Spectral (4 page)
Willow followed me out of the bathroom where I’d taken the longest shower ever. I couldn’t stop looking at my birthmark in the mirror. I’d seen it a million times before, but now it seemed different. I always knew I had to cover it. I assumed what my parents said was true—that it was too big an identifying mark. I figured the mob could readily identify me if they saw it.
But now I was beginning to think everything—the moving, the hiding, the secrets—didn’t have anything to do with my dad and the mob. What was worse was that my new suspicions seemed even more frightening, if that were even possible.
I decided to leave my hair down since I was having a good hair day and the jeans Grandma Raine bought me surprisingly fit and were a welcome change. Maybe Taylor would lay off on the makeover bit now.
I put on a black fitted t-shirt and flip-flops. Pretty much everything in my closet was black, except for a few jade green tops. Ensuring my birthmark was covered by my sleeve, I stepped outside to sit on the front bench to wait for Taylor. Willow curled up beside me on the swing.
When Taylor arrived, she jumped out of the car and bounced up a couple steps to the front porch until she saw Willow and froze.
I crooked a brow. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of cats?”
She laughed. “Not at all. Just allergic. I don’t look good sporting red spots,” she joked.
“No prob. I’ll meet you in the car.” I put a struggling Willow back in the house and closed the door. She meowed relentlessly as I walked away. “I’ll be back soon,” I told her as if she understood.
I headed to the car, but just when I thought the coast was clear, Aunt Eva came outside. “Have you got your phone?” she asked straight-faced.
I opened the door to Taylor’s car and waved my cell in the air with my other hand. Aunt Eva stood with her hands on her hips. “Make sure you
answer
it when it rings.”
“Oohh she’s like a pit-bull on a poodle,” Taylor said as she backed out of the driveway.
I nodded and laughed. “For real,” I said, feeling relieved to be out of there.
“So what do ya wanna go to the library for? Or do I sense a little scam action going on?”
“Yeah—I mean no. Well, yes I do wanna go to the library. And no to the scam action.” I laughed. “I just want to do a bit of research on a little hobby of mine, that’s all.” I didn’t think I should explain to Taylor my true motives. I didn’t want to scare off the one friend I had in a long time with stories of ghosts and séances.
“Okay cool. I hope you don’t mind that I invited Jack to come by.” She turned toward me tilting her chin down, peering up at me from beneath her black designer sunglasses. “Maybe he’ll bring Chase with him,” she grinned and looked back at the road.
“Chase?” I asked, surprised as I pulled down the visor and checked my reflection in the mirror.
“Aha! You
do
like him,” Taylor said as she turned up the radio that was playing Taylor Swift’s newest song. “We Taylor’s have to stick together.” She pointed to the dial with a giggle. “Besides, you look great. I like the new do.”
I flipped the visor back up. “Thanks,” I managed.
When we went in the library, it was pretty much empty except for a couple of kids sitting at a table in the corner, intent on whatever they were reading, and a man tapping away on an old computer. There was no sign of Jack or Chase. I was relieved. As hot as Chase was, I didn’t go there to boy hunt. I went to find info.
When Taylor didn’t see Jack, however, she seemed peeved and pulled her phone out. The librarian gave her a stern look and pointed at a sign on the wall that had a picture of a cell phone with a large X through it.
Taylor grunted. “I’ll be right back, True. I’m just gonna call Jack and see if he’s still coming.”
“No prob,” I said as my eyes drifted around. I was surprised by how large the town’s library was. There was only one level but it was like a big warehouse with high ceilings and row after row of soaring metal bookcases. The ancient smell of crumbling parchment filled the air like a graveyard of books. The beige linoleum floor crackled beneath my feet and dust floated in the strands of sunlight pouring in from the small window like flecks of dandruff. I chewed on my lip. “It’s like a sanitarium from a horror movie,” I mumbled under my breath. I hugged my arms tightly at the elbows with a shudder.
I had no idea where to start so I made my way over to the librarian. “Hi there,” I started, feeling jittery and not knowing how to get the words out. “Um, can you tell me what section I can find information on things like—um like ghosts and um séances and spiritual stuff?” I felt my cheeks flush as I imagined how weird she must have thought I was.
“In the occult section,” she said without missing a beat. “Aisle fifteen, on your right,” she lifted her pencil, jerked it to the right, and then buried her head back into the book she was reading.
“Thanks,” I whispered and headed in the direction she pointed. I wished it were a little busier so I didn’t feel so totally creeped out. I found the aisle and began shuffling through the volumes that crammed the shelves. There were books of every size and color. A lot of them were on yoga and how to make herbal candles and stuff.
“Yeah, that’s
exactly
what I need right now—herbal candles.” I rolled my eyes. I kept searching, rummaging through book after book, until one large book caught my attention.
Ancient Witchcraft
. The cover was tattered and the title was written in scripted gold, faded lettering.
Below the title was a symbol of a golden dagger that vaguely looked familiar. It had a snake coiled around its blade, fangs bared. The hair on my neck prickled. It looked exactly like the dagger I saw the girl hold on the card in my dream the previous night.
I sat on the floor and the cold from the floor seeped through my jeans, causing me to shiver. As I ran my hand over the daggered symbol, uneasiness washed over me. I chewed on the end of my thumb, and with the other hand I flipped open to the first page and began to read.
For those of you brave enough to read this book take heed: Witchcraft is the use of supernatural powers to influence or predict events. It is also known as conjuration, magic, sorcery, witching, and wizardry. It can be used for benefit or harm. In these pages you will find spells of all sorts. Cautionary note: these spells are powerful and are meant for witches—true witches. Contrary to popular belief, one cannot merely become a witch, but is born into a witch coven. An average person may indeed be able, with much practice and study of the craft, to learn some tricks and simple spells. However, they will be weak in comparison to the ones conjured by persons with pure witch blood.
I closed the book
.
A witch? The word Spectral didn’t say anything about witches.
I put the book back on the shelf. It was a tight fit and as I tried to squeeze it in, something sharp pricked my finger.
“Ouch!” I jerked my hand back, dropping the book to the floor. A drop of blood puckered on my finger and I put my finger in my mouth. The bitter taste of metallic invaded my taste buds. “Stupid book,” I muttered, and gave the book a shove with my foot, sending it skittering across the aisle.
Suddenly, the eyes of the snake coiled around the dagger opened. I was sure the hideous serpent looked straight at me. I gasped, jumping backward. I stared wide-eyed as the snake’s eyes closed again. I shook my head telling myself it couldn’t be real—that I was just imagining things.
Creepville.
The library was totally weirding me out. I stared at the book. It looked the same as before, old and tattered. I inhaled deeply, and dropped to my knees, eager to slug the sucker back into the slot on the shelf and get the hell outta there. Somebody sneezed, the sound echoing against the concrete walls, startling me.
With a groan, I picked the book up, hands trembling; stood, and turned to replace it when I noticed a tinge of red on one of the snake’s fangs.
“Did you bite me, you little monster?” I fumed, and then shook my head thinking how being alone in that old library must be spooking me. I squared my shoulders and sighed, telling myself that too many sleepless nights was causing me to see things. I did prick my finger, but it just got caught on the sharp edge of the snake emblem, I assured myself. I walked back to the bookshelf, wondering what was taking Taylor so long.
At the same moment I put the book back on the shelf, I heard a guy’s voice behind me.
“True?”
I didn’t need to turn around to know it was Roman. His sexy lyrical voice gave him away. Still, I twisted my neck around and parted my lips to say hi, but the book began to shake in my hands. I sucked in air, startled, and fought to steady it.
“I’m sorry,” Roman said softly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Oh, no-no. It’s just this b—” I started but stopped, realizing how stupid I’d sound if I claimed a snake emblem on a book bit me and that now the book was actually shaking. It was impossible. I knew that. Yet, it was happening anyway. The hush of the library amplified my heartbeat until I was sure Roman could hear it.
Slowly, I released my hand but the book shook again. I gritted my teeth and grabbed the book, shoving it in my bag. Curiously, the tremors stopped. I gulped back a labored breath and said, “Yeah, kinda creepy in here, I guess.” The familiar rush of heat spread across my cheeks.
“It doesn’t help that you’re in the
Occult
section.” His lips twitched into a little smile as he leaned against the bookshelf nonchalantly.
I hoisted my oversized bag over my shoulder and walked closer to him, inhaling his fresh scent of an ocean breeze mixed with cinnamon. I leaned in a little closer, wishing I could bask in it. “So, what are
you
doing here?”
He handed me a coffee he’d held behind his back.
“You’re here to bring me coffee?” I lifted a surprised eyebrow, smiled, and took a sip. “And my favorite, too. Impressive.” I took another sip, savoring the caffeine hitting my blood stream. Not that I needed a caffeine rush, of course. Since Roman showed up, my heart had already begun an instant crescendo. I searched for something to say. It’s not like I had much experience talking with extremely hot, mysterious guys bearing gifts. I was definitely glad I’d put extra effort into my appearance that morning. “Thanks. So you here doing some research, or what?”
A grin played on his lips, and I couldn’t help remembering my dream in class of him kissing me. Could the real deal possibly be so amazing?
“Actually,” he said, snapping me back from stolen kisses to the book-lined library. I took another sip, hiding my crimson face behind the cup. “I saw you and Taylor come in, and yes, I thought I’d bring you coffee. I thought you could use it. Everyone needs a pick me up.” He cocked his head. “That…and to remind you about coming down to the Phoenix later.”
I lifted my gaze from the cup, back to Roman’s eyes and across his olive toned complexion. The boy was too gorgeous for words.
Roman’s eyebrows suddenly furrowed together as he took the coffee from me and laid the cup on a bookshelf. He lifted my hand slowly, turning it over and examining my finger, which was pricked with red where I’d nicked the tip.
“Hey I was enjoying that,” I said, eyeing the coffee and trying to avoid questions of the crazy book in my bag.
He looked at me and back to my finger.
“I’ll live,” I said with a forced laugh. “Just a paper cut.”
He stretched my hand up to his lips and kissed my fingertip gently. Electricity ran through my body. I’ve never had a boy kiss me before, not even my finger. And especially not one as hot as Roman. Dreams didn’t count. I must have blushed because he instantly dropped my hand.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He took a step back, lips tight. I cursed my fair cheeks and telltale blush. I definitely didn’t want him to back off. His gesture was sweet, and I hated that I couldn’t just soak it up instead of being embarrassed by it.
Roman shoved his hands in his pockets. “But you should definitely put Polysporin or something on it so it doesn’t get infected or anything—so says my mom.” He smiled again. “She’s a nurse.” He grabbed the cup off the shelf and handed me back the coffee.
A multi-colored butterfly suddenly fluttered down from the ceiling landing on my fingers laced around the coffee cup. I gasped, but didn’t move. Glancing up at the ceiling, I whispered in awe, “Where did that come from?”
Roman’s lips twisted into a grin as he gazed down at it, and then back into my eyes. He raised one shoulder. “One butterfly always knows another.”
The butterfly flew off. “That was random…and cute.”
“So then…Phoenix later?” Roman asked stepping toward me, drawing my attention back. Heat from his body radiated against the skin on my arm.
I took a sip of coffee to buy some time. “I’ll ask Taylor. She’s driving.”
He folded his arms across his toned chest, stretching the fabric tight, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to be held in those arms, against that strong chest. There was something about him that just made me get all fluttery.
Get it together, Jewel. You’ve got bigger things to worry about.
“True?” I heard Taylor yell, followed by a muffled, “Sorry.”
I peeked around the corner and saw Taylor back at the entrance of the library looking apologetically toward the straight-lipped librarian who was now standing, hands fisted on her hips, and glaring at Taylor.
“That’s my ride. Gotta fly,” I said, slipping past Roman and into the hallway. I didn’t really want to leave him but I
did
want out of that library. I turned back, biting my lip. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” he said as he raked his fingers back through his dark strands and backed away within the aisle out of sight.
“There you are,” Taylor said, blowing her bangs with an exasperated huff. She jerked her head toward the librarian and muttered, “Warden.”
I chuckled, covering my mouth to mute the sound. My hormones were still going crazy from being with Roman, and I giggled again feeling totally disjointed.