Spirit Storm (15 page)

“You’re bouncy today,” she said. “What’s up?”

“Hot date last night,” I said, grinning.

“What?” Emma sputtered. Her eyes bugged out and I couldn’t stop laughing.

“A date with Cal,” I said. “He came to me in a dream and he looked…better, more solid. I think what we’re doing is really helping him.”

“More solid, eh?” Emma asked. “Really.”

We started giggling as Emma drove toward school. I remained in a good mood, floating down the halls, until a homeroom announcement about the upcoming school House of Horror. I hadn’t forgotten the approach of Halloween, but the droning on about upcoming festivities reminded me how little time I had left to prepare for Samhain. I still needed to acquire the fake amulet and plan a stealthy breaking and entering in Salem.
All before twilight October 31
^st
.

Like that wasn’t stress enough, I had an evil surprise waiting for me at lunch. Emma was waiting at our usual table and was nearly bursting to give me the bad news.

“Did you hear about the House of Horror?” Emma asked.

“Seems an appropriate name for the gymnasium,” I said.

“So true, but that’s not what I meant,” Emma said. She slid an orange and black flyer across the table. “Look, it says here to visit the House of Horror to see Wakefield High School’s very own resident witch.”

I looked closely at the flyer and winced at my scowling face beneath a pointy witch hat. They had even added a large hairy mole to my nose. Painfully aware that we were totally exposed in the open cafeteria I gritted my teeth, fisted my hands, and resisted tearing the flyer into itty bitty black and orange confetti. This had to be the work of the J-team. It had their stink about it.
Jerks.

“I really can’t wait for high school to be over,” I said, pushing the flyer away.

“Too true,” Emma said. “So anyway, how’s your ankle feeling today? You’re keeping the dressing clean, right?”

“Heck yeah, I’m even thinking of using it as an excuse to get out of gym class tomorrow,” I said.

“Scandalous,” Emma said eyes wide.

“That’s me,” I said, grinning. “The witchy pooh with a freaky tattoo.”

I snatched one of Emma’s rice crackers and grimaced. It tasted fishy. Since Emma didn’t eat fish, I figured the little green bits must be seaweed.
Gross.

“Karma baby,” Emma said. “That’s what you get for stealing my lunch.”

With a wink Emma slowly ate another rice cracker. I rolled my eyes and was about to go in search of something vaguely edible, but pushing up from the table I saw Gordy walking our way. He looked…determined.
Crap.

“Don’t look now, but here comes Gordy at six o’clock,” I said. “Quick question. The Clash, what’s your answer?”
Should I stay or should I go now?

Emma choked on her last cracker. “So not ready for this, but…you go girl,” she said. She was trying to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ll be right over there,” I said, glancing at the nearby trash cans.

I nodded to Gordy as I passed by, but he didn’t even see me. His eyes were locked on Emma and when he came to stand across the table from her I could see the tension in his hunched shoulders.
Not good.

I knew Gordy had fallen hard, but when Emma said she was going to break up with him I agreed that it was for the best. They had only been dating for a few weeks and already an ocean of secrets existed between them. Emma was right to break things off before he got hurt, more than he already was, but it was hard to remember all of that seeing the look on Gordy’s face. The pain etched there ran deep and his eyes were full of raw emotion.

“So what’s so wrong with me?” Gordy asked. “Was it something I did? Something I didn’t do? I really like you Emma.”

“You’re great, really great,” Emma said. “It’s not you Gordy, it’s me. I’ve got a lot going on right now.”

“Yeah, I know,” Gordy said. “That’s the problem Emma. You never let me in. You’re always busy. You’re always leaving and…I’m always being left behind.” Gordy turned to leave, but Emma reached out for his sleeve.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Can we still be friends?”

Gordy hadn’t turned back to face her, so Emma couldn’t see the tears beginning to slide down his cheek, but I could.

“I don’t know,” he said. “Give me some time.”

He pulled away from Emma’s grasp and, for a moment, I was torn between running after him and going back to our table. I felt like both my friends needed me, but decided Gordy would probably want his space. Guys don’t like to cry in front of girls. With one last look at Gordy’s retreating back I walked over and sunk into my chair.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Yeah sure, if by okay you mean feeling like a donkey’s butt,” Emma replied. “Does it always hurt this much to do the right thing?”

Emma looked up from her lap and her eyes looked sad. No frown lines, no tears. If I didn’t know her so well I would have thought she was a total ice queen with no emotions. Emma may be the poster child for calm, cool, and collected, but her eyes gave her away. Plus, while Gordy had been speaking, she crumbled one of her crackers into dust.
Emma wasting food? Surely a sign of the apocalypse.

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t know,” I said, twisting one of the skull buttons on my cardigan. “I’m new to this whole relationship thing, but my experience has been either really amazingly great or absolutely horribly bad. I don’t think there’s much of a gray area when it comes to matters of the heart.”

“That was very poetic,” Emma said, raising one eyebrow.

“You can buy the t-shirt,” I said. I tried to keep a straight face, but a tiny giggle slipped out. “I better grab a bag of chips or something before I faint from hunger.”

“Dude, I’m wallowing in my post-break up sorrow,” Emma said. “Grab me some too.”

“Sure,” I said. Emma eating greasy chips? The world really was coming to an end.

“Hurry back,” Emma said, holding up the House of Horror school flyer. “We have your revenge to plan.”

*****

After school Emma and I met back up in the media lab. I typed up the fake advertisement while Emma made a sheet of sticky labels. Later she would affix them to some small juice bottles, but for now she was making sure they looked authentic. Fortunately the labels only had to pass the scrutiny of Jay Freeman and Jared Zempter, the infamous J-team, which shouldn’t be too difficult since they both shared a brain.
A nasty, mean spirited, teensy weensy jock brain.

The final advertising flyer and labels looked amazing.

Dr. Hoppenjumper’s Virility Tonic

Become the envy of your peers. Make girls swoon and cheerleaders cheer.

Contains Dr. Hoppenjumper’s patented popularity serum.

100% money back guarantee.

Directions: Drink one cup of Dr. Hoppenjumper’s Virility Tonic as needed.

“Do you really think this will work?” I asked.

“Are you kidding?” Emma asked. “Of course this will work. There’s no way those two will pass up a chance to both steal something from you and find a way to make themselves attractive to the fairer sex. It’s the perfect trap.”

“So what do we put in the bottles?” I asked. “I don’t want to actually harm them you know.”

“Hey, I’m not totally evil,” she said with a very evil grin. “Don’t worry. No spit, roofies, or laxatives.”

“You realize those two have probably already done all three to students this year,” I said. “Not that I’m condoning it, but they do kind of deserve the same thing.”

“Yeah, well I for one don’t want to get expelled or arrested,” Emma said. “I was thinking something that tastes really, really nasty, but is actually good for them. No real guilt involved. And it’s not like we’re forcing them to drink it. They’re the ones who are going to steal the stuff.”

“Oh, no way,” I said, grinning. There was only one thing I could think of that tasted nasty enough to scar a person for life and yet was totally good for them. In fact, it even cured headaches. “You’re going to fill the bottles with your headache ease tea.”

“You know me too well,” Emma said, eyes gleaming.

“You are a totally diabolical mastermind,” I said.

We high fived and took our flyers and labels from the printer. The J-team had messed with the wrong witch. I almost felt bad for them.
Almost.

Chapter 21

After our fun in the media lab, Emma drove us out to Mr. Green Genes for veggie wraps and caffeine. The chips we binged on at lunch had faded and we both ate our wraps in minutes. Neither one of us left a crumb. Even the soggy pickles, the antithesis of crispy goodness, went the way of the dodo. Emma was still sipping her soy latte, but I grabbed another double shot mocha for the road.

I was nearly vibrating in my seat, cherry red fingernails drumming the dash, as we pulled up in front of the cabin.
Okay, maybe I had a little too much caffeine.

“Time to dance,” I said.

“More like, time to face the music,” Emma said, sighing. “I am so not in the mood to deal with Simon.”

“When are you ever?” I asked, rolling my eyes.

“Let me think,” Emma said, pretending to be deep in thought. “Oh yeah, like never.”

“You are so mean to that boy,” I said, pushing the car door open.

“Yeah well, he deserves it,” Emma said. “And he’s not exactly a boy…”

“No, I’m not,” Simon said. He appeared out of nowhere. Werewolf stealth could be
really
annoying. “I’m positively manly, though it has been said I have a boyish charm.”

Simon looked rakish in a dark suit worn over a black t-shirt.
Where had he been off to? Wasn’t he supposed to be looking after Cal?

“What’s going on?” I asked, worry creeping into my voice. “Who’s with Cal? You better not have left him alone.”

“Don’t worry, kitten,” Simon said. “He’s in the adept hands of a beautiful woman.”

I felt a flash of searing jealousy, but tamped it down.

“Last chance Simon,” Emma said. “Who is sitting with Cal? You know he needs someone with him at all times.”

“Why should I ruin the surprise?” he said. “Go on in and find out. After you.” Simon waved his arm toward the cabin door and Emma reluctantly stepped forward. He turned to me with a self satisfied grin. “Ladies first,” he said.

“No thanks,” I said, folding my arms. “You are not checking out my butt.”

“Well, you’re no fun today,” Simon said, swaggering forward.

Simon’s teasing caused me to be the last to enter the cabin. I fidgeted with the hem of my dress and nearly twisted one of the skull buttons off my cardigan before finally making it inside to face my potential rival.
Who was inside alone with Calvin?

From behind I could see a woman sitting beside Cal, her long shining hair cascading down to rest on the pillow beside his head. Her hand reached out to stroke his face and I felt a muscle jump as I clenched my jaw and fought back angry tears.
Who did this woman think she was touching Cal that way?

“Mrs.
Miller
, so good to see you again,” Emma said, glancing pointedly in my direction. “Has there been any change in Cal’s condition while we were gone?”

Oh, duh, Cal’s mom.
I felt like such a fool. Of course she would be taking turns to watch over Cal, at least until the full moon when she and her husband would have to leave town. I glared at Simon who flashed me a satisfied grin.

When Mrs. Miller turned away from Emma, I nearly gasped in surprise. Her face was lined with grief, and the worry over Cal’s condition seemed to have aged her overnight. She looked down at her hands as she addressed Emma’s question.

“Nothing has changed,” she said. “Do you…do you think he’ll wake up?”

“Absolutely,” Emma said.

“Well then, I’ll leave him in your hands,” Mrs. Miller said, standing up. “Thank you all for your help.”

“Would you like me to walk you back to the house?” Simon asked.

Oh, now he gets all gallant?

“No, but thank you Simon,” she said. “I could use a bit of fresh air.”

I mumbled goodbye, but was already moving toward the bed. Emma reached it first, but after checking Cal’s temperature and blood pressure she stepped away to let me sink onto the chair beside him. Emma and Simon moved into the kitchen, giving me a private moment with Cal. Watching the rise and fall of his chest I thought of all the things I wanted to say. Blinking back tears I leaned forward and whispered in his ear, “I love you Cal and I’m not giving up on you.” Pulling away I thought I saw the twitch of a smile.

Emma and Simon were both waiting at the kitchen counter, mugs of steaming tea in hand. Simon had shed his suit jacket and padded over to the kettle with bare feet. He came back with a mug of tea that he set down in front of me.

“What’s up with the fancy duds?” I asked.

“Pack business,” he said, shrugging.

Okay.
“Anything important?” I asked, curious.

“Cal’s dad had the paperwork drawn up regarding Emma’s scholarship, but a certain number of us had to sign off on the final financial agreement,” Simon answered. “Cal had already given his okay, but since the tax involved the entire pack he felt there should be a consensus before it could go into practice.”

“Wait,” Emma said. “Are you saying there’s going to be a werewolf tax…because of me?”

“Yes,” Simon said. He looked pained to admit Emma’s importance to the pack and I was reminded of the dominance struggle between them.

“Wow,” I said. “I knew about their promise, but I had no idea how the pack planned on raising the money. I guess I just assumed there was some wealthy werewolf benefactor.”

“You read way too many comics,” Emma said. She was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

So Emma’s wigged out too.
At least I’m not the only one.

“This is just how the pack conducts business,” Simon said. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

But I was worried and I could see that Emma had concerns of her own.

“Simon, I just have one question, and you better answer me honestly,” Emma said.

“No reason to lie,” he said, spreading his hands palm out in mock surrender.