by K M Charron
“What the hell is this—are we suddenly a charitable organization?” Sydney said even more derisively than usual.
“Enough, Sydney.” The finality in Justin’s voice was jarring but appreciated.
“Give me a break. I hardly think she needs defending.” Sydney rolled her eyes and took a sip of her latte.
Ainsley eyed Justin and smiled appreciatively. Sydney played nice for the next few minutes while Harper eagerly watched the rest of the group gossip—who’d been caught for drugs, who had cheated on whom, and who was suspiciously gaining weight—but only in the midsection.
“I don’t know for a fact, but I heard it from Marci Jenkins that Sarah Benson is totally pregnant,” Ava said a little too loudly but pretending to whisper.
They really don’t care who they hurt.
Justin turned his attention toward Harper. “Do you have a costume for the dance tomorrow?”
It took Harper a second to realize Justin was talking to her as she was a bit too preoccupied gawking at Jax. “Oh, no. I’m not really a going to dances kind of girl.”
“Oh come on, you were my best hope at getting this one on board,” he said, pointing at Ainsley.
“Oh, well, maybe. I don’t know, Ains, what do you think? I guess it could be fun,” Harper said. “When else do you get to re-enact historically accurate scenes in the location they occurred?” She began to muse to herself. “I’d have to wear my contacts. Glasses didn’t exist back then.”
Sydney didn’t miss the opportunity to pounce. “Oh, wear the glasses, Harper, it’s not like anyone will be looking at you anyway.”
Jax tossed a piece of his chocolate chip cookie at Sydney, and the protective gesture seemed to do the trick because Harper was back to batting her eyelashes at him and not at all focused on Sydney.
Ainsley supposed it was possible that a few members of the group weren’t complete jerks.
“You’re really not going?” Justin asked again, fiddling with his napkin and regarding her sheepishly.
“I don’t think it’s my scene, besides I don’t have a costume and it’s tomorrow,” she said, averting her gaze.
“I’ll help you find one,” Harper announced all too enthusiastically.
Ainsley held her hand up, a jolt of fear filled her chest at the thought. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Really.”
She was about to change the subject when she spotted Tiana, the first Ashcroft girl to make sure Ainsley knew she didn’t fit in and wasn’t wanted at the school, moving in her direction. She couldn't deal with that bitch right now, not with everything else that was going on. Luckily, Tiana didn’t make eye contact and walked right past the table. Ainsley’s twisted stomach uncurled a bit, and she exhaled audibly.
Justin leaned in, whispering, “It’s obvious you’ve got a lot on your mind. I’m worried about you. If you want, we can go somewhere quiet before afternoon classes start.” His cheeks flushed, making her feel like a horrible person. She’d rejected all his offers, and he was still trying to be helpful.
But before she could answer, Ainsley spotted Tiana for a second time. Wait. What? How could that be? She had just watched Tiana walk in from the door on the west side, not more than two minutes earlier, but now she was coming back in again from the same door? Ainsley felt like she was in slow motion. It was as if her brain were buffering.
Turning, she scanned the caf for Tiana and spotted the girl’s long red hair tied up in its usual high pony, chatting away with a few other students. Steeling herself, she looked back at the west door and spotted Tiana, standing alone across the room, staring blankly ahead. She, too, wore her hair in a high ponytail. Everything was the same from the tie, blazer, and white shirt. Ainsley’s gaze moved from one to the other and back again.
Throat thickening, Ainsley reached for her water, taking a long sip as she attempted to understand what she was seeing. Her eyes moved between the two Tiana’s a few more times.
“Um, guys, does Tiana Weber have an identical twin?”
Everyone stopped talking, and Langston and Jax both answered with a definitive, “No.”
Sydney regarded her suspiciously. “Why?”
A hot pricking sensation started at Ainsley’s neck and moved down her body. She recognized it as pure, panicky adrenaline. Two versions of Tiana were in the same room. She could see them both from her seat.
“Are you sure?” she asked again, willing their answer to be different. She’d even embrace an I don’t know.
Khourtney narrowed her eyes at Ainsley. “No, she doesn’t have any siblings. Why do you keep asking?”
It was as if Ainsley had no control of her body. She stood, staring at the Tiana by the doorway. To her surprise, that Tiana was staring back at her. Khourt and Justin looked in the same direction, but a few students had stopped in front of them, blocking her from their view.
Leaping from her seat, Ainsley started toward the door. She spotted a flash of red hair fleeing. Tiana loved confrontation and had certainly never missed an opportunity to go at Ainsley before. Ainsley ran in this Tiana’s direction.
“Where are you going?” Harper called out, but there was no time to answer.
Ainsley made it to the doorway. She saw red curls about twenty feet away and sprinted after them. Groups of students were walking every which way, blocking her path and slowing her down. “Move!” she ordered. But by the time she had scraped through the hoards and got to the door that led out to the yard, there was no sign of Tiana.
“Shit.”
She ran her hands roughly through her hair. What was happening to her? Backing out of the crowd, she leaned against the wall and tried to steady her breathing and her shaking hands. She didn’t know what was real anymore. Everything had been fine before she’d come to Ashcroft. Sure, her dad was gone, and her grief was still crushing at times, but she hadn’t had hallucinations before coming here.
All these strange things started happening here—the note with Justin’s name in the heart popping up from her desk, the whacked-out abandoned hallway, the strange underground room complete with occult symbols, the eviscerated animal corpses, the freaking kid falling into the fountain and completely disappearing. And now what… A doppelgänger?
Ainsley felt like she was on drugs. None of this could be real. The continued rush of adrenaline made her arms and legs tingle, and the idea of a cult didn’t seem as far off suddenly. What if there was one controlling more of Ashcroft than she’d considered? What if some of the staff or students around her were involved?
Ainsley needed to find out, and as much as she hated the idea, the dance would give her the perfect cover. Maybe she could even sneak off and snoop, since she’d be disguised in a costume, and poke around parts of the school and campus she hadn’t explored yet. Something here was connected to the missing girls—her dad had been convinced of that.
After an early dinner, Ainsley and Harper grabbed a bus into downtown Danvers from Ashcroft—well, what constituted its downtown. It was a small town, its center just a few streets of restaurants and small specialty shops.
Ainsley looked out the bus window during the short ride and watched the people going about their normal lives. She was so detached from the rest of the world at Ashcroft. It was as if she’d snuck into a pristine bubble of privilege that really wasn’t hers to inhabit. And it wasn’t. She was an imposter, there to do a job.
The girls got off in front of a café and bookstore—two of her favorite things.
“Latte?” she smiled? “I could use a little pick me up. I’m running on fumes.” Ainsley gazed up at the sign and laughed, “Gallows Coffee. Really? Isn’t that a bit morbid?”
Harper shrugged and opened the door. “Most places here are named after something related to the Witch Trials. It’s part of the tourist attraction thing. People like it.”
The inside was cute and rustic, featuring natural wood and earth tones and adorned with kitschy witch decorations, everything from prints to statues.
“They really
do this place up for Halloween,” Ainsley said admiringly.
Harper smiled and picked up a vanilla scone from the counter. “This is how it always looks.”
Now it was Ainsley’s turn to smile. A rack with maps of Danvers and the surrounding townships was on the counter. She picked one and gave her money to the barista, slipping the folded paper into her bag.
They grabbed their drinks and headed back outside. “So, where’s the best place to find a costume? They’ve probably been picked through already. We’ll end up with the scraps.”
The air was crisp and mingled the smell of dried leaves with the scent of fresh bread from the bakery down the block. Ainsley was glad she’d worn a scarf over her jean jacket.
“Come on.” Harper grabbed Ainsley’s arm with her free hand and pulled her down the road. “We have two hours before most of the stores close.”
They walked the rest of the block, strolling past a cooking store, a pet supply store, a toy store, and Harper’s favorite oddity, a store that sold nothing but yarn. Harper pointed enthusiastically. “They have knitting needles, pattern books, buttons, and other fabrics.” She spoke with such enthusiasm that Ainsley could barely refrain from mocking her.
Ainsley’s smile widened to a beaming grin. “You’re such a nerd. I love you.”
The store next to it was called The Raven’s Eye Apothecary. Ainsley peeked through the large window and saw shelves full of candles, books, art prints, figurines, and tiny statues—mostly of goddesses, ravens, and crows—and colored crystals that looked like bath salts. The door was cracked open, and she could smell lavender and vanilla. “Let’s go inside. It smells amazing.” She pushed the door the rest of the way, triggering a strip of tinkling bells.
There was a lot more to the store than she first saw—odd things. The shelves in the back held dried herbs, small bottles filled with various tinctures, and a few glass containers that appeared to have chicken’s feet floating in water. “Ew, what’s this?”
Harper inspected the containers more closely, even picking one up and turning it on its side. The soft pink glass showed a mixture of flower petals floating inside. The label said Love Charm. “A lot of the shops have stuff like this. We’re in Old Salem Village, remember? People eat this stuff up. They’ll look for any lazy way to solve their problems.”
A woman who looked to be in her forties, with long black hair and equally dark eyes, approached them. “Ah, a love potion. He or she won’t be able to resist you with that,” she said with a silky voice. She wore a flowered, purple dress that seemed to float around her.
Ainsley bit her lip to keep from laughing.
“Oh, no.” Harper shook her head and carefully replaced the bottle on the shelf. “I was just looking.”
“We’re all drawn to certain things,” the woman declared. “Something made you pick up that bottle. I wouldn’t discount its power so quickly if I were you.” The woman smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
“We’re just browsing,” Ainsley said. “I smelled the essential oils from outside. They’re lovely.”
“I’m Mirabeth, the owner. Come, let me show you some.”
Ainsley shrugged, not wanting to be rude, and followed her over to a display that had a bunch of vials sitting in front of a diffuser. The woman retrieved one labeled Lavender and popped off the lid. “May I?” She held her hand out and gestured for Ainsley’s wrist. “All of these oils have healing properties, and some are used as perfume as well. Putting the oil on the inside of the wrist helps to determine if you’ll like the way the scent works with your body’s natural chemistry.”
Ainsley held out her wrist, and the woman cradled it gently before abruptly dropping it and taking a hurried step back. She gasped, her countenance transforming into one of shock and horror.
Ainsley’s eyes widened, and she held her wrist in her other hand, having felt a surge of energy flow through it. “What was that?” Not allowing her gaze to drop from the woman’s, she inched back. “When you touched me, that was more than a static-electric shock.”
The woman’s shadowy eyes narrowed further. “What are you?” she asked in a low, slow, resolute voice.
A swell of nausea swept over Ainsley at the question. The fact that Jax had asked her basically the same thing was disconcerting, to say the least. “I’m a student, at Ashcroft,” she clarified. Ainsley noticed Harper glancing between them, looking just as confused.
The woman had a frantic look on her face and unexpectedly jutted forward, gripping both of Ainsley’s hands in hers. She squeezed, her icy hands clamping down, hurting Ainsley. She stared deeply into Ainsley’s eyes. “Oh, no. This is not good. Not good at all.” The woman closed her eyes suddenly as if doing a psychic reading.
Ainsley yanked her hands away, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts. “What’s not good? You’re scaring me.”
“Something bad is going to happen. Darkness. Fear. Danger. Death. You must be careful, my dear.”
A chill went the length of Ainsley’s spine, and her heartbeat quickened. “I’ve recently lost someone who was very close. Maybe you’re sensing that?”
“Perhaps. But I still think you should be very cautious, Ainsley.”
She sucked in a breath. “How, how do you know my name?”
The woman rested her hands at her sides but remained attentive and fixated on her. “It is my gift, or curse, in this life. I see things, some wondrous, others most unpleasant. Take heed of my warnings. Danger is coming.”
“That’s enough,” Harper cried, hooking her hand around Ainsley’s upper arm and pulling her toward the exit.
Chapter 8
Sydney
October 31
Sydney more than resented the fact that there was a special magical ceremony going on in the coven Nest tonight, and the only apprentices allowed in were the fourth and fifth years, which meant she had two more years to go. Witches from a few other sects, specifically London, Cape Town, and Vancouver, were going to be in attendance—extra special guests.
The Directive liked the different groups to entertain the other covens occasionally. They said it was a way to keep communications open and foster good relationships between the powerful witching communities, but Sydney knew it wasn’t so innocent. It was all about keeping a watchful eye on what the individual covens were up to, especially since the Peace Treaty had only been in effect for twenty years.
While Sydney and her friends donned ridiculous costumes that mocked the memory of actual, murdered witches, the rest of her coven were engaging in some spectacular, albeit secret, ritual.
The veil between the living and dead was thinnest on All Hallows’ Eve or as the witches referred to it—by its proper name: Samhain. On this evening, the veil was so thin that spirits pass between the two worlds effortlessly. The ancestors were honored on Samhain for their contributions, and harmful spirits that tried to cross over were warded off. Traditionally, bonfires and banquets of lavish food capped off the festivities, and she suspected that was what was happening in the Nest this evening.
Sydney knew she should be practicing her proficiencies on a night like tonight, but the headmistress informed them that all apprentice witches not in the Nest were to attend the dance. It was another way for her mother to keep tabs on them, via her favorite minion.
Sydney held up her dress in the mirror. At least she’d look cute with the slight modifications she’d made. Langston hadn’t been thrilled about his costume, but if he wanted to be her date, he’d wear what she told him to. Besides, he looked adorable in his floppy little hat, cape, and neck ruffle. Ava was finishing up the last touches on her costume, and Khourtney was adding yet more glitter to her hair.
“I don’t want to be finding that shit on my stuff in June,” she snarled. “And in case you forgot, no seventeenth-century Puritan wore glitter, Khourtney. You’re cleaning that up.” Sydney could always use magic to get rid of it, but it was more fun to boss Khourt around.
“What, like th
is?” Khourtney stared at Syd, wide-eyed and innocent, and dumped half a container of gold glitter all over the bathroom floor before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God, you should see your face. Calm down.” With a wave of her hand, the tiny sparkling flecks rose up from the floor and funneled back into the bottle. “See, all better.”
Ava sauntered into the bathroom and leaned over the sink to apply another layer of peach blush. “Magic is easier, but it’s so much fun to do this the middling way, don’t you think?”
Taking out her mascara, Syd applied another coat. “Whatever. I can’t believe you don’t mind being excluded from the coven tonight. You know they’re doing something really cool. It’s a magical holiday for crying out loud. They get a gala with gorgeous gowns, and we get polyester bonnets and aprons.”
Her thoughts drifted to the dead crows. Nothing else odd had happened in over a week. Maybe she’d overreacted. Despite what Oswald said, she still had no proof that she and Ainsley had actually released anything from that room. No one had reported anything out of the ordinary. It was possible she’d been stressed out over nothing. She needed a night of fun.
They finished up and hurried to the elevators. Langston, Justin, and Jax were waiting for them in the girls’ cafeteria.
“Well, don’t you ladies look interesting,” Justin said and burst into laughter. “Seriously, you all look great—if Puritans wore their dresses that short and tight. And Syd, you’ve outdone yourself, although I don’t remember anyone wearing a crown at the witch trials.”
Sydney pretended to straighten the ornate gold crown atop her head even though she knew it was perfectly centered. “What can I say? I am magical royalty, after all.” She blew Justin a kiss and smiled. It was nice to see him laughing again, to have him look at her like she was his best friend and not the enemy. It had been too long; it had been since Ainsley had arrived.