Broken Spell (15 page)

Every time Skye and Mona lock themselves up in my sister’s bedroom, an uneasy sensation comes over me. I fear that Mona might share, accidentally or not, some obscure and embarrassing anecdote about my childhood. Or that Skye would let slip any detail of our relationship, which Mona would bring up just to see me squirm.

Mostly, I have the lingering feeling that Mona might blow up our house if she loses control of her magic.

But right now, Mona is alone in her room. She may be talking on the phone with Pain, or reading, or putting on her goth makeup. Or she could be doing spells and putting our lives in danger.

I don’t want to think about it. That’s why I’m playing Xbox and trying to focus on the game. The new TV is not as big as the one that broke during the earthquake, but the sound is amazing.

The doorbell is still louder than the game, though. I pause my game with reluctance, leaving my virtual squad hanging, and walk to the door.

Yara is there, a lopsided grin on her face.

“Hey,” I say. My face must betray my puzzlement.

“Hey, Drake,” she says.

A pause. “How are you?”

“I’m good.”

“Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I have good news. May I?” She points to my living room.

“I guess. I mean, sure.” I open the door all the way and let her in.

“Thanks,” she says, scurrying into the house. She sits on the sofa before I have the chance to offer.

I close the door behind her and follow her to the living room. “What’s up?” I ask, getting the lounger for myself.

Her smile fades. “Direct, aren’t you?”

“Oh, sorry. Do you want something to drink?”

She chuckles. “I’m just messing with you. And yes, can I have a diet soda? I’m thirsty.”

We go to the kitchen, and I hand her a soda. “So…”

She takes a sip. “I heard the guys talking about how you used to take
pre-calc at Greenwood.”

“Yeah. But they don’t have it at Fremont.”

She plays with the magnets on the fridge. “I know. They don’t have chem either, but I got a special waiver to attend Ballard’s classes. They have pre-calc and a bunch of accelerated learning classes. That’s what I wanted to tell you. You could apply too.”

That’s interesting. I miss those classes, and they could help me if I eventually decide to go to college. “Do you think the district would approve? We’re in the middle of senior year.”

“Well, the earthquake messed up everything. They should consider the circumstances, right?”

That could work. “You’re right, Yara. I didn’t know about it. Thanks.”

Her face lights up. “No problem,
gatinho
.” She steps toward me.

Instead of asking what the word means, I say, “But you didn’t need to come all the way here. You could’ve just told me at school.”

“It’s no trouble, Drake. Besides, when do we have the time to be by ourselves at school? I mean, just the two of us.”

Uh-oh. I’m getting a vibe. Is Yara flirting? I’ve been wrong about this before. Like, a million times. A million embarrassing times. At the last party, I thought Priscilla was coming on to me, but she wasn’t at all. I’m probably imagining things again.

“Right,” I say. “It’s cool to hang out outside school.”

She nods. Then her back straightens. Her smile is gone, and she’s looking at the ceiling. “Is Skye here?” she asks.

“What? No.”

“You sure?”

What is that? “I would know, wouldn’t I?” Maybe she
is
flirting with me.

“Is Greta?”

“What? No. Why would she?”

Yara pierces me with her eyes. “Who’s upstairs?”

“Just my sister.”

“Is your sister…a Sister?”

It takes me a while to process her question. When I do, my whole body tenses. Crap. I have no idea what to do.

Yara looks at me with a confused expression. “Skye told us you’re a Knowing. I thought you became one because of Skye. I’ve never imagined your sister was one too.”

I jump to my feet. What do I do? Skye would know. I cup my hands in front of my mouth and shout, “Mona, stop what you’re doing! Now!”

Yara is startled. She rises and looks up again. “It’s gone. How did she do that?”

Then, just to make it worse, Mona yells while coming back down, “Hey, dummy. I was busy—” She halts when she sees Yara. “Hi.” Mona looks at me with an inquisitive look.

“Hey, Mona. This is Yara. Mona, please go back up and read a book or something. Don’t do anything else.”

She scoffs. “What are the odds I’ll do what you tell me to do?”

“Please?” I plead.

Mona glances at Yara, and something must have clicked in her brain, because she says, “You got it.” Mona jogs back upstairs.

“Wait,” Yara says, but my sister goes to her bedroom and slams the door. “What just happened?” Yara asks me. “I felt nothing, then one source, then the energy was gone.”

I try to salvage the situation, but my attempt is lame. “Skye may have been visiting. She goes in and out through the window. She likes to climb. Rock-climbing.”

Yara tilts her head. “If this were true, I’d have felt the energy increasing and decreasing. It doesn’t just vanish.”

I think fast. “Yara, please hear me out. Sit down.”

“Drake, I know Sisters don’t work that way.”

“Yeah. Mona is not a Sister. It’s a secret. But you can’t tell anyone. Promise?”

She tilts her head.

Yara is damn smart. I need to fake being smarter. “The truth is…Skye gave Mona a magical amulet.” All this time I thought I wasn’t a gambler.

“A what?”

“A magical thingie.” I make a vague shape with my hands. “I’m not sure what it is. It’s Mona’s. She doesn’t let me near it. It’s advanced stuff, apparently. You can deposit your…personal magic? Is that what you call it? You transfer it into a vessel, and it’s stored there.” I make it up as I go. The problem is, I don’t know how to stop it. “When you need it, you can transfer it back to the Sister.”

Yara looks past me, in deep thought. “That’s not real. That’s the stuff of fantasy.” Her smile is gone for good now, and it’s not sending a postcard.

“No, it’s real. Skye told me it’s possible. Advanced Craft, remember? That’s…that’s why she gave it to Mona. So Mona could hold it for Skye. Skye said she’d in trouble with her coven if she were caught with it.” I lower my voice. “Skye might have stolen it. Maybe she brought it from England.”

It’s a huge bluff. It turns out it’s so convoluted that Yara is in doubt. “Really?” She looks at me, but I keep my poker face. “I thought amulets only stored a tiny bit of magic, tied with a spell. And that they didn’t emanate energy. Are you sure?”

I open my arms. “That’s what Skye told me.”

“And the energy?”

“I think that when Mona activates it somehow, it releases the energy. Just a little? I wouldn’t know.”

“That’s why you shouted at her to stop it. She could have let it all out.”

“Exactly!” She’s buying it.

“So is Mona a Knowing too?”

Oh. “That makes sense. I mean, she is.”

“How old is she?”

“Just turned fifteen.”

Yara raises her eyebrows. “You keep an eye on her, then. She might end up being a Sister, after all.”

“I doubt that. But I’ll pay attention,” I say, trying to relax my voice. “So can you keep the secret? Please?”

“I don’t know. I want to know more about it. May I see the amulet?”

“No! That’s not right. It’s not mine. Come on, Yara. I leveled with you. Please don’t tell anyone. Not even Greta.”

“I’m not sure about that. I tell Greta almost everything. This is a big favor.”

“I know. I’m asking as your friend.”

Yara stands up slowly and looks at me. She has a different glint in her eyes. “Maybe you could do me a favor back?” Her voice is low.

“Sure. Anything.”

She approaches me. It just takes me a second to realize what she intends to do. Her lips get close to mine, her minty, hot breath inviting in a strange way. She closes her eyes. We stop, frozen. A million thoughts cross my mind in that instant, but when she presses her lips to mine, I don’t push her away. It’s a chaste kiss. Nevertheless, it makes me warm inside. And guilty as hell.

She pulls back in a slow movement, opens her eyes, and smiles at me. “Now we both have a secret. I’ll keep yours if you keep mine.”

“Yara, you know I can’t do that.”

“It’s just a kiss, silly. Don’t worry. Both secrets are safe.”

She caresses my cheek before walking to the door.

“Not even Greta, okay?”

“I told you. I tell her almost everything.
Almost
.”

Priscilla is shooting me a horrified look. I can’t blame her. My disfigured face belongs to someone who needs to go to the emergency room right away.

She drives me in her Prius. I called her out of the blue, asking her to pick me up at the edge of the park. When Priscilla saw me, she was appalled. She wanted to call 911 and asked me a barrage of questions, but I told her I needed time. I was adamant about not going to a hospital or involving the cops.

Protecting the Veil means I don’t get much medical attention or police help.

I couldn’t call Yara or Greta. They would be curious about me, the Singularity, and the Night covens. It would be just a matter of time before they realized that, if the Night covens have questions about Brianna, our covens should look into that too.

That’s not the main reason, though. I’m not sure I trust them. They drugged me without my knowledge. It’s a shame, because Yara probably knows how to brew a mean Healing potion.

They are my Sisters, but I feel more connected to Pri.

I can’t show up like this at Gemma’s house. She’d immediately call Mum—or worse, Connor. The last thing I need is Connor getting even more suspicious. He’s already pushing me to meet that Mother with Truth Charm, and I have no idea how to get out of it.

Priscilla steals some glances my way. Knowing her, I’m sure she will press me for answers soon.

I flip down the passenger’s mirror. Oh, Goddess. My real face has disappeared. I’m looking at a grotesque mask made of dirt, blood, and dead skin. My old arm and temple scars from the battles with Jane were finally gone, but now this: my face is swollen, covered in bruises, and my nose may be broken. Great.

Please, let the Allure work its magic. No way can I be seen in public like this. I need to accelerate my healing.

The pain is crazy. I’ve never experienced anything like this. It feels like an insanely bad sinusitis, only it acts on my whole face. Thank Goddess Priscilla brought me the bag of ice I asked for. I press it to my face with care, and it soothes me a little.

“Can I have a sleep over?” I mumble with a hoarse voice.

“Sure,” Priscilla says. “Skye—”

“Please, listen to me. Can you take me to my house first? I need to get some stuff, and then we can go to yours. We’ll talk later.”

“That’s not cool, Skye.”

“Just give me a few minutes for myself. Please?”

She shakes her head and says, “Fine.”

Minutes later, we’re in front of
Gemma’s house. She’s used to my coming home late, and all the lights are out. Still a bit dizzy, I walk to the front door, unlock it, and punch in the security code.

The dark house is silent. If Gemma catches me and sees my face, I’m done for. She’ll call all the Sisters she knows, starting with Mum and Connor. I tiptoe to my room and gather my ritual tools and some vials that Yara prepared. I stuff a few clothes into a duffel bag.

I scribble a note for Gemma. “Sleeping over at Priscilla’s. I will call you when I wake up.” It sounds detached. So I add, “Love, Skye.” I slide the note under her door.

When I get back to the car, Priscilla is tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. She’s about to burst.

“Thanks, Pri. You’re always there for me.”

This softens her a little. She raises her eyebrows, but drives me to her home in silence.

Her house is as dead as mine. We go to her room.

“I need a few minutes in your bathroom,” I tell her.

She nods. “Do you need help?”

“Maybe later. Thanks.” I take all my stuff into the bathroom.

With the lights on, I look at myself in the mirror. Rather, I look at the house of horrors version of myself who is staring back at me. I need to see what’s underneath the red mask. I wash my hands thoroughly. Cold water splashed on my face soothes the pain a little. It washes the blood away. I repeat the process until the water runs almost clear. I get a hand towel and gently pat my face with it. The towel turns pink.

Now I can see all the damage. My nose is huge and looks crooked, but it doesn’t feel broken. At least, it doesn’t hurt worse than the rest of my face. Maybe it’s just swollen.

My lips and brow are covered with cuts. Both my cheeks are puffed up. I’ve got a black eye and a chipped tooth. It’s surreal, like I’ve fought an MMA match.

I rummage in my duffel bag and line up Yara’s vials. It’s too late for the Shield pill now—and even the Shield ritual I did this morning was cancelled by the Dispel tattoo. The Shield spell could have lessened the effects of the beating too, but it’s much better to have had the Dispel and not spilled the beans about Mona.

I should have made an amulet for me, just like I did for Mona.

The Shield pills and the attack ones—Sleep, Poison Ivy, Decay—go back into the duffel bag.

If the Dispel works like the other potions, it should have worn off by now. I fill a glass of water and take Restore and Healing pills. Yara, despite my mixed feelings about you, I can’t deny you’re a master of potions.

I find a bottle of Advil behind the vanity mirror and take the full daily dose. Pri knocks quietly on the door.

“Hey, there you are. You look much better,” she says after I let her in.

“Thanks for lying, Pri.”

“You’re welcome. Here, I found Neosporin. I can make a pharmacy run if you need.”

“No, thanks. That will do. Apply it for me?”

“Sure. Sit on the edge of the bathtub and close your eyes.”

She’s in better spirits. Or at least, she’s faking it. Either way, I’m glad. I feel bad about lying to her.

The cold cream against my face is soothing. I hope all the drugs kick in soon.

“So crazy night, huh?” she says.

“Pri, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you everything.” Thank Goddess my eyes are closed. I don’t want to see her disapproving face.

“You know that’s not normal, right? I mean, a few weeks ago I saw scars on your head and arms. And now this. What’s going on?”

“I can’t tell you. I really can’t.”

“It’s not Drake, right?”

“No!”

“Or your creepy ex?”

“No! He’s not creepy, just…an idiot.”

I hear a sigh. “Then it’s worse. If it’s not them, a stranger did this to you. You need to tell the police. Or
social services. You’re still a minor. And you need, I don’t know, a bodyguard. Open your eyes, Skye.”

I open them and stare at her. But I understand she means that I need to see the situation.

Her face looks older, stern. “Skye. What’s going on? Tell me. Don’t you trust me?”

My eyes water. “Pri, I trust you more than anyone. You’re the best. I just can’t tell you everything.”

Priscilla’s tone is a disheartened one. “You rescued me when I hit rock bottom with Boulder’s accident. Think about it. Imagine how helpless I feel when I see him like that and now you like this, and you won’t let me do anything for you. Let me help you.”

I put my hand over hers. “You can’t. No one can. But it’s okay. It’s over. Don’t worry. Promise me you won’t worry.”

She’s not sold. “Promise me you will tell me and ask me for help if it gets worse.”

“Deal.”

We go to sleep in her queen-sized bed. She strokes my hair until I black out.

***

Bright lights. This is wrong. Am I in London? No, no, I’m in Seattle. Either way, this is wrong.

My head hurts. It feels heavy. Even my eyelids are made of lead. Opening my eyes is a tricky proposition.

I blink a few times. The bed feels odd—too soft. The walls are different. Priscilla’s bedroom.

Memories from the previous night hit me like a tsunami. I’m awash in pain, tension, and confusion. Miranda and Jane in one night. Being drugged by my own friends, and then beaten up by my enemies. That was a serious beating.

Breathing deeply, I calm my nerves. I’m safe now. In Pri’s house. Her bedroom is my little sanctuary. I’m so glad I have a friend.

Then I turn and see Priscilla’s face, and I’m not so glad anymore.

She’s staring at me with an accusatory gaze: narrowed eyes, a deep scowl, her lips glued together. What did I do this time? I mean, besides keeping my best friend in the dark?

“How do you feel?” Her words are affable, but her tone sure isn’t.

“Better.” My voice comes out in a growl, so I clear my throat and try again. “Not well, but better. It couldn’t get worse, could it?” I say, offering an ice-breaker.

But somehow her expression becomes even sterner. “I’d say it could,” she says. She shows me a bag full of pills and vials. Yara’s stash.

My mind is dull and slow. I can’t understand exactly what’s going on. I come back with the lamest of the responses: “Did you go through my things?”

“That’s not the issue here, Skye.”

I try to prop myself up on the fluffy pillows, but I drown in them. “It sounds like a pretty important issue. To me.”

“Don’t be so righteous. You brought drugs into my house. But that’s also
not
the issue.”

With considerable effort, I straighten, despite the quicksand-
ish pillows. I lean against the back board of the bed, but lifting my head makes me dizzy.

“Pri, I’m confused… These are not drugs.”

She throws the bag on my lap. “I’m not an idiot! This bag and last night proves you’re involved in drugs. And drug deals. That’s what you were doing there, right? A deal gone bad?”

I snort, but the sudden movement feels like my brain is about to explode. My nose hurts like hell too. I groan and bring my hands to my face, but manage to whisper, “You’ve been watching too much cable, Pri.”

“What is it, then? What happened last night?” She slaps the bed.

“Can you get me a glass of water?”

“No. Tell me. Right now, straight up, before you have time to think up a lie. The scars, the beating, the drugs.”

“Those are not drugs. Those are supplements.”

“What?”

“Organic stuff. Mortar and pestle, my little cauldron, some herbs.” I open the bag. “Come on, smell it.” I hand her over a sage leaf. “It’s natural.”

“Like weed?” She picks up the leaf and takes a whiff.

“No. Like a natural medicine. That’s why I had to get it last night. I believe in this. I haven’t looked in the mirror, but I bet I’m already looking better. Or, at least, not too messed up. Right?”

She eyes me strangely, but nods in an almost imperceptible motion. Goddess bless the Allure and Yara’s bag of tricks.

“It works. You can buy these in shops—it’s nothing illegal. And I don’t get high or anything.”

“You are a new age kook…” Pri says, unsure.

“Thanks.”

“But you put on Neosporin. And I saw the Advil bottle.”

I shrug pointedly. “Just hedging my bets.”

“What about this?” She points to my face.

“It was a mugging, Pri. Did you see my wallet or my cell? He took them. I was just too pissed off to talk about it last night. Even my glasses are gone,” I add, for effect.

“You called me on a phone.” She fishes the phone Jane gave me out of my purse.

It takes me few seconds, but I come up with an explanation. “This is a prepaid, cheap one that I keep for when the battery of the other is dead. Or for emergencies. Like this.” What’s another lie?

Her lips are still pursed. But her voice is low now. “Were you attacked…you know?”

“No, no. That would be horrific. No, just some thug trying to get my purse, and me dumbly fighting him off. Don’t worry.”

I tell her I was in the park for one of my “silly nature walks,” and a guy came and tried to rob me. When I resisted, he beat me to take my purse—and punched me a little extra, for my daring.

“Oh, Skye, that sounds terrifying.”

“It was.”

She looks at me with pity now. “And your scars?”

I point to my temple. “This one I got at the pool, watching Drake. I slipped and hit my head. He was there; you can ask him. And this one,” I show her the almost invisible scar on my arm, “I got it when I was using that knife in the bag.” I point to my athame. “I was trying to chop some leaves. You know how clumsy I am.”

She nods, deep in thought. “Why didn’t you tell me any of these things?”

I open my arms. “I don’t know. Those are all embarrassing. All that happened because I like alternative stuff. And you’re not into any of that. I was afraid you would think I was a dork.”

“That’s dumb. I already think that.” Her mouth almost smiles.

“Now, can we get into why you were going through my stuff?”

“Just concerned with my sis.” Pri taps my knee affectionately. “You told you would call Gemma in the morning. Here’s the phone. Do you want the glass of water now?”

“If the interrogation is over,” I say.

***

During breakfast, I tell Priscilla, “I need to call Drake. I don’t want him to see me like this.”