Feral Curse (19 page)

“I brought salt,” Clyde says, reaching to pull a cloth bag out of his back pocket.

“There’s garlic and holy water in the trunk of your car, Yoshi,” Aimee adds. Turning to me, she asks, “Do you have a cross, Kayla?”

I’m reminded of the black crosses tattooed around her neck. I notice the matching ones on Clyde’s neck, too. I wonder if she mentioned
The Book of Lions
to him. Given that he’s being raised by Possums, I wonder if Clyde’s ever heard of it.

“On a necklace,” I say. My parents gave it to me for my twelfth birthday.

“Can you put that on?” she nudges. “Just in case.”

I nod. “I guess.”

Who
are
these people?

“WHY ARE WE WASTING TIME HERE?”
Clyde asks, sampling his chicken-fried cactus.

“I was hungry,” Yoshi says. He gnaws on his barbecued wings. “Weren’t you?”

Shifters. Hunger. Rhetorical question.

“Besides,” Aimee says, “Junior told me he needed time to practice the séance. He’s been busy teaching Evan and Tanya relaxation techniques.”

“Relaxation techniques?” Clyde echoes.

Aimee takes a sip of her sweet tea. “Deep breathing; yoga.”

That’s confidence-building. “The yoga yeti,” Yoshi replies. “He’s just a kid.”

“We’re here because,” I explain for the fourth time from across the picnic table, “I
have
to put in an appearance”— I gesture as if to the entire Founders’ Day scene —“or my parents will get suspicious. People will wonder where I am. They’re already wondering who y’all are.”

If it didn’t look like we were out on a double date, I’m sure somebody would’ve already hit on Yoshi and probably Clyde and Aimee, too. Her beauty isn’t as showy as theirs, but it’s true and adorable and you can tell she likes herself in a healthy way.

“People need to get a life,” Clyde announces. “Though that’s probably hard to do in a place like this.”

“Not a fan of small towns?” my father asks, strolling over. “That’s too bad.” Sticking out his hand, he says, “Welcome to Pine Ridge. I’m Mayor Morgan.”

“Kayla’s father,” Aimee says as they shake. Grinning up at my father, she adds, “Clyde is my cousin.”

We forgot to tell Clyde that we’d told Dad that Yoshi and Aimee were dating. Once you start lying, it’s scary how quick the fibs start piling up. Ashamed to make eye contact with my dad, I give my full concentration to dipping chunks of my pretzel in mustard.

Yoshi makes a show of massaging Aimee’s hands. “You’ll have to forgive Clyde,” he says with a wink. “You know how it is; there’s one in every family.”

“Shut up!” Clyde exclaims. “And stop touching her.”

Dad pats Clyde’s shoulder. “You tell him. I’m glad these pretty girls have such a dutiful chaperone. I feel strongly about my daughter’s personal space, too.”

I’m mortified, but then I catch a glimpse of Aimee. She’s looking at Dad in a longing way, like, however old-fashioned, she wishes her own father cared enough to fuss.

Granny Z’s cabin windows have been covered with beach towels. Junior has a different tablecloth in each hand. He holds up the baby-blue one. “Light-colored cloth attracts friendly spirits.” He pauses. “Is Ben friendly?”

Clyde visibly bristles, and I resist the urge to snarl.

“Is that a sensitive question?” Junior adds. I can tell from his posture and the leading way he says it that he’s mimicking Granny Z.

Nobody answers, and Clyde steps outside.

Based on Tanya’s and Evan’s previous respective behaviors, there was a big debate about whether they should be excused from the séance. But we’re all in this together.

Peter and Darby, too, of course, though they’re elsewhere at the moment. I can’t help worrying about how they’re coping with the effects of Ben’s spell, how its ripple effects might be affecting the people who care about them.

Meanwhile, Tanya may be taking deep, relaxing breaths, but she’s still glaring at me like she wants to rip me limb from limb, and Evan’s still looking at me like he wants to —

Come to think of it, I’d rather not spend quality time pondering his fantasies right now. I have enough to worry about, especially if Junior is truly capable of summoning Ben’s spirit.

At least we’re making tangible progress on reversing his spell. The missing carousel figures are starting to arrive. Across the cabin, Yoshi hauls the bear figure transported by Nora to the bedroom.

It joins the figures Yoshi’s already brought in from Stubblefield’s Secrets. It took nine trips, along back roads, in his Mercury Cougar, but we couldn’t avoid the highway bridge. Even using tarps for cover, Deputy Hoover and way too many locals caught a glimpse of him driving them out of Pine Ridge, especially given how much he’s been seen around town this weekend with me.

Still, there’s nothing I can do about that now, so I focus on the newcomer. Nora is a stylish older lady who’s the head chef at the restaurant where Aimee and Clyde work. Unlike the others, I’m not comfortable calling a grown-up by her first name, but she hugs the Austinites and new arrivals alike without so much as blinking at the weirdness that is Junior.

“You must be Kayla,” she says, wrapping a warm arm around my shoulders. “Hon, I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through all this.”

I couldn’t begin to count the number of people who said something like that to me since Ben died, but with Nora it’s different. I can tell she understands — not only how it feels to be caught up in something supernatural but also what loss means on a more personal level.

“Do you want me to stay?” she asks as Junior compromises by draping both cloths over the round table. “I don’t know much about ghosts, but I’m pretty comfortable around dead people.”

Returning with the snake figure, Clyde shakes his head. “I’d feel better if you cleared out so there’s someone we can call if Kayla’s ex-boyfriend goes all Amityville on our asses.”

“Try not to worry.” Aimee hugs Nora. “Remember, heaven is always on our side.”

They’re awfully religious for what my dad would consider Austin hippies.

Anyway, it seems to reassure the chef. She leaves after Yoshi and Tanya unload the coyote figures, a battery-powered radio, sleeping bags, and coolers of what turns out to be gourmet Texas-Italian fusion cuisine and bottled waters.

Junior announces that we should grab a snack if we’re hungry (we all pass), take a bathroom break if we need one (there’s no plumbing in the cabin, and right now, I’d rather hold it than squat behind a tree), and turn off our cell phones. He sounds matter-of-fact, like a flight attendant reciting emergency information for the millionth time.

Everyone with a working handheld reaches for it to comply.

“Does the phone have to be off to summon the spirit or just quiet?” Clyde asks.

Junior cocks his head. “Just quiet.”

Clyde and Aimee exchange a look, and I’m sure they’ve set theirs to vibrate.

I take a deep breath. Dear Lord, are we really going to summon a ghost?

Ben’s ghost?

“Please, everyone, take a seat,” Junior says, retrieving a cardboard box from a nearby shelf. “Kayla, what’s Ben’s favorite color?”

“Dark green,” I say. PRHS team colors are white and Pine Ridge green.

I peer into Junior’s box of votive candles and pick out the one the closest in hue.

Then I choose the chair between Yoshi and Aimee.

As Junior pours Clyde’s salt around us and the table, then lights the candle, I note that, seated clockwise from his empty chair, it’s Evan, Yoshi, me, Aimee, Clyde, and Tanya. The extra chair has been set against the cabin wall.

Junior also ignites four white candles at chalk-marked points for north, south, east, and west. “Spirits are often attracted to light,” he says. “And these are protective circles.”

“How can spirits be attracted and warded off by light?” Tanya asks with a raised brow.

“As a nonbeliever, your negative energy is counterproductive,” Junior informs her. “Now, Kayla, do you have a photograph of Ben?”

I wish people would stop asking me that. “No, I, um, burned them all.”

His huge blue eyes blink at me, and Aimee jumps in. “What about your phone camera?” she asks. “Or . . . does he have a Catchup page?”

“He did. Does. Did.” Mrs. Bloom left it up so that people could share memories.

I didn’t go online and officially change my relationship status with Ben when we broke up. That would’ve been too public, and I hadn’t been in the mood for questions. Come to think of it, I still haven’t done it. As far as the Internet is concerned, I’m still Ben’s girlfriend.

Aimee offers her phone, and, taking it, I quickly surf to his page, then to his photos . . . his hundreds of shots of me, with me, with his teammates, at dances, over pizza and tacos, with his tongue sticking out on the Superman roller coaster at Six Flags.

God, we had fun that day. I haven’t been letting myself think about the good times.

After a moment, Aimee gently pries the phone from my hand and chooses a head shot where he’s smiling. Then she hands it to Junior, who sets it on the table, screen up.

Without being asked, Yoshi unties the cat’s-eye gemstone necklace and gives that to Junior, too.

“Benjamin Bloom,” Junior intones, “we respectfully ask that you join us.”

Tanya smirks, and Junior glares at her so intensely that she squirms in her seat. She’s the only werebear I’ve ever known, but I get the feeling they don’t squirm often.

It makes me wonder about Junior, what he’s capable of. When we first met, he seemed innocent. I didn’t expect him to have this kind of depth or intensity. Or maybe he’s simply a great actor, which begs the question of which Junior is the real one.

“Join hands,” Junior says, moving the screen to the middle of the circle so we all can see it. “Think about Ben, about how much you want to talk to him.”

A cool, light wind blows through from nowhere, then . . . nothing.

Junior tries again. “Benjamin Bloom, is that you?”

Still nothing. Junior nods to me, urging me to speak, but I have no idea what to say. “Um, Ben? It’s me, Kayla.” My cross pendant feels chilly against my skin. “If . . . if you’re here, we have . . . I have a question for you.”

God, what am I going to ask? I feel self-conscious with so many ears listening.

I let go of Yoshi and reach for the cat’s-eye gemstone. To maintain the circle, the Cat sets his hand on my shoulder instead. This time the touch feels more comforting than sensual, to the extent that, in my nervousness, I can process it at all. “Ben . . .”

There’s no wind this time, just a more dramatic drop in temperature. Say, forty degrees.

I feel Aimee shiver beside me, but she gives my hand a reassuring squeeze.

A moment later, Yoshi coughs, Tanya begins silently opening and closing her mouth, and Evan jerks his head like he’s having a seizure.

Yoshi shouts, “I . . . Don’t . . . Can’t . . . Kayla, Kayla, Kayla, Kayla, Kayla, Kayla, Kayla, Kay, Kay, Kay, Kay-Kay-Kay —”

At the same time, Evan begins muttering, “La, la, la, la, la —”

“Stop it!” Aimee yells as Clyde blows out the candle on the table.

It doesn’t matter. The enchanted shifters are still wigging out.

“Thank you for coming, Ben,” Junior bellows. “Now it is time for you to move on.”

Yoshi, Tanya, and Evan fall forward in their chairs, motionless and dazed. “Don’t touch them,” Junior warns. “Let them come back to us in their own time.”

I’ve stood, knocking over my chair, backing away from the table and breaking the circle of salt in the process. “Did that work?” I ask. “Did Ben move on?”

Junior’s gaze flicks around the table. “Away? Yes. On? No, I don’t think so.”

Clyde gets up and tears the beach towels from the windows, letting the sun back in.

JUNIOR STORES THE CANDLES
and sweeps the salt from the floor while Clyde, Aimee, and I keep busy by setting up the provisions Nora brought. Comfort food. Call it stress eating, but I can’t resist the venison blood sausage. I live for sausage.

After maybe ten minutes, I’m dialing the radio to a country station when Tanya moans. I open my mouth to say I’m-not-sure-what, but Junior holds up his furry hands, like he’s trying to stop traffic. “Easy,” he warns. “Don’t rush her.”