by KB Anne
Lights flicker against the walls at the top of the stairs. It appears she’s brought her new witchy spell candles with her.
Their thoughts are racing so fast I can’t get a read on either of them. Kensey made Lizzie snap. That much I can tell. It doesn’t surprise me. That psycho whore is the root of all evil, and Lizzie wants to make her pay. She also knows I’m here.
“Hi, Gi, I was hoping you’d stop by,” she says in a relaxed voice that sounds nothing like the best friend I’ve known for most of my life.
When I reach the attic, I am in no way prepared for the sight before me. Kensey’s bound to the floor with a rough chalk pentagram around her surrounded by candles. Her eyes shoot to mine, her terror unmistakable.
“You were?” I ask.
Lizzie kneels over Kensey, flinging handfuls of salt across the floor as she chants. The singular focus of her mind leaves no room for outside interference. I need to proceed with caution, and that worries me. Caution’s not my strong suit—it’s Lizzie’s.
“Sure, I wanted my powerful best friend with me while I take care of the trash.”
“What do you mean by powerful?”
She shakes her fist at me. “Don’t play games, Gigi. It doesn’t suit you. You read minds, project your thoughts. You captivate guys and girls. You cast magic on those around you. You are from the Otherworld.” The eye on her pendant winks at me.
I know at once what her problem is. Gram told me about a woman who couldn’t touch anything once owned by someone else—furniture, jewelry, clothing, houses—because the spirit of the previous owner would appear before her. The spirits never meant her harm until the time she sat on the steamer trunk of a serial killer. From sunset to daybreak he haunted her, harassed her, tried to kill her and add her to his trophies—Freddy Krueger come to life. She wound up in a psychiatric hospital for two years until a priest performed an exorcism on her upon the request of the only person who believed her: a nurse who happened to be Gram’s friend.
Either Lizzie bears the same type of curse, or that necklace is some sort of portal.
“Lizzie, can I wear your necklace?”
She grasps the blinking-eye pendant. “It’s mine. I paid for it.”
“I know, but we share everything.”
“Not this. You can’t have it.”
“Lizzie, I don’t want it. I just want to try it on.” Then smash it with a hammer.
“No. Now, if you don’t mind …” she says and begins chanting.
“What are you trying to do to Kensey?”
She stops to answer me, but she doesn’t take her eyes off Kensey. “I’ve always wondered about the ability to possess someone. I wanted to see if I could do it.”
“Really? Since when?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. In church there are always conversations about the possessed. I figured someone had to be the possessor. Why not me?”
My stomach churns. This day is not turning out anything like I expected. “How did you find my book?”
She snorts. “Gigi, I think we both know it’s not your book. You don’t appreciate it. You don’t use it properly.”
“I hid it. How did you find it?”
She strokes the sides of the pendant. “You’re not that creative in your hiding spots.”
“Why Kensey?” I glance down at her now-still frame. The slight rise and fall of her chest is the only indication that she’s alive. Her eyes were open before. Why are they closed now? Did she pass out from shock? Lizzie must have already begun the spell, or curse, or whatever she’s trying to do.
“We both know why.”
“How’d you get her up here? She was leaving for the doctor’s.”
“She’s very trusting of good church girls,” she says, laughing a terrible, high-pitched shriek I’ve never heard before. “I told her Breas was up here.”
“Can you take her out of the spell?”
“I could, but where’s the fun in that?”
Something is seriously wrong with my best friend.
“Lizzie, let Kensey go, and we’ll find Ryan. Maybe he’ll skip class and hang out with us the rest of the day.”
She drapes herself across the spell book as if lounging on the chaise in her room. “I’m having a lot of fun.”
“Ryan’s more fun. We can plan our camping trip for this weekend.”
She shrugs. “I’m losing interest in Ryan. He’s so good, so handsome—it’s boring. I want someone, I dunno, meatier. Someone like Bre—”
But before she finishes his name, the candles blow out. Never one to miss an opportunity, I snap off her necklace. A charge surges through my hand, but I clench it tight. No way in hell is Lizzie getting a hold of it again. I shove it down my shirt.
The room fills with screams. Lizzie’s, mine, Kensey’s—all of us. A flash of movement. A familiar presence. Then nothing except blackness and our gasping breaths.
Lights flood the space. The brightness temporarily blinding us. “Gigi? Lizzie?”
“Scott?” Lizzie and I whisper staring at each other.
The stairs creak as he climbs up.
“How did I get here?” Lizzie whispers.
“You don’t know?”
“No,” she says, rubbing the side of her head. “Ugh, my head is killing me.” She stops to look around. “Where are we anyway?”
The steps keep getting louder. I’d like to find out how he unlocked the door, but there’s no time for inquisitions. He’ll be here in less than a minute, and I need to get rid of the evidence of Lizzie’s spell work. Scott is understanding about a lot of things, but he won’t let this pass. I reach over to untie Kensey, but here’s the thing … she’s gone. Her bindings, the pentagram, the candles, the spell book. All gone. I jump up, searching the dark corners of the room. No Kensey, no candles, nothing. I race to the other storage areas, my heart pounding in my chest. A person doesn’t just disappear. She’s got to be here somewhere. I drop to my knees in front of Lizzie, resting my hands on her thighs.
“Lizzie, you don’t remember anything?”
“No,” she sighs, her hand returning to her head. “My head’s killing me.”
Scott rushes over to us. “What are you doing here?”
“I can ask you the same thing,” Donahue roars from the bottom of the stairs.
The pendant moves against my skin as if winking.
30
Lies and Misdemeanors
Nothing about what happened in that attic makes sense. Not Lizzie’s behavior. Not the séance. Not Kensey’s disappearance.
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Donahue barks from the other side of his desk, “what were you doing up in the attic?”
“I was looking for them,” Scott says. “I didn’t know where Gigi was.”
“You,” Donahue says, pointing at Lizzie who hasn’t stopped clutching her head. “What were you doing up there with The Delinquent?”
She begins to shake again. She’s barely stopped since Scott and Donahue found us.
“Can she get something for her headache?” I growl.
“After she answers my question.”
Her wide eyes beg me for help. She’s never been in the principal’s office before. She’s never been in trouble before. If I have my way, she never will be again.
“Can’t you see she needs to go home? She’s a mess. She can’t even hold up her head.”
He glances at her and swallows, then crosses his arms over his massive chest. “No. Not until she answers my question.”
What little color returned to her seeps out of her cheeks. My Lizzie is fading away before my very eyes. I can stop it. I can stop all of it.
“Fine,” I snap. I swallow to prepare my throat. “I’ll tell you.”
The pendant vibrates, almost whispering, “Yes, that’s it.”
“I wanted some privacy with Lizzie.” My throat itches from the partial truth.
“Why?” he says.
“I wanted to show her my new tattoo.�
�
He blows out his nose. It’s times like these he reminds me more of a bull than a walrus. “You couldn’t show her your tattoo in the bathroom?”
I can feel Scott and Lizzie’s gaze. They don’t know whether to believe me or not. They want to believe me. That much I know. And I want them to believe me. No one needs to know what really happened in that attic, because to be honest, I’m not even sure myself. I need to sell the lie even if my throat lights on fire. “It’s in a very private area.”
I wait for the burn but it’s not as strong as I thought it would be. I do have a new tattoo—I got it before I went to Metropol last Friday, but it’s below my left breast. A semi-private area depending on the outfit.
Donahue clears his throat. “And a bathroom stall wouldn’t work because …?”
He puts me in a tight spot. Lizzie and Scott know I lie a lot. They even suspect I’ve lied to them on occasion, but they don’t know for sure. I can’t say I’ve never lied to them, but I do my best not to. They’re both trying to figure out if I’m lying to Donahue.
“It’s in a really private area, and the bathroom stall would be too tight. I couldn’t risk anyone coming in and seeing me—” I bring my hand to my chest “—naked.”
Donahue blushes. Lizzie and Scott blush too. They know I got another tattoo, but they don’t know where it is. Only Breas has seen it.
“Principal Donahue, I know that I often get in trouble because I make bad choices, but that’s not Lizzie’s fault. Please don’t call her parents. Call my gram if you must, but please don’t call hers.”
“I really—” he says, but Scott interrupts.
“Principal Donahue, I saw an old mascot uniform in the attic. Any chance we could use it for the pep rally next week?”
Donahue blinks as if a switch was flipped, and I’m pretty sure Scott’s working the controls. He’s always been good at persuading people to do what he wants, but I’ve never witnessed it used with such success. I mean, Donahue was a bloodhound hot on the tracks of the truth, and now he’s completely distracted with the prospect of new mascot outfits.
“I don’t see why not. Let’s go back up and take a look,” he says. “Lizzie and Gigi, you may go, but if I catch you upstairs again, there will be serious consequences, and your parents will be called.”
Scott winks at me as he leaves with Donahue. I grab Lizzie’s hand and help her stand up. Color begins to return to her cheeks. I guide her out of his office. Maybe all she needs is a little rest.
Mrs. Kelso offers us her bowl of Peppermint Patties. “Gigi, I haven’t seen you for an entire week. It’s boring without you.”
My mouth waters as I unwrap my black-foiled Pattie. I’m a Peppermint Pattie addict, and Mrs. Kelso’s my supplier.
“Don’t worry, I’ve given Donahue a lot to think about. He’ll probably seek your counsel soon.”
“You must have handed him a doozy.”
Ryan bursts into the office. “There you are. I’ve been searching everywhere for you. Scott said he left you in here.” He wraps Lizzie into an embrace. “Do you feel okay? You look pale.”
And she does. Whatever color crawled back into her cheeks while we were holding hands left as soon as she let go of mine.
Her knees drop out from under her. Ryan swoops her into his arms. Her head falls against his chest.
“Should I call an ambulance?” Mrs. Kelso calls to us.
I check her forehead. It’s ice cold. Traditional medicine won’t touch what she has. “She needs Gram’s tea. Ryan, get her to your car. I’ll be right there.”
“Herbal tea? Really?” Mrs. Kelso says. “I could just call …”
I rest my hand on hers. “Lizzie’s going to be okay.”
She nods with me.
“Please let Scott know we went to Gram’s house.”
She nods again.
“Don’t let Donahue find out.”
“If he asks, I’ll tell him you went back to class.”
I let go and start for the door. “Thank you, Mrs. Kelso. You’re the best.”
“Gigi?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re not as damaged as you think you are. You help those that need it. Bad people only care about themselves.”
I give her a tight-lipped smile.
The damage runs deep under the surface. A jackhammer wouldn’t even scratch it.
31
Magical Backfires
When Gram sees Ryan carrying Lizzie down our front path, she backs into the house as if Lizzie’s a demon instead of a girl. “What happened to her?” she gasps.
She’s far too shocked to probe into my mind at this point, but I block myself off anyway. Scott and I joined as a team in Donahue’s office. Scott was more concerned about protecting me than trying to figure out what really happened, and I’m not telling Gram either. Not like this. Not ever.
I rest my hand on Ryan. “Set her on the sofa.”
He cradles her to his chest, breathing in her hair. It smells like the wild lilacs that grow outside her window in the springtime. He cherishes her as much as I do. She will always be safe with him nearby.
“Gram, we need your special tea.”
Gram squeezes my arm. “Gigi, I need to know what happened.”
“She needs your tea. Now.”
I race to the kitchen because Gram isn’t doing what she’s supposed to do. I fill the tea kettle and flick on the front burner before she catches up to me.
“Gigi,” she says, grabbing both my arms and digging her nails in. “You need to tell me what’s going on.”
Her attack catches me off guard. I almost let her in before I cut off my thoughts.
“Gram, she needs your tea.” I try to shrug her off, but she won’t let go. She’s surprisingly strong for her old age.
“The tea blend is for you. It won’t do Lizzie any good.”
“Of course it will help Lizzie. It always makes me feel better.” I jerk away and grab the tea blend jar from the counter. I measure out a serving and put it in the tea strainer. The tea kettle starts whistling its siren call. I reach for it.
“Gigi,” she says grabbing my arms again. “If you use it, you could kill her.”
“Gram, what are you talking about?”
Footsteps pound down the hall. “Hurry,” Ryan yells, “I’m losing her. I’m losing her.” He dashes back into the living room.
Gram stares at me. Her arms pinning me in place.
“Magic. I did magic.” The flames erupt in my throat. “The curse backfired.”
* * *
Gram worked on Lizzie for hours. She had Ryan chop wood and make a fire. She sent Scott to our attic for candles. As soon as he returned she asked him to pick up some of his dad’s books from his house. She sent me out three times for different herbs that were in the greenhouse or in one of the gardens, but only if Scott was back. I think she was afraid to be alone with Lizzie. During my first trip to the garden, I buried the winking eyeball pendant into the base of a lavender plant. Since lavender is calming, I figured that maybe it could neutralize any of the bad mojo coming from the eyeball.
When we weren’t running around gathering items for Gram, Ryan and I held Lizzie’s hands. There had to be enough love in the room to rid her of any sickness she might have, but it still took Gram far longer than I figured it would to heal her.
Thankfully, Breas didn’t come home after school. Not that I’m surprised or thought he’d help us. He’d be more in the way than anything else. But honestly, I thought he’d stop in if nothing else but to check in on me (because he’s so damn nosy and obsessive) and maybe even apologize about his little psychotic episode last night at Radley Pond. I mean what was that?
My gut instinct proved correct—he’s not to be trusted. He knew that Lizzie tried to curse him the other day. He doesn’t need to know about the missing spell book. He doesn’t need to know about the spell book period. Or what Lizzie tried to do to Kensey. Or basically anything at all. He can disappear, nev
er to return, for all I care.
As for the missing Kensey? With any luck, she evaporated into thin air.
When Lizzie finally comes to, I cradle her feet in my lap, Ryan sits on the floor next to her holding her hand, and Sphinx perches on the back of the sofa watching over her.
Gram shuffles in with another cup of tea she’s blended just for Lizzie. I need to ask her what’s in mine that would kill her.
“Here, Lizzie, drink this.”
Ryan releases her hand so she can drink, but he doesn’t go far. “Do you need anything? Are you good? Do you need to go home? I can take you home.”
She glances at me. She and I both know that Ryan can’t take her home, especially not in her present state. I don’t even want to imagine what her parents’ reaction would be.
“Hey, Ryan, could you help me with my chemistry homework?”
“Now? Can’t Scott help you?” he says, but there’s a lot more he’s not saying. Like why am I asking for help with chemistry when I don’t even care about school? And mainly, Lizzie is all that matters.
Of course I agree with him one hundred percent, but I can’t tell him that. I can’t tell him I know exactly what he’s thinking.
“Scott? He’s terrible at chemistry.” Fireworks explode in my throat. Scott is actually a freak of nature when it comes to chemistry.
Please don’t kill me, Scott.
You’re lucky Gram’s here.
Yeah, there’s that whole talking in my head thing. That’s going to take some time to get used to, but at least Scott’s willing to lie for me. Well, for Lizzie.
“Ryan, it’s true. I suck at chemistry. Besides, I need to pick up some goat cheese for Gram. Lizzie, would you mind if I drove you home?”
She smiles gratefully at him. “Sure, that would be great.”
Ryan shoves his hands in his pockets. “I don’t know …”
“Ryan, I’m fine. Scott can take me, and you can help Gigi.”
He reaches down to cup Lizzie’s hand between his. “Are you sure? Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
