympathy quite another.
“Deal!” She gave me a thumbs-up before turning back to her monitor, replacing her earphones and catching up with her lesson.
I returned to my monitor, pausing every now and then to slip an index finger inside the brace to rub my palm where sparks danced, itching and burning like crazy. After a particularly long scratching session, I looked up to see Joann
a glancing away quickly, not to be caught staring.
She seemed like any other normal teen. Yet my father had warned me about her. Why?
I remembered her brief interest in Brian’s journal. Had she had that same ambitious gleam in her eye that flickered in Steptoe? And how would my father know?
* * *
• • •
I caught the bus home, Evelyn having an appointment with the administration over something or other, and the day wrapped around me hot and sweaty. I was busy pfoofing damp curls from my forehead when I spied Carter sitting on the front steps waiting for me.
I wiped my face off as delicately as I could, nearly impossible, and said, “You couldn’t come to campus and pick me up?”
“I’m not a mind reader. Besides, you always hated me showing up with the patrol car.”
“That was before I had to walk in eighty percent humidity.” I pfoofed again. “The guys didn’t let you in?”
“The guys,” and he beckoned to two pickup trucks and one utility truck parked along the street, “are busy.”
“Wow. The work crew is here?”
“You bet.”
I would have blushed but the heat had already set my face glowing. I hadn’t even noticed the various service units; I’d only seen him. “Did you learn anything?”
He looked unhappy. “I’d say that. How about we go inside, find a quiet place—if that’s possible—and talk. Where’s your mother?”
“Office hours.” I checked my phone for the time. “She won’t be home for at least two hours.”
He frowned even more. “I should wait till she’s here.”
“So she can enjoy the bad news, too?”
He shuffled inside behind me, the house instantly growing cooler as the noise level ratcheted up to deafening. Saws, nail guns, pounding, shouting. I would have gone right back out immediately but I needed something cold to drink. Hopefully there was a refrigerated can of soda with my name on it. Plus, my mom would kill me if I didn’t play hostess to the crew, so there was tea to brew and sugar syrup to make. Again. And ice cubes to fetch from the freezer in the garage, which held little in storage these days but ice cubes.
