Wrong Turn

by Catie Rhodes

Too tired to use our telepathic connection, I spoke aloud. "There’s a body buried up here. Can you find it?"

  The black opal pinged at his presence but went still. The bird flew around the small clearing a few times and perched on a rock at the far edge. I walked to him, black opal heating with every step.

  I stood next to the rock where Orev had perched and gasped. The ground dropped off here, providing a stunning view of the hills and the sunset. The black opal sent a shock of magic into my skin.

  This was the prettiest spot on the overlook, yet we’d steered clear of it. We must have sensed the evil on the lizard level of our brains. I opened myself to Loretta Nell’s spirit in hopes she’d lead me to her grave. Nothing.

  It didn’t surprise me. She seemed most active near the house and barn where she’d met her end. She might not have even realized where Freddy buried her. Some spirits became disassociated with their human shells almost immediately following death.

  Footsteps crunched in the dry grass behind me, signaling Tanner’s approach. He held out one closed hand. I cupped my palm underneath. He dropped the beetle into it.

  The thing wasn’t even an inch long. Made of some metal, perhaps brass, it was crafted down to the finest details. I’d have been willing to believe it was an actual beetle dipped in brass. It gave off age and experience, but was without real magic as Tanner had said.

  I carefully slipped it into my pocket. "Orev says she’s buried somewhere over here. I can’t get a sense of her spirit."

  Tanner snorted, eyes dull with scorn. "Of course not. Nothing’s ever easy."

  We walked, searching for a sunken spot or an area where it seemed the rocks had been removed to dig for a grave. Nothing.

  Caw. Caw. Caw.

  I glanced at Orev, still perched on the rock. He’d want to find somewhere to roost soon. Was he rushing me?

  Caw. Caw. The bird tilted his head one way, then the other. The gist of his thoughts came. Look at me.

  I walked toward him. He looked the same as usual. Deep black feathers, so black they seemed to absorb light. He hopped around on the rock.

  What did he mean? I came closer and took my first close look at the rock. It was a big one with a long flat base and a peak where Orev had perched. I touched the rock. The black opal gave me a sharp enough shock to knock me back. My hand fell away. As it did, my fingers ran over something uneven. I leaned close. There, almost faded by wind and rain, was the shape of a crude flower.

  "Tanner?" I called. "She’s under this rock. Help me move it."

  Tanner hurried over. We stood side to side, put our hands on the rock, and pushed, both of us grunting with effort. The thing didn’t budge. Tanner walked back to his truck and came back swinging a pry bar.

  "Doubt this’ll work." He shoved the flat part of the bar under the rock. I put my hands next to his, and we tried to dislodge the rock. The rock moved, but not enough.

  I let go of the metal and walked a few feet away, panting. "I wonder if just knowing the location’ll be good enough for Mohawk?"

  Tanner put his hands on his hips and shrugged. He wouldn’t outright tell me no. He was too nice for that. Besides, I knew the answer.

  Mohawk wanted me for breeding purposes. He’d twist things any way he could to get his way. It was up to me to outsmart him.

  "Let’s try again." I walked back to the rock. Tanner joined me, but with significantly less enthusiasm than the first time. We pulled and grunted. The rock lifted a little but nothing like we needed for it to get out of our way.

  Priscilla Herrera appeared on the other side of the rock, smiling. “It won’t be so bad when he takes you. You’ll grow used to the situation quickly. Your cowardice will come in handy.”

  "Cowardice?" I quit pulling and rose to my feet. "How could you call me a coward?"

  "You’re too afraid of your natural gifts to use them to move this rock." She did something awful then. She put her hands on her hips, arched her back, and laughed at the sky. It went on and on. Finally she straightened up and settled her dark gaze on me again. "At least you’ll have an heir to pass the mantle to. This one will have more ability than any of us. Of course, it’ll probably also turn into a snake and crawl on its belly from time to time."

  "Why are you so damn hateful?" I clenched my fists. "Can’t you just tell me what to do instead of being an asshole?"

  She smiled. My bravado dropped, and cold fingers crawled up my back. Priscilla Herrera, my third-great-grandmother, rushed at me and slammed into me. The ghost knocked me onto my back. The first blow slammed into my chest and knocked my breath out of me.

  "Wake up." Her scream came from inside my head and all around me. "Each step you take, each decision you make, is you creating your own destiny." She hit me in the chest again, even harder. "Stop walking as a ghost. Live in your life."

  As suddenly as the attack began, it ended. Priscilla was gone. I lay staring up the sky, noting it had turned the color of blueberries cooked into pie filling.

  Tanner dropped to his knees beside me, eyes big, spitting out questions faster than I could process them. "What happened? Was that Loretta Nell? Are you okay?”

  “I’m okay,” I managed between gasps. “That was just a visit from Priscilla Herrera.”

  Tanner, who knew about Priscilla, glanced around, as though she might come do something nasty to him.

  I gripped one of his wrists, closing my fingers over the strong tendons, to get his attention. "I’ll have to use magic to make the rock move. Orev’s going to help me."

  Caw. Caw. Caw. The bird put his whole body into each cry. I’d finally hit on the right answer.

  Tanner pulled me to my feet. "Okay. What do I do?"

  What could he do? The answer came without much effort. Share magic with me.

  Tanner and I were connected. Our souls and our magic had touched. Whether he stayed with me forever or left sometime, the bond was here right now. Not enjoying and living in it was the stupidest, most cowardly thing I could do.

  Priscilla was right. She wasn’t nice, but she always had good advice. My fear of Tanner eventually hurting me had convinced me not to enjoy him as much as I could, to put up a wall so he wouldn’t hurt me. The wall would eventually destroy anything we might have.

  "Why do I keep doing this?" I muttered.

  "Doing what?" Tanner stood a distance away watching me carefully, as though I might sprout horns.

  "Shutting out people, shutting out my magic, shutting out anything that scares me. It’s counterproductive." I tried to laugh. It didn’t work.

  Tanner took a tentative step toward me. "When the most important people in your life shit on you, you end up not trusting yourself."

  I flinched at the nakedness of his assessment. He knew me. That in itself scared me. Stop it, Peri Jean. I shook off the weird, vulnerable feeling and held out my hand to Tanner. "Do you trust me?"

  He closed the distance between us, took my hand, and nodded. "Even though you’re scary."

  "Okay then. We need to combine our power to make that boulder move." I glanced at the horizon. The sun had turned the color of blood. I gave Tanner’s hand a squeeze. "It’s going to hurt. We’ll feel terrible afterward, probably have to eat and sleep to get better."

  Tanner nodded. His breathing deepened. He was already putting himself into the trance state he’d need to access his magic. No questions asked. No fear. He was just going forward.

  An aching, bittersweet emotion I couldn’t quite describe welled in my chest. It hurt and felt good at the same time. It left me wanting, hoping I'd feel it again. This was the man and the ease I'd stumbled around looking for all this time. I kissed his cheek to thank him, even though he'd never understand quite what I felt.

  I lowered my head and closed my eyes, pulling my conscious down deep inside. Sweat popped out over my body with the effort.

  The mantle shone behind the thin layer of the scar tissue spell, blinding brightness escaping through cracks and holes. The spell was damaged, dying, but i
t still held back the majority of my power. I coaxed the mantle out through the cracks of the scar tissue. The pain receptors inside the scar tissue screamed as they stretched. I stiffened against the ache but let it come.

  Wind picked up, drying the sweat on my face. The earth vibrated power beneath my feet. The magic began to work its way up my legs. Tanner’s hand tightened over mine.

  "It’s going to be okay," I murmured, hoping I wasn’t lying.

  I called water, and a light mist came from the sky. Fire came by itself, from within me. It crackled though my veins and hit Tanner hard enough to make him cry out.

  "The book," I said. "Call to it. Make it push the rock away."

  "I can’t." Tanner tried to pull away, but I tightened my grip.

  "I’m going to do it too." Without warning him, I latched onto his power. Unlike my power, which glowed a blinding white, Tanner’s was jewel green like his eyes. It danced like smoke, graceful and dangerous.

  I pushed it out to find the spark of magic Mohawk had instilled in the book. He’d bitten me once with his snake fangs, and I knew his magic when I brushed against it. Dark purple, the magic of the book held no light whatsoever.

  I let Tanner’s and my power brush against the magic of the book. I teased, coaxed, and promised. The book’s magic leapt after me. It would capture me, use me, the most powerful acolyte it had had in centuries. Shaking with effort, I jerked Tanner’s and my magics away before that dark force latched on and claimed us. We escaped with it breathing down the backs of our necks. It grabbed for us one last time.

  I raised my head, hoping the book's greed had moved the rock to get at Tanner and me. The rock raised a little. The book’s darkness seeped out of the crack, searching for what I’d promised. The rock dropped back into place. A howl of rage answered the dull thump of the rock settling back into place.

  Wisps of dark smoke worked their way from under the rock and crept along the ground, searching for us. Wind scattered the smoke.

  The rock vibrated, and a ripping sound issued from beneath it. Tanner’s hand closed around my upper arm, and he yanked me backward. The rock tipped over the same way Tanner and I had nearly given ourselves hernias trying to make it do. It rolled down the hill, picking up momentum as it went. After several dozen yards, it blended with the gray twilight.

  15

  Not quite knowing what to expect, Tanner and I approached Loretta Nell’s final resting place. I turned on my little pocket flashlight, which was almost the same as nothing, and shone it into the dark patch of earth. Pity filled me.

  Loretta Nell’s corpse reminded me of a small animal killed on the road and run over so many times it was flat and unrecognizable.

  I tried to swallow my emotions. "Asshole Freddy didn’t even bury her. He just set that rock over her."

  Tanner hunched his shoulders. "But she was a pretty horrible person."

  She had been, but who deserved this? I got the beetle out of my pocket and cupped it in my palm. The book lay on Loretta Nell’s chest, a little dirty but perfectly recognizable by the lacy silver corner caps winking in the dying light.

  I took a step forward, but hesitated, my cowardice getting the better of me. What was going to happen when I touched this thing?

  Nothing, not if you don’t let it. Priscilla’s voice echoed in my head. It plays on weakness. You may be a coward, but you aren’t weak.

  I steeled myself and reached for the book. The skeleton twitched. I jumped and yelped. The skull, which had a fist-sized hole in it, twisted to face me. The air cooled. Loretta Nell was here.

  Hand quivering, I reached into the grave and pulled the book away from the skeleton. It made a sticky, ripping sound. My fingertips numbed with the evil it held. A clump of dirt fell from it and thumped to the ground.

  Whispers, louder than any ghost I’d ever encountered, hissed in my head, their words chilling and clear as a January night. Nobody can understand you like the god of the serpent can. He wants you to have power, love, and bounty. A sacrifice. Just one. The god of the serpent does the rest.

  The book, oversized and thick, was cumbersome. But I didn’t dare put my other hand on it. If it had this much power with me holding a protective amulet, I hated to think what it would do to the unprotected hand.

  The book’s metal corners cut into the skin of my straining fingers. I adjusted my one-handed grip and regretted it immediately. The leather cover was pliable and warm, like living skin. I didn’t want to know what kind of skin it had been made of. Didn’t even want to think about it. But I did. Sweat rolled down my back and arms.

  The sun winked out at the edge of the horizon, deepening the night. Coyotes howled nearby. Their crazy laughter raised the hair on the back of my neck. I turned to Tanner to tell him it was time to go, but another voice interrupted me.

  "Turn around real slow, Peri Jean. Both you and your man." Dwight’s voice came from behind us.

  Still struggling with the book, I turned around. Dwight Carr stood in the last dregs of ambient light pointing a semi-automatic pistol at us. Josie Stephens stood next to him. She held the sickle. They both wore the same smiles the Messengers had in that creepy picture online.

  Winslow and Adamick had failed to stop them after all.

  I threw my head back and let out a frustrated yell. "You have to be kidding me."

  Dwight would make me give them the book. Of course he would. He had Loretta Nell’s revenge to carry out, and I had just filled in the last puzzle piece for him. Mohawk would be here in mere hours. And I’d be dead or a concubine because of these two stinky, greasy little turds.

  Josie smiled and shrugged. "Nope. No kidding."

  "Bring the book here." Dwight sharpened his voice to sound like a TV bad guy. He failed miserably. He sounded like a constipated elk.

  I made my decision. I’d die here, save myself the humiliation and misery of being taken slave by Mohawk. I hardened my voice, did my best to embody King Tolliver, and said, "Come and take it."

  Tanner swiveled his head to stare at me. "No! Not yet. There’s still hope."

  "No, there’s not," I argued, glaring at Dwight. "I’m not letting go of the book. Kill me and take it."

  I took a few steps toward him so he’d get a good shot. "Do it. And let Tanner go."

  Tanner gaped at me several more seconds. Then his eyes narrowed, and he turned to Dwight. "Kill her, and I’m beating both of you to death."

  Dwight turned the pistol on Tanner, not sure which of us to shoot.

  "Just let it go," I told Tanner. "We had a good run. But you don’t need to die over it. You’ve got a great life ahead of you. I-I—" I turned my face to him and gave into the weakness I’d been trying to stave off for at least a month now. "I love you. These weeks with you have been the best of my life. I’m sorry this is how it ends."

  "It doesn’t end this way," Tanner shouted.

  Dwight shot in the air. "I’m killing you both. Give me the book."

  "Fuck you." I stuck out my chin, pretending my heart wasn’t hammering in my chest.

  Tanner lunged at me, hit me hard enough to knock me to the ground. The air left my lungs in a combination whoosh and cry of pain. He wrestled the book away from me and slung it away from Dwight. Josie ran for it.

  "Why did you do that?" I tried to say. No sound came out of me other than a pained wheeze.

  Tanner grabbed me around the waist, threw me over his shoulder, and took off running. He ran like people in the movies, zigzagging back and forth. Dwight took two shots at us. Both came close enough that I felt the air move. Maybe Tanner didn’t have too bad an idea with the running back and forth.

  Tanner ran past Loretta Nell’s grave and down the hill. He raced along as though he wasn’t carrying a hundred pounds of me slung over his shoulder.

  Dwight shot two more times. This time, the bullets didn’t come close enough for me to feel them.

  "Come on, Dwight." Josie’s shout floated through the quiet night. "Forget them."

  A veh
icle started somewhere nearby, revved, and sped away.

  Tanner kept moving until he had us behind some trees. He dumped me on the ground.

  "You’re heavier than you look. It’s all the fried food y’all eat down here." He flopped down beside me and gasped for air, holding his side.

  "Then quit saying y’all and trying to talk like us if you don’t like it here," I mumbled.

  Tanner chuckled and finished catching his breath. He turned to me. "Did you mean what you said up there?"

  I frowned and shook my head at him. "Heat of the moment."

  "Liar." He tried to lace his fingers between mine, but I jerked away.

  "Why didn’t you let me die up there?" I hissed at Tanner. "Mohawk’s going to come in a few hours. If I don’t have that book, he’s going to take me into custody. Do you know what he’s going to do to me?"

  He let his head fall back and stared up at the starry night. "You’re always putting the cart before the horse. And everything’s so full of doom and gloom. How do you know we can’t get the book back between now and then?"

  I rose to my knees. "Once the power of that book gets in Dwight and Josie, how easy do you think it’s going to be to best them?"

  Tanner held both hands up. "We’ll figure something out."

  I ignored him and crawled to my feet. My ribs hurt where Tanner had hurled me to the ground, and I still smelled him on me. Made me want to kick him. My phone buzzed with a text message.

  It would probably be Hannah or Finn and Dillon saying they were coming to the rescue. Then I’d have to worry about everybody I knew dying in a misguided attempt to help me. I dragged the phone out of my pocket.

  The message was from an unknown number. "Linus Bramwell here. Please call."

  My phone had one bar of service showing. It flickered off and changed to no service. I let out a disgusted snort and started walking.

  Tanner leapt to his feet. "Where’re you going?"

  "To get the book back." I stomped back up the hill, madder than I’d been in a long while.

  Tanner ran past me and stopped at the top of the hill with a sad moan. I hurried to his side. We gaped at his old truck together. It sat on four flat tires. The hood was open, pieces of the engine strewn on the ground.