Read T*Witches: Dead Wrong Online
Authors: Randi Reisfeld,H.B. Gilmour
T*Witches: Dead Wrong
T*Witches:
Dead Wrong
H.B. Gilmour
& Randi Reisfeld
© 2002, 2012 H.B. Gilmour and Randi Reisfeld
All rights reserved.
First published by Scholastic in 2002.
Chapter Seven: Trouble at the Trailer
Chapter Eight: The Dark Side of Coventry
Chapter Nine: Snakes and Stooges
Chapter Eleven: The Truth Inducer
Chapter Twelve: An Uncle in Evan’s Clothing
Chapter Thirteen: A Promise Kept
Chapter Fourteen: Ancestral Voices
Chapter Fifteen: The Avalanche
Camryn Barnes looked up from the window seat, where she’d been doing her homework. It was just past three in the afternoon and the winter sky was already darkening. “Could you stop that? You’re getting on my nerves,” she called to her sister.
“Didn’t know you had any,” Alex snapped back. She was on the computer, the PC she shared with Cam, in the bedroom she shared with Cam, sitting on the ergonomically correct computer chair that had formerly been Cam’s alone, trying to focus on a writing assignment she wished was Cam’s. It wasn’t that big a deal. A book report. Still, Alex was having a hard time concentrating.
“And just what am I doing that’s upsetting your delicate balance?”
“Obsessing,” Cam answered, adjusting the scrunchie that held her gleaming auburn hair in a ponytail.
“Excuse me?” Offended, Alex spun on the computer chair to face her so-called identical twin. At this very moment, Cam was all pink sweater set and skinny bootlegs while Alex was in wrinkled flannel and side-striped sweats. Cam was Galleria Girl, fashion forward, while Alex was content to recycle her Crow Creek, Montana, threads. Identical? She thought not. One look would tell anybody how unalike they were. And just to prove it, Alex had recently bleached her spiky short hair platinum blond with pale green streaks.
“We cannot go to Montana for winter break,” Cam said. “We already have other plans.”
“Yo, no trespassing,” Alex said angrily. “I am sooo sorry I ever taught you how to break into my mind. And I wasn’t obsessing. I was just thinking about that disgusting weasel, Ike —”
Isaac Fielding, or Ike, was the creep Alex’s mom had been married to at the time of Alex’s adoption. He was part of the package, just one of two toxic things that came with Sara. Like the cigarettes that had killed her, Ike was poisonous and cost way too much. He had disappeared when Alex was in grade school, taking all of
Sara’s money and leaving a pile of debts she could never pay off.
Now he was back.
Now, months after Sara’s death, just when Alex had finally agreed to become the legal ward of David and Emily Barnes, the trustworthy twosome who’d reared Cam. Now, when Cam’s adoptive parents were in the final stages of becoming Alexandra Fielding’s legal guardians.
Dave was a lawyer, Emily an interior designer. They lived in a classy neighborhood in the cutesy town of Marble Bay, Massachusetts. And they’d already filed the papers requesting guardianship. Nothing stood in their way — except, suddenly, Ike.
Drawn by the smell of money, like a rat to cheese, Ike had crept out of his hiding place and was hungry for handouts. By way of a lawyer’s letter, Mr. Isaac Fielding was challenging the Barneses’ petition for guardianship, claiming that he, as Alex’s adoptive father, was her legal custodian.
Cam was right. Alex had been obsessing. She’d found out that Ike had recently been seen around Crow Creek. And Alex couldn’t get the idea out of her head that she ought to visit her old Montana hometown and have a little chat with Daddy Dearest —
“Face it. A
chat
is so not what you’re itching to
have,” Cam announced, startling Alex again. “And BTW, sista, you didn’t teach me how to read your mind. It’s just one of the fabulous gifts and prizes I get for being your T’Witch,” using their shorthand for Twin Witch. “And one that I sometimes wish I could turn off. Like tonight!” Cam rolled her eyes and sighed. “Well, could you at least hold it down? I mean, think your revenge thoughts a little more quietly. I’ve got a final tomorrow —”
“And I’ve got this dumb book report to do.” Alex turned back to the computer, determined to forget about Icky Ike for now.
The minute she put him out of her mind, in came Cade.
No fair, Alex thought. She didn’t want to think about Cade Richman, either. What was the use? Of course, the hottie was everything Ike wasn’t — young, handsome, smart, honest, loyal, lovable. Cade, the coolest thing that had happened to Alex since she’d landed in Marble Bay, had only one thing in common with Ike. He’d left her, too.
Okay, it wasn’t personal. Cade’s father had moved the family to Paris two weeks ago.
Alex supposed there was some comfort in knowing that Cam was going through similar stuff. The hunk her sister was crushed on — though Cam would probably classify it as a mere “crush-ette” and think of herself as
more “like-sick” than “lovesick” — was gone, too. Shane, the young warlock who’d helped them a few weeks back, had returned to Coventry Island, home of many witches and warlocks of all ages.
Of course, Cam still had Marble Bay High’s tall, dark, and handsome hottie Jason to cheer her up.
Alex glanced at her sister sitting on the window seat, focused on her book. If Cam could do it, she could, too. Forget Cade. Ditto for Ike. Alex sighed. Just concentrate on the assignment, she told herself.
She was surprisingly successful — for about five minutes, or until the computer sang out, “You’ve got mail.”
The message was from Lucinda. Lucinda Carmelson. Evan Fretts and Lucinda were Alex’s best friends back in Montana. Correction: They were her best friends in the world!
Evan arrested? Not possible. They’d hung together through grade school and beyond — through Ike’s disappearance, and Lucinda’s dad getting laid off work, and Evan’s mom’s drinking binges. And though they didn’t act cool or dress hot like most of the kids at school, Ev
and Luce were smart, decent, and honest. So what could Evan have possibly done to get suspended and arrested? What kind of “big trouble” could he have gotten into?
Alex turned to glance at Cam again. She was still curled up on the window seat. Her homework rested in her lap as she stared out at the wintry sky, frosty gray now with the threat of snow.
“Camryn,” Alex called to her. “Come here. Look at this e-mail from Lucinda.”
No answer.
Was Susie Sunshine being moody? She had to have heard Alex. She was just across the room. Okay, so their bedroom was big — nearly big enough to hold the dinky trailer Alex and Sara had called home after Ike split — but it wasn’t so huge that Cam couldn’t hear her. For some reason, Alex decided, her sister was ignoring her.
Was the girl going hormonal? That would be so unlike Cam the Perfect, Cam the Placid.
Okay, then Alex would answer Luce’s 911. Without her twin’s input.
We’ll be there
, she wrote back.
We have a long weekend coming up. We’ll come the day after tomorrow.
With an uneasy glance at Cam, Alex double-clicked
SEND.
Her e-mail vanished into cyberspace, speeding to the Crow Creek Public Library, where Lucinda’s message had originated.
“I told Lucinda we’d go to Montana on our break,” Alex tried again.
But Cam was still gazing out the window. Looking clueless. And cold.
As Alex watched, her sister began to shiver. She hugged herself and rocked back and forth, her eyes unfocused, looking inward.
“Cam?” Alex called tentatively. “Cami, what are you staring at?” Suddenly, Alex realized what was happening. “What are you seeing?” she whispered. But it was useless to question Cam when she was in this state. Clearly, she was having a vision — one of the vivid, visual premonitions she’d had all her life.
Cam’s sight — like Alex’s hearing and sense of smell — was honed, hyper, over-the-top. While Alex could hear a leaf drop miles away, Cam could see it. She could also picture the leaf plummeting before it took the plunge — sometimes minutes before, sometimes days. Alex could move things — just by imagining that leaf lodging in someone’s hair, she could make it stick there. And Cam’s combustible eyes could light it up.
What was Sister Sizzler seeing now?
“Your friend,” Cam said now in a hoarse, spooky voice. She wasn’t fully “awake” yet. “The boy from Montana. Evan. He’s in trouble.”
“Give me news, not history,” Alex said. “That’s
why I told Lucinda we’d be going to Crow Creek for the break.”
“That’s why you what?!” Cam was wide awake now, wincing from the post-premonition headache she usually had after a vision. “We can’t go to Montana!”
“Tell me about it,” Alex said. “Your vision, I mean. What did you see?”
“Evan. I think.” Cam closed her eyes, remembering. She had met Evan only once. “He looked different, but I got this vibe that it was him. He was someplace cold and familiar. It was a weird place that we’d been to before. But it looked empty, except for Evan and two other boys. There was a woman with them, too. A big woman dressed in black. She was shivering and crying.” Cam shuddered at the memory. “The boys were bad, Alex. I mean, there was a darkness around them, an inky aura. They were trying to hand Evan this … this … red container. I don’t know what it was. Something dangerous. One of them, with, like, bad teeth and this evil grin, was saying, ‘You got to. It’s too late now.’ And Evan kept pushing whatever it was away, going, ‘No. No way, man. No.’”
“And then what happened?” Alex urged.
“Then someone said, ‘Cami, what are you staring at?’”
“Um, that was me,” Alex confessed.
“Double duh.” Cam rolled her extraordinary gray eyes. “And speaking of no way. No way are we going to
Crow Creek. We’ve already got plans. We’re going to Brianna’s birthday bash. Her dad’s flying in from L.A. and throwing this monster blowout for her. And he’s rented a whole floor in one of the best hotels in Boston, so we can all hang together —”
Brianna Waxman was one of Cam’s best friends. Brianna’s father, Alex had heard, was this big-shot movie producer. He was always breaking promises to Bree, backing out of their plans, and having his assistants handle his daughter’s personal phone calls and requests.
“Well, yeah.” Cam was back in the mind-reading business. “He’s canceled on every appointment he’s ever made with Bree. I hope he doesn’t bail on this one. Not now.”
Alex made a face. “Whatever. Bree only invited
me
because you made her.”
“Big whoop. We have to stick together, don’t we?”
“Do we?” Alex asked skeptically.
“Hello,” Cam said, lifting her gold sun charm and zipping it back and forth on its delicate chain.
Automatically, Alex clutched its mate, the half-moon necklace she was wearing.
Both charms had been made by their blood father, Aron, a brilliant young warlock who’d supposedly been murdered by his brother Thantos the day Alex and Cam were born.
Nothing weird about us, though, Alex thought. Just your basic identical twins who were separated at birth to prevent their evil uncle from continuing his killing spree.
“We need to stick together,” Cam said again. “Our mojo, our magick, is stronger when we do, and way stronger when the necklaces connect.”
“So that’s why you wanted me along?” Alex raised an eyebrow at her twin. “Why not just take my moon charm? It would be way cheaper for Brianna’s rich daddy.”
“That’s not the only reason —” Cam protested.
“Well, I’m not going,” Alex announced. “And neither are you. We’re witches, remember? We’re supposed to help those in trouble. And that does not include those in trouble because they have only two hands and twelve shopping bags like Brianna Waxman.”
Cam frowned. “Lose the sarcasm, Alex. Something’s going on with her — something bad. I don’t know what it is exactly, but I can sense it. I just have this feeling that disappointing her is not what we want to do right now.”
“So we have to spend our break trailing after Bree and watching her max out her daddy’s credit cards? Cam, listen.” Alex shifted gears from sarcastic to serious. “My creepy stepdad — the one who’s fighting your folks in court, the slimeball who could ruin our chances of staying together — is probably back in Crow Creek.”
Cam reconsidered. She’d never before imagined Ike winning — or considered the consequences.
“You said we had to stick together,” Alex reminded her. “Well, one, if Ike Fielding wins his court case, we won’t be able to. And two, I’m definitely going to Montana. Not just to help Evan, who’s been my true-blue bud since grade school, but to find out what Ike really wants — which is not now and has never been me. I’ve got to change his mind … by any means necessary,” Alex added pointedly.
“Including witchcraft.” Cam got the point.
“Times two,” Alex said.
Say yes. Do it, Cam thought to herself, remembering how even her best friend, Beth Fish, let alone Bree, could never in a million years understand how it felt to know you were radically different from every other kid you knew. Until, one day, you met someone who not only looked exactly like you, but knew, firsthand, what you felt, thought, feared, and were.
“Okay, I want to go with you,” Cam acknowledged. “I’m in. But they’ll never let us —”
“Who, Emily and Dave?”
Cam nodded. She was still uneasy about calling her parents — or at least the couple she had believed for fourteen years were her bio’rents — by their first names.
“They will.” Alex’s gray eyes glinted with mischief.
“Trust me. When I’m done, they’ll
insist
we go to Montana.”
“Oh, no. You’re scheming and scrambling your thoughts so I can’t possibly read and reject them. What are you going to do?” Cam demanded. “Tell me!”
“I just have to check out one little thing with Mrs. Bass at the Crow Creek Library,” Alex said, turning back to the computer. “You know her.”
“Only through e-mail,” Cam reminded her sister. “What’s she got to do with it?”
“Well, who do you think Emily and Dave would rather have us spend the break with — Eric Waxman, a Hollywood producer who showed up at the Academy Awards with a starlet dressed in spray-on graffiti, or Doris Bass, my surrogate mother, a mature, highly respected, small-town librarian?”
“Duh,” said Cam. “Can I poll the audience?”