The North Valley Grimoire
Page 34
When the substitute popped the cap on his dry-erase marker and began jotting his name on the whiteboard, Calista made her move. A flick of her wrist sent a fold of paper sailing across the aisle, spinning to a stop on Kaz’s desk.
Using his book as a shield, he unfurled the note. WHERE’S WHITNEY? was printed in giant block letters. IS THE PRINCESS OF NORTH VALLEY TAKING A SPA DAY?
The teacher cleared his throat so loudly that it quieted the room. “Mister Hayashi, is it? Are you reading notes in my class?”
Calista held her breath and waited for Kaz to wilt: face reddened, eyes down, barraged by chuckles from the rest of the students.
He straightened his posture. “It’s the last day of school,” Kaz said. “What are you gonna do, expel me?”
The teacher looked shell-shocked that a student had dared to talk back, but Kaz continued to stare him down, awaiting his response. It was unnerving. She half-expected to hear the collective thud of a dozen jaws hitting their desks.
“Excellent point,” the substitute finally said. He assumed his seat, kicked his heels up on the desk, and retrieved a newspaper from his bag, snapping it wide. “Chat amongst yourselves,” he said from behind the paper. “But keep it to a dull roar.”
An hour later Calista found herself crossing the sun-drenched courtyard next to Kaz. The flagstone walkway led them past the gardens and out through the towering wrought-iron gates; the majestic gold ‘H’ and ‘A’ inlaid in the rails glittered under the midday sun.
“We did it,” Kaz announced, but not until the moment their feet hit the sidewalk. In his estimation, it wasn’t official until they’d stepped off Hawthorne’s property and into the real world.
“Indeed we did,” Calista replied grandly. “No more math tutors, no more extracurricular activities. What are you going to do with the rest of your day?”
Kaz looked genuinely surprised, possibly realizing his schedule was clear for the first time since he was in diapers. “Anything I want, I suppose.”
A smile dimpled her cheeks. “Ooh, sounds scary.”
He hooked her arm and they turned their backs on Hawthorne. “Sounds like an adventure.”
Epilogue
A BUMPY ROAD twisted up North Valley’s escarpment and led to an unpaved lot. During daylight hours people parked at the bluff and hiked through the wilderness. Those who arrived after sunset usually just parked.
On a clear evening, the vista twinkled with a constellation of lights clustered in the tree-lined basin below; it was a drive-in movie theater without a screen, and the show never disappointed. Though Whitney was fairly certain that when Maddox drove her to the bluff at midnight, he was interested in a lot more than the view.
He was insatiable, practically rabid. Tender nibbles at the nape of her neck became violent, nearly piercing her skin.
Whitney clapped her hands into his temples. “Enough, you freak! Tomorrow is the last day of school, and I’m not showing up with a hickie. What are you, twelve?”
“I’m just playing, baby.” He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, concealing a mischievous smile. In recent weeks he’d been ‘just playing’ a lot; his temper had boiled over more than once, and her concern was steadily growing. Sure, Maddox was a terror on the gridiron, but he’d always been delicate with her, regarding her like a porcelain doll that would shatter without proper care. Now he was erratic, unpredictable. The switch he flipped between real life and the football field was on the fritz.
“Playtime is over.” Whitney reached over to grasp the seatbelt. “Take me home.”
Maddox snatched her wrist. “I say when playtime over.” He glared at her, deadly serious.
“Excuse me? Take me home right now, jackass.” She tried to twist her arm free, but his hand was clamped like a vise. Pain blossomed into her palm, and then, curiously, the pain gave way to a tingle. In the muted glow of the dashboard she saw the transformation; her pale skin stiffening, losing its color, fingers freezing solid. The sensation crept up her forearm. It sounded like boots cracking a frost-covered lawn.
She lashed out with her free hand, but he grasped her other wrist.
He’s trying to kill me, she thought. She didn’t know how, but it was happening.
She screamed. A plume of frozen breath escaped her lungs, visible for a split-second in the muggy summer air. Ice water coursed through her veins. She was freezing from the outside in, and the inside out. The moisture in her tear ducts was hardening.
Her heart stopped for a beat. Maybe two. Then a burst of dark fluid spattered her face, warm and coppery on her lips.
The sigil that Jackson had tattooed onto her ribcage—the razor-fanged dragon she’d selected from his grimoire—was now in three dimensions, fuming from its nostrils, chewing a hole through Maddox’s chest. It was all so fast, so bright; gelatinous black droplets had burst from her skin, torn through her dress and birthed the creature, igniting in mid-flight. It left a lightning-strike afterimage on her retinas.
She blinked the blood from her eyes and the flames snuffed out. The dragon disappeared back through the singed hole in her dress, resuming its previous form as an innocuous tattoo. Maddox continued to burn. He gaped at the ragged opening in his chest cavity and doubled over, sagging into the steering wheel. His shoulder wedged against the horn.
Whitney stumbled from the car, took three wobbly steps and fell. The stars spun above her, twirling in opposite directions like hands on a clock gone haywire.
People appeared, mouths moving, faces masked in panic. All she could hear was the bleating horn; a continuous drone splashing her eardrums.
She wondered if this was a nightmare, or possibly a psychotic break. Maybe she was in a coma? Maddox had crashed into a tree on the way to the bluffs, and she was lying in a hospital bed. That’s it. That made perfect sense. If she focused hard enough, this might all go away.
After some untellable amount of time churned by she was hauled to her feet, hands shackled behind her. A hefty woman in blue announced she had the right to remain silent, and had the right to an attorney.
Whitney nodded vaguely. Yes, a lawyer … if this turned out to be real, she was definitely going to need one of those.
According to the incessant ticking clock on the wall, an hour had drifted by, and Whitney’s shock was slowly dissipating. Surely someone had recognized her. Someone must have notified the mayor. Before long she’d be sitting across from a hotshot attorney, and this disaster would be cleared up.
She glanced at the two-way mirror. Her matted auburn tresses stuck to her scalp in bloody clots. Mascara stained her cheeks like rivers of ink, and her lavender sundress hung in tatters. At least the cops had given her a blanket. She clutched the scratchy gray sheet around her shoulders with one trembling hand, and her other was chained to a loop welded to the metal table.
The door sailed open. A dark, well-dressed woman in towering heels and a skirt framed the threshold. She was mid-thirties, tall and sturdy, with calves that could cut glass.
After a quick glance at Whitney, the woman turned and bellowed down the hall. “Are you people crazy? Do you know who this is? Get these cuffs off of Miss Covington this instant, and get her something to drink!” She looked back in the room. “You like soda, sweetie?”
Whitney replied with the tiniest of nods.
The woman turned back towards the hall and barked some additional orders. The cops were suddenly falling all over themselves to be polite and apologetic, un-cuffing their prisoner, serving her an array of snacks and drinks from a nearby vending machine. With everything arranged to her satisfaction, the woman angrily shooed everyone out and slammed the door.
“Damn that was fun.” The well-dressed woman smiled like a kid in a candy store. Her anger vanished like she’d stepped backstage and out of character. “Sorry if I went too far, but this is all so new to me.” She slid into the chair across from Whitney.
“You’re new?”
“Where are my manners? I’m Gabrielle Good. You can
call me GG. Not ‘Gabby’ though. I hate that.” She said ‘hate’ with a sour scrunch of her nose. “I got a call from your dad, so I rushed right over. I’ve never done this before, so pardon me if I miss something.”
“I’m your first client?” Whitney asked. “Like, ever?” She found herself thinking that if she’d lost her mind—which was a distinct possibility—then daddy must have lost his, too. I’m up on murder charges and he sends a noob straight out of law school? Does he want me to get the death penalty?
The nose scrunch returned, this time with an added air of confusion. “Wait, do you think I’m your lawyer?” Gabrielle clapped her hands once, head tilted back, and ripped a thunderous laugh. “No, no, no, I’m not representing you, sweetie. You’re not being charged with anything.”
Whitney stared in rapt silence.
“We know what happened. Your sigil activated.” She motioned to Whitney’s ribs. “You’ve been transmogrified.”
Whitney’s lips parted, but nothing came out.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head,” GG said. “We’re going to take care of this mix-up.”
A tattoo bursting to life and chowing down on her boyfriend’s insides like an all-you-can-eat buffet was a ‘little mix-up’? None of this made sense. Not that anything had in the last hour. “I thought you said my dad sent you?”
“He did. Well, technically he called my boss, Director Malek, and he sent me. Damn, how could I have forgotten that part? Sorry, my mind is all over the place tonight.” She dug through her handbag and extracted a shiny gold badge, clanking it down on the table.
Whitney took the shield and angled it towards the buzzing fluorescent lights. “So what does this FATHER Division do?”
“Let’s get you out of here, sweetie,” Gabrielle said. “We have a lot to talk about.”
The End
(for now)
TheNorthValleyGrimoire.com
BlakeNorthcott.com
Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Prologue
1. Note Ninja
2. Protocols
3. Pipe Bombs & Pom-Poms
4. From the Ashes
5. Imprisoned
6. War Crimes
7. Words for Elves
8. Schism
9. Mendacity
10. Cosmic Guillotine
11. Method to Madness
12. Fool’s Errand
13. Control Room
14. Brush Pass
15. Keeping Friends Close
16. Nonversation
17. Cure for Obsession
18. Game Changer
19. ‘Tis the Season
20. Absence of World
21. Hard Stop
22. Best Laid Plans
23. Glittering Lure
24. Just Desserts
25. Where There’s Smoke
26. Tipping Point
27. Compartmentalizing
28. Greater the Triumph
29. Storm of Fire
30. Bridging Gaps
31. Fortune Favors
Epilogue