Deadly Darlings (October Darlings Book 2)

by Wendolyn Baird

  Soon enough, we reach Tomas’ building, and with a nod and a low voice, he says, “I’m sorry about blurting things out. I thought Sabrina knew about everything with the way you talked last time. If you have time though, I’d like to get together and talk about what’s really going. We might be able to take this thing down together.”

  He doesn’t say what I’m already worried about. What I know must terrify him too, by the way he stares at me and glances at the birds for reassurance. By working together, he can keep an eye on me. I’m not only an asset; I’m the bait.

  “Uhm, yeah. Maybe. We’ll talk soon.”

  Scurrying after my friends, I leave him alone in the growing shadows. It’s not until Sabrina’s breaths have finally evened out and our dorm room is sturdily latched from both the hall and the bathroom, that I get a chance to pull out my tea light candles.

  “Marlowe? I really need some help here.”

  “You spilled the beans, didn’t you?” Marlowe guesses. With her transparent arms crossed in exasperation, she sits back in a non-existent chair.

  “Don’t talk to me like that,” I moan. “I called you and not someone else because I didn’t want to deal with lectures.” Or worry Delia; not when she’s barely beginning to bounce back since my dad died.

  “Of course, you did,” she sighs. “You know, I sort of miss when you called me just to talk. How’s Ellis doing? Y’all are still together, right? I miss him coming over. Sabrina too.” Marlowe glances at my roommate’s sleeping form. “Even if she is a little blunt sometimes.”

  Sabrina has the bad habit of talking about my ghostly relatives as if they aren't in the room when she speaks. Which of course, Sabrina has no idea whether they are, so in her mind... they aren't. Still, she usually talks before she thinks, and it’s earned her a bit of a reputation around Nix House.

  “Ellis is fine,” I tell her impatiently. “But yes, I told someone about being a clairvoyant. But in my defense, they already sort of knew. It’s actually really creepy. Have you ever heard of gallowbirds?”

  “Heard of what, now?” Marlowe asks, her expression completely blank.

  Sighing, I sit back on the floor and hug my knees to my chest. The cool, autumn air leaves a fog against the glass of the window, and the faint moonlight that filters in, is far from comforting tonight.

  “Never mind,” I mumble. “Tell me what’s going on at home. I miss everyone.”

  Marlowe complies, launching into a few descriptions of Delia’s recent painting endeavors and a cake decorating disaster that happened when she convinced Sabrina’s mother to come over for a lesson. Haunted houses, it seems, even one as filled with loving spirits as ours is, aren’t usually appreciated by the living. Mrs. Thomas was no exception to that rule.

  An ache grows over the worry in my chest, and by the time I say goodnight to my cousin and blow out the candles, I’m left with a homesickness that leaves me dreaming of a small cemetery and a cozy bakery.

  Chapter Six

  WHAT AM I DOING HERE? I should be driving home to Nix House instead of marching up this sidewalk. My stomach is churning, and the feel of the bright October sun isn't nearly warm enough.

  The tall, ivy-covered house in front of me has a sagging porch and a patched roof that rests dubiously beneath a towering oak tree. It’s apparent the building is sectioned into separate apartments, and from the hastily scrawled address Ramona had given me, I’m at the right place. There’s a grinning jack-o’-lantern plopped in the front window, and several fake spiders dangle above the door.

  But the most prominent feature that draws my attention is the massive stone bird bath in the right side of the yard, directly in front of Ramona’s door. A good dozen grackles are spread out between the bath and the yellowed grass, their golden eyes fixating on me as I approach.

  A group of crows is a murder. A group of grackles is a plague. Well, plague, here I come.

  Ringing the doorbell, I tuck my paper with the address into my back pocket and tap on the top of Frank’s head. He slowly looks at me, blinks twice languidly, and then returns to his previous position posing as a bracelet on my wrist. Yeah, he’s a great support system. I wish he could talk, maybe toss out a reassuring cliche from time to time... something.

  I’m twisting at my opal pendant when the door swings open, and Ramona, with her hair piled into a knot at the top of her head and dressed in a long-sleeved, velvet dress, motions me in. In front of me lies a cramped living room, covered wall to wall in artwork, and dripping with print-outs of constellations and newspaper articles. A faded loveseat is squashed in one corner, a beat-up old trunk doubles as a coffee table, and the muffled bass lines of a psychobilly band trickles from a room down the hallway that juts off the kitchenette just beyond a narrow card table.

  “Thanks for coming,” Ramona says. “Sorry for all the hush hush factor, I’m sure you must half hate me by now.”

  “I mean, honestly? Beyond the stalking, manipulative, shoving me in a hedge bit.. I’m actually kind of relieved to have met you. Ever since my gift kicked in, it’s been pretty lonely. My best friend forgets the downsides of it, and my boyfriend... he’s so radiantly normal, I’m surprised he puts up with me.” My mouth twitches as I shift my shoulders and clear my throat. “But anyway! Uhm, I’m here for answers, so, let’s get down to it!”

  Ramona blushes and smoothes her hair back. “I’m assuming Tomas already told you what we are, right?”

  I nod. “Gallowbirds. Although, to tell you the truth, I’m still not completely sure about what that means. The shifting, I get. But how does killing a spirit work? I mean, without the use of some kind of spell?” I cover Frank with my opposite hand,

  Ramona drops onto the loveseat, shoves a few papers off the trunk/coffee table, and offers me a seat. “Where to start?” She asks herself.

  I perch in front of her, uncomfortably trying to avoid the rest of the papers as I place my hands at my sides.

  “You get your power over spirits from your bloodline, right?”

  “Yup. Pretty much how it goes.” I grimace with a shrug. Something I didn’t mind so much after I got used to it... but with the dark presence on campus, I’m stuck back at square one.

  “Okay,” Ramona nods enthusiastically, “we’re the same way. Way back when, some of our relatives were earth-based magic users, but they craved more freedom. They wanted to take to the skies, so they traded their power to the god of darkness. Or anyway, that’s what our grandmother always claimed. In exchange, we were able to take a form that can cross the veil between the realms and back.”

  “The birds, you mean.” Nodding again, I move the papers out of the way in a further effort to get comfortable.

  “Exactly. But because we’re indebted to the dark, we have to collect fees for him if we’re to stay alive.”

  “Wait, you’re telling me there’s some creepy deity telling you to pay rent on your time on earth?”

  Ramona shrugs and raises her eyebrows. “That’s how the story goes, but honestly, at this point, it’s all just genetic drive. More specifically, we’re drawn to the souls of the corrupted in order to take them down. If we don’t, well, I’ve got a bunch of relatives that eventually had mental breakdowns. Which makes sense. A person can only turn into an enormous raven so many times before you start questioning the validity of it all. It’s better to have a purpose in life and all that.”

  “So, you’re telling me, you’re forced to be ghost hunters or else you go mad?” I sum up, trusting my voice to remain neutral, but shaken to my core. And here I was feeling bad for myself...

  “Exactly and unfortunately, yes. Which is where you come in!” Ramona claps her hands and grins at me, revealing a row of crowded teeth. “Another set of eyes, and someone who can stun a spirit long enough for us to dispatch? It’s perfect! Especially if your friends don’t know how to handle this side of your life.”

  “Hold up,” I argue. “What makes you think this is perfect for me? I like my friends, and yeah, even if
they don’t fully understand what I’m going through, that doesn’t mean they don’t care.”

  “No, I’m sure they do,” Ramona amends. “But can they handle living in your world? Can you honestly say that being in your life won’t hurt them?”

  Feeling like she's punched me in the gut, I wrap my arms defensively around my middle and swallow back the nausea that threatens to overtake me.

  “I only ask because I know my friends couldn’t. My girlfriend almost drowned because she followed me out to a lake one night and fell off the dock. It was pitch black and she thought I was leading her back to the road... but it was this awful apparition that just wanted to hurt her. If I hadn’t gotten to her in time...” Ramona trails off, her pale eyes downcast.

  Haven’t I been there before? When Sabrina, and then George ended up in the bottom of a well because of me? When I insisted Ellis jump with me to save them? I put them all in danger, and Ellis the most. If anything had happened to them... would I have been able to live with myself?

  From the look on Ramona’s face, I know she wouldn’t have been able to.

  “Okay,” I finally say, breaking the depressing pause between us. “But here’s the thing. One, friends don’t lie to, or stalk each other. So, that’s got to stop... now. And two, I kind of hate the idea of ghost hunting. I’m actually trying this whole, ghost-free freshman year thing.”

  “Really? And how’s that working for you?” Ramona quips. “From what my friends told me; you had already noticed our courtyard problem before I got you talking to Tomas. And things just got trickier after that. From my reckoning, you don’t have a choice anymore.” She tilts her head to the side and smiles sympathetically.

  “See, no, that! I hate that!” I snap, pointing at her. “No more manipulative crap! If you want me and Tomas in the same room, just make dinner plans. Don’t lie to get us in the same place. And on that subject, for crying out loud, what is up with you and your brother?”

  Now it’s Ramona’s turn to scowl. “Nothing. He’s just,” she sighs, “so serious, and boring, and never gives anyone a chance. And if I suggest a new friend, he’s automatically against whoever I like. He just needed a push to meet you somewhere organically.”

  “You mean I needed a push,” I correct her wryly.

  “Sorry about that,” she mumbles, surprisingly apologetic this time. “Truce?”

  “Drop your spies and lies, and you’ve got a deal.” I smile at her, relief filling my chest.

  “Great! Then let’s get to work!”

  Spreading out several of the news articles, she shows me that a good majority of them are about Blackwood students who had gone missing nearly two decades prior. A few outliers exist beyond that timeline, there doesn’t seem to be a pattern as to when or why.

  “The half-told ghost story Tomas was telling Sabrina about is true,” I murmur as I study the pixelated portraits.

  “We’re dealing with a particularly scary feeling ghost, and any one of these missing students could be it. And worse yet, from the looks of things, you’re its prey.” Ramona sighs heavily. “I just can't figure out why.”

  “Tomas did,” I admit. “I thought he’d already told you since you seem to know everything else. Anyway, he thinks the problem is that I’m not just a clairvoyant, I’m part witch.” To illustrate my claim, I raise my wrist and point out Frank’s sleeping form.

  “Well, crap.” She runs a hand through the top of her hair just like I’ve seen her brother do, and shaking her head, collapses against the back of the small sofa. “Talk about unlucky.”

  “You’re telling me.” I roll my eyes and purse my lips. I mean, it can be lucky at times, but having it reconfirmed that there’s a ghostly murderer after me? Yeah, no, definitely unlucky.

  “I’ve got to say, you’re taking this news remarkably well.”

  “It’s not the first time I’ve had a demon after me.” I try to shrug it off, but there's no denying the icy grip of fear sliding down my spine. “I’ll live.”

  Hopefully.

  My phone rings before we get much further, and it’s Ellis, out of work early.

  “No, I was just running some errands” I fib. “Give me maybe fifteen minutes to get back to campus and we’ll head out. I need some marranitos and I’m sure your brother has been dying to see you.” Not that I get along with Ellis’ brother Owen at all, but we’ve been talking about visiting for a couple of weeks now. Besides, I really do want to see my aunt, and there’s no way I’m leaving Ellis behind on campus with a violent ghost creeping about.

  “Actually,” I add, and Ramona watches me sadly, “tell Sabrina to get ready to go too. I know she’ll be game.”

  When I hang up, Ramona is staring frowning at me pityingly.

  “What?” I stare at her, unnerved and annoyed.

  “You’re going to have to make a choice, you know.”

  “A choice about what?” I sigh.

  “About who you love more. You or them?”

  A new kind of chill seizes a hold of me, and I stomp out without another word to her. I just can’t anymore.

  Halfway down the walk, I literally run into Tomas coming home from what appears to have been a bookstore. Several paperbacks fall from his arms and we bump heads as we both jump to gather them, leaving me cursing on the sidewalk and Tomas staring at me in confusion.

  “Addie?” He exclaims. “What are you doing here?”

  Rubbing my forehead, I scramble to my feet, brushing the loose dirt from my palms as I move. One brave bird hops forward, his iridescent head glinting purple in the sun.

  “Uhm, your sister is in my writing class and she invited me over. We just started talking a bit more about your family and the entire shifter thing.”

  “Oh.” His cheekbones splotch pink again, and he takes the books I’d gathered gingerly. “That.”

  “Yeah. So, uhm, yeah. I guess we’re going to work together on this ghost thing.”

  Instead of getting excited like his sister, Tomas’ first reaction is to jerk back. “How are you going to do that without your friends knowing?”

  My friends, my friends! Is that all anyone is going to talk about today?

  “I don’t know.” I sniff. “I’ll just have to figure it out. Anyway, uhm, I’m late. See you.”

  Running the rest of the way to my car, I startle several grackles into flight, and if Tomas says anything in response, I don’t hear him over their cackling.

  PULLING UP TO THE FAMILIAR bakery at the crest of Main Street an hour later, I park at the curb and wave to Norma, my aunt’s assistant manager, as she sweeps the sidewalk. A couple of quaint, wire tables sit just in front of the shop’s entrance, and Delia’s painted a mix of pumpkins and candy corns along the edges of the wide windows.

  “Hey Norma,” I call as I clamber out of my car. Her bold lipstick is as impeccable as ever, but her bright yellow apron is smeared with icing and sprinkles. She must be on cupcake duty today.

  “Adeline!” She gushes, setting the broom to the side. “Oh, it’s so good to see you. Did you tell your aunt you were coming?”

  “No, I wanted to surprise her.” I accept the side hug that Norma insists on, and sidle into the bakery. Ellis is already on his way to the grill with his brother, and Mrs. Thomas met us at a gas station just outside town because Uriah and Trevor, Sabrina's younger siblings, couldn’t wait to see her.

  The smell of ginger and chocolate greet me as a rush of warm air hits my face. Succulents in black cat and cauldron planters decorate the corners of the dining area, and the display cases are filled with an array of fall themed treats and customer favorites. As much as I appreciate being able to sleep in again, sometimes I miss the smell of pastries in the morning.

  “Addie, darling! What are you doing here?” Delia bustles out from the back, her greying blonde hair tied neatly in a bun, and miniature witch’s hats dangling from her ears.

  “I missed you.” I sigh, falling into her arms. She’s the closest thing to a parent I have l
eft, and the only family I can physically hug. “I needed you,” I admit.

  “Now don’t you tell me,” she smiles wistfully, “you’re out of sorts and came here to bribe me for comfort foods?”

  “Am I that predictable?” I laugh weakly, taking a seat at an empty chair and pulling my camera off from around my neck.

  Delia signals Brian to pour a couple of cups of coffee while she gathers us a plate of pan dulce and turnovers to share.

  “No, darling,” she tells me as she settles in the seat across from me. “I just know that when I’m upset, I go looking for good food. But I also remember there was once or twice when I was going to Blackwood myself, that I drove all the way home because Mama mentioned what she was cooking for dinner and I couldn’t stay away.” She pushes one of the coffees into my hands, and then leans back to rest against the chair back, her shoulders sagging as she goes. “Now then, what's this all about?”

  I tilt my head to the side, picking at the side of my lid with my thumb as I consider how much to share. Nothing to do with magic, obviously, since she’s a staunch non-believer. But ghosts, hell, Delia’s more at ease with ghosts than she is with the living!

  “I seem to attract dark spirits.” I sigh, settling on a half-truth. “There’s something powerful about this ghost on campus, and to tell you the truth, it scares me. Did you notice any hauntings when you went to Blackwood?”

  “No, I can’t say I did. But, Addie, darling, you should know better than to be scared. It can’t be any worse than what you’ve faced in the past— and you did that all on your own!”

  But I didn’t. Not really.

  “Yeah, I guess.” I bite my bottom lip and scoot a cuernito across the rim of the plate. The crescent-shaped anise bread is coated with sugar I’d normally savor eating, but my stomach’s turning too much to enjoy it. “But, Aunt Del...”

  She watches me expectantly, but my throat is so tight, I can’t get my vocal cords to cooperate with me. My jaw is beginning to ache from how hard I’m clenching my teeth, and the palms of my hands are clammy.