Moon Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  “No—not another four months.”

  Tucker’s eyes drop to my tablet. “I’ll let you get back to whatever.” He stands, regaining some of his signature ease and coolness. “See you around.”

  My eyes don’t leave his form until he’s out the door. Part of me wants to follow him, to wrap my arms around him, press him to the wall and kiss him the way we used to. But I know I can’t. Not now.

  Not ever if you don’t figure out how to get the information Brody wants, a voice in the back of my head points out. With a sigh, I unlock the tablet’s screen and tap the browser with my latest search results.

  I’m clicking around on a new website when someone takes the vacated seat across from me. When I glance up, a smile touches my lips. I’m ready to tell Tucker I’ll need a bit more time than this, but the words die in my throat.

  It’s not Tucker who sits across from me.

  Brody folds his hands on the table, his posture straight, professional. He’s dressed in a black jacket over a burgundy dress shirt, and I feel almost like I’m at a job interview. Or in the principal’s office.

  I fight against the swell of panic that threatens to claim me. What is he doing here? Is he following me? Suddenly even this public place seems too secluded. “What do you want?” I’m pleased that the words come out level and my voice doesn’t shake.

  He tilts his head, posture relaxing slightly. “Same as you. Just out for a coffee.” He offers a smile, flashing his straight, almost impossibly white teeth. “I’ll say, though, I was pleased to see you’ve got enough spare time on your hands that you can flirt. Must mean I’ll be getting my information soon.”

  I fist my hands to hide the fact my fingers are trembling. “We’re still working on it. It might help if you told me what you want to know.”

  “What, so you can cheat? No way. Bess knows exactly what I want to hear. When you make contact, she’ll give you the information.” He leans forward, like Tucker did just minutes ago. Except this time I want to recoil, to put as much space between me and the man across the table as possible. I fight the instinct, not wanting to show weakness. “You know, I could arrange for that boyfriend of yours to meet a sticky end. Might help you concentrate without any distractions.”

  The panic that’s been threatening since he sat down floods me. I try to swallow around the lump that’s formed in my throat. “Don’t hurt him. I’m working on getting your information. I just need a little more time.”

  “Funny,” he says, his voice low, “that’s the exact excuse you gave Tucker just now.”

  He smiles as I gasp at his use of Tucker’s name. Before I can form a coherent question, demand how he knows—what he knows—he reaches across the table and picks up my coffee cup, taking a sip as he stands. He pulls a face. “A little cold, don’t you think?” As he sets it back down, he steps toward me, standing much closer than he should, invading my personal space. “Don’t waste time, Crystal. I don’t like to wait.”

  I hold my breath until he drops my gaze and pivots, striding toward the door. He’s barely outside before my phone is in my hand. I open the message app and type out a text to Krissa: We need to figure this out NOW.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Krissa

  I’m jittery when I pull up in front of Crystal’s house. We were already planning to meet tonight, but after her run-in with Brody earlier today, I know she’s probably antsier than I am. She’s been texting throughout the day, demanding status reports. I’d have come over earlier, but she insisted I wait until her parents were gone. I get that we couldn’t actually do spells with her folks there, so I’m not sure why she’s being so picky about arrival time.

  Crystal’s green Spark is in the driveway, so it’s obvious she’s here. I wonder if she picked Dana up or if we’ll have to go get her now. Or maybe she’s managing her own ride. Maybe Fox will drop her off.

  A hollow feeling forms in the pit of my stomach at the thought. I’m happy for him—I am. It hasn’t bothered me at all that he and Dana are together. Well, not too much. I thought it was weird to begin with—just the speed with which they got together. One minute he’s longing for a relationship with alternate-me, the next he’s all cozy with Dana. I get that she’s the one who told him the truth about me, that I’m not his Kristyl. I convinced myself his moving on was a good thing. Indeed, in the last four months I haven’t spared much thought for the two of them. But after what Tucker was saying the other day about me crossing Fox’s mind…

  Dammit, Tucker.

  I get out of my car and cross the lawn to Crystal’s porch. For as cloak-and-dagger as she’s being about this meeting, I’d almost prefer it be dark upon my arrival. But April isn’t cooperating and the sky is still streaming with spring sunlight, even though it’s after dinner.

  Crystal’s got the door open before I can even knock. Dana lurks behind her and relief sweeps through me. Fox won’t be showing up anytime soon. One complication shelved—for the moment, at least.

  “Get in here,” Crystal snaps. “What took you so long?”

  I raise an eyebrow. The decorative analog clock on the wall almost directly ahead of me indicates I’m right on time, but I don’t bother pointing it out.

  Dana catches my gaze and rolls her eyes. “Ignore her. She’s in a mood.”

  This might be the first unsolicited thing Dana’s said to me in months. I offer a conspiratorial smile. This is progress.

  Crystal stalks down the hallway, beckoning for us to follow. When I enter the bedroom behind Dana, Crystal is already sitting cross-legged on her bed. Dana takes the chair in front of the desk, so I sit on the chair Crystal clearly dragged in from the dining room.

  I don’t bother with small talk. I shrug the drawstring backpack from my shoulders and open it, removing the Barnette grimoire and a notebook I’ve been jotting things down in. “I think I know what went wrong with the spell the other day. I opened myself up because I couldn’t connect with Bess. That’s when things went crazy. But I think the reason I couldn’t connect has nothing to do with not being open enough. I think what I was missing is a personal connection to her.”

  “What does that matter?” Crystal asks. “The spell doesn’t say the psychic needs to have a personal connection—”

  “But it does describe having a loved one present,” I say. “When I first read it, I figured it was because that was the person who would want to talk to the spirit. But the more I thought about it, the more I figured it’d be kind of obvious for that person to be there, so why mention it? Unless it’s a key component to the spell.”

  “Well, we don’t exactly have a loved one handy,” Crystal says. “Unless you want to connect with Seth first and have him help find her. Something tells me that’ll end badly.”

  Irritation flares and I do my best to tamp it down. She’s being difficult, but I don’t think she’s doing it on purpose. I can’t say I wouldn’t be acting the same way if some dude from a cult searching for eternal life took time out of his day to harass me. “I don’t think it has to be a loved one.”

  “I’m confused,” Dana says. “Isn’t that just what you said the spell needs?”

  “I think what’s required is a personal connection. And there’s no one connected to Bess like Crystal.”

  “Yeah, we know,” Crystal grumbles. “I was possessed.”

  “But you’re also a distant relative,” I remind her.

  Dana’s face scrunches in concentration. “I still don’t get it. Crystal was part of the spell last time. If your theory’s right, you should’ve been able to connect because Crystal was there.”

  I sigh. I didn’t think I’d have to explain this much. “But I was the one trying to find Bess last time. I was connected to the two of you for more energy. I wasn’t letting Crystal help me find Bess—not specifically. I think we should try again, but this time I’ll let Crystal kind of lead the search.”

  Crystal rubs her hands together. “All right. Let’s do it.”

  I hand o
ut the same kind of charms to Crystal and Dana as they used last time—except these are bigger. I’ve filled the bags with more herbs and crystals and I’ve spent every spare moment in the last few days charging them. I even asked Tucker and Griffin to help. They both rolled their eyes at my reluctance to tell them what they were for but helped anyway.

  This time when I cast the spell, I tap into Crystal’s mind. I’ve already instructed her to conjure anything she can related to Bess, and her head is spinning with fuzzy memories and sensations. I do my best to guide her consciousness forward, to let it lead, when my psyche arrives in the blinding white place. But no matter what I try, the results are no better than they were the first time, and I refuse to open myself up again, fearing what happened last time will repeat.

  When I finally end the spell, disappointment is etched on Crystal’s face.

  Dana helps me tie my bracelet back into place. “We’ll figure it out,” she assures Crystal.

  “Yeah, right.” Crystal doesn’t sound convinced. She checks the time on her phone. “You guys need to get out of here. My parents said they’d be out until ten, but you never know with them.” She scoots off the bed and strides toward the door, but I block her progress, forcing her to look at me.

  “We will figure this out,” I say. “This spell didn’t work. That’s fine. I’ll find another.”

  A hard look sets in her features, and her lip curls like she wants to tell me off, but before she can her face falls. “Thanks, Krissa.”

  I want to spend more time reassuring her, but I can tell by the way she’s ushering us toward the door it would be bad for her if her parents came home before we left. As I climb in my car to drive home, I know one thing for sure: I’m going to do anything to keep my promise to her. I thought for sure this plan had a chance, but since it didn’t work, I’ll find another way.

  I have to.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Crystal

  It’s already been a rough morning.

  My parents and I met up with David Cole for breakfast to celebrate his birthday. David Cole, a man that five months ago I’d never laid eyes on, but who in this reality was married to my aunt Crystal. Since in my reality my aunt died nearly twenty years ago, and in this one she died soon after I found myself here, I never really got to know her husband. That means I had to spend the last hour and a half pretending to recall memories of birthday parties spent with my uncle David and my aunt Crystal—events that never happened for me. It’s been exhausting.

  The only benefit of the morning has been the fact that both my parents have been too preoccupied to bother me much about my grades. Mom caught me with my tablet yesterday so now I’m in trouble for lying as well as for flunking half my classes. But not a word about either of those things has been uttered since we pulled into the restaurant parking lot. David Cole is still adjusting to life without his wife, and my parents seemed determined to make this a light, happy occasion. Even now, on the car ride home, neither my mom nor dad has spoken a word directly to me. They’re both up in the front, talking in low voices about how David looks and speculating about how much he’s eating.

  I’m itching to get back home, even though I don’t know how much progress I can make. Now that my access to the internet is basically cut off, I’m not sure how I’m going to find time to research ways to contact Bess, let alone figure out how to get my abilities back. Maybe I could convince my mom that I have some research to do at the library. I’m not sure she’d buy it, but it might be worth a try.

  I stare out the window as different scenarios play in my head. I recognize exactly where we are—just blocks from home. After our right at this intersection, it’s a straight shot to our street. Dad complains because he always seems to catch a red light, so it surprises me when he accelerates as he approaches.

  “What the…?” he murmurs.

  Mom tenses. “Honey, slow down—”

  I glance through the windshield. The light is red, as usual, but our car is picking up speed.

  “I can’t get the car to stop.” Dad’s voice is tight with panic. I hear a soft thunk, thunk, thunk as he repeatedly slams on the brakes.

  We’re ten yards away. Five yards. We’re going to blow through the light. I scan the cross street for oncoming traffic. There’s a big four-door truck about to pass through the intersection.

  We’re going to crash.

  I brace myself with one hand against the back of my mother’s seat and the other gripping the door handle. I squeeze my eyes shut, preparing for the impact.

  A horn blares and breaks screech, but there’s no collision. Although my eyes are closed, I can feel the movement of our car as dad maneuvers away from the danger. A jolt bumps my body, but the force is not that of a crash. When I open my eyes, I find we’ve jumped the curb on the other side of the intersection. The car is finally at a standstill.

  “Is everyone all right?” Dad asks.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” Mom says, her voice shaky. “Crystal?”

  It takes a moment before I can speak. “I’m okay.”

  Dad runs a hand through his hair as he blows out a breath. “I don’t know what happened. The car just wouldn’t stop. It was speeding up.”

  “You’re not planning on driving home, are you?” Mom asks.

  Dad shakes his head. “I need to call a tow truck. Clearly there’s something very wrong.”

  I replay the scene in my head. No joke something went wrong. It would be one thing if the car just wouldn’t stop. That could be blamed on faulty brakes. But the car was speeding up. What on earth could cause that?

  Eyes prickle the back of my neck. I’m being watched. As Dad pulls out his cell phone and calls for a tow, I scan the vicinity. My heart begins thudding in my chest. Standing on the corner opposite the one we jumped is Brody. Beside him is a man I don’t recognize, but just the sight of him is enough to make me tremble. It’s not that he looks frightening in a classic way or anything, but something about him radiates danger. His dark brown hair is long and brushes his shoulders. It’s stringy, like he hasn’t washed it in a few days. That, plus his scrubby mustache and chin hair and the oversized layers of clothing he wears, gives him an unkempt appearance.

  I know even before Brody jerks his head to the side that he wants me to go to him. Doing my best to swallow around the lump in my throat, I reach my trembling fingers toward the door handle. “Um, I need to stretch my legs. I can’t stay in this car right now.”

  Dad waves a vague hand as he talks with the tow truck driver. Mom calls, “Stay close,” as I open the door and climb out.

  Brody and his companion have disappeared just beyond the corner. I make my way in that direction, doing my best not to rush, just in case my mom is watching.

  Brody’s lips curls into a smile when I catch up. “So nice of you to join us.”

  “If you wanted to talk with me, there are easier ways.” I’m pleased that my voice sounds stronger than I feel.

  The smile on Brody’s face doesn’t fade. “I’d say the time for talking has long passed. I told you what I want, and yet you still haven’t delivered the information to me. I’m beginning to think you don’t believe I’m serious. My friend and I are here to show you how very wrong you are.”

  Now that I’m closer, I take another look at Brody’s companion. He looks young, in his mid-twenties like Brody, but he gives off the vibe of someone who’s seen a lot—none of it good. There’s an iciness in his eyes that makes me shiver. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  For the first time, the smile slips from Brody’s lips. “Either your best isn’t good enough, or you need proper motivation. I thought when we spoke at the coffeehouse you understood just how far I’m willing to go, but apparently an object lesson is in order.” He nods toward the man beside him. “I had Kai use some restraint with your parents just now. Consider this a warning. Next time, your mom and dad might not be so lucky.”

  I fight to suppress a shiver. They were behind the accident. Of course
they were. There’s nothing wrong with my dad’s car—this man, Kai, made it behave that way. “I’ll get you what you want. Don’t hurt my family.”

  “That is entirely up to you,” Brody says. “I want to be very clear: I will kill everyone you love if you continue to hold out on me. And if I still don’t get what I want, I’ll kill you too.”

  Kai straightens beside him, and Brody inclines his head kindly. “Apologies. Kai will be the one doing the killing.”

  At this correction, Kai’s posture relaxes, as if he’s pleased it’s clear who will be doing the dirty work. I wonder if he’s able to speak, or if he’s just used to Brody doing the talking.

  “You don’t need to kill anyone, and I don’t need any more object lessons. You just have to trust me when I say I’m doing everything I can to get you what you want.”

  Brody folds his arms across his chest. “That’s just it. I don’t trust you.”

  Before I can mount a defense, he turns and starts up the street, away from me. Kai offers a leer—a promise of nasty things to come—before following behind.

  However bad I thought things were, they’ve just gotten worse.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Krissa

  “Heads or tails?” Jodi calls from behind the register.

  I glance up from the bundles of herbs I’m restocking. My aunt holds a shiny quarter between her thumb and forefinger. If she’s explained what we’re flipping for, I wasn’t paying attention. I’m finding it increasingly difficult to keep my mind from drifting when I’m at work. Every time my hand passes over an herb or crystal—heck, even the homeopathic supplements—my head starts spinning with possible applications for the items. And there’s the fact that I’ve gotten two texts from Crystal since my shift started, each basically telling me I need to figure out how to contact Bess ASAP.