Deadly Darlings (October Darlings Book 2)

by Wendolyn Baird

  “Screw a break. I’m done, Addie. We’re done.”

  Abandoning his food, he stands, and walks away without a second glance. It takes everything I've got not to run or scream after him, and by the time he's gone, I feel like I’m suffocating.

  I don’t know how long I sob, watched by everyone walking past, but when I raise my eyes again, only one sad gaze pierces my misery. Ramona is standing six feet away, a handbag dangling from her wrist, and her look of pity burning into my soul.

  “I’VE GOT TO ADMIT, when you said you didn’t need help moving, I thought you were just trying to do everything by yourself,” Tomas says.

  He’s standing in the middle of my dorm, a single plastic bin in his arms and wearing a bemused expression as he surveys the emptied side of the space. Ramona, lounging in the computer chair, seems just as thrown off, but I think that has more to do with how organized my two suitcases and the remaining box are. From what I’ve seen over the last two days staying in their duplex, the disarray of the place is primarily Ramona’s fault. Which is weird because her outfits, in contrast, are always perfectly matched. I can’t tell how she can even find clean clothes in her room.

  “I told you,” I shrug, “I don’t have much stuff.”

  “That’s an understatement,” Tomas mutters under his breath. In a louder tone he adds, “alright, I suppose we better get this stuff downstairs and head back. We’ve got a lot more papers to go over.”

  “Do we have to do more boring investigating?” Ramona yawns and stretches her arms over her head until her fists brush against the bottom of my bed. I mean, Eden’s bed, since I’m moving out. Gosh that’s strange.

  I think I’m still in shock. Or maybe half shock. The last two nights I’ve cried myself to sleep over Ellis, and the only thing that has hurt more is the fact that I couldn’t get up and go to Sabrina for comfort. I miss my best friends.

  “Hello? Are you listening?” Ramona waves a hand in front of my face and I blink at her in confusion.

  “Uhm, I’m sorry. What?”

  Ramona rolls her eyes, and Tomas looks disappointed, but neither of them explain what I’ve missed.

  “Let’s just get you home.” Ramona shakes her head and stands, grabbing the handles of both suitcases as she does.

  Her phrasing makes the ache in my chest so much deeper. They don’t know what home is for me. But attracting dark entities the way it seems like I do... I can’t risk leading anything back to Nix House either. My ghostly relatives might be better equipped to handle that danger than my normal friends, but that doesn’t mean it’s fair to put that on them. Especially not Delia. Running a business, paying my college funds, and grieving for her brother has got to be hard.

  “What did you mean by boring research?” I ask Ramona as we hike across the parking lot. The sun is high in the sky, and the crisp gales that send our hair twisting into knots makes it difficult to speak, but something about the way she said it was just... off. I mean, sure, flipping through old news articles and school directories isn’t exactly fun, but I wouldn’t say frantically searching for the cause of our haunting, boring.

  Ramona wrinkles her nose and shoots a worried glance at her brother as we trek around a large, blue truck. “You know how Tomas is,” she deflects. “We can go over it later.”

  Just as my mind is finally wandering away from Ellis, and birds, and whatever deadly creature is haunting me now, a low screeching hits my eardrums. The beating of wide wings sounds somewhere close by, and as I wheel around in circles, Ramona begins to laugh and Tomas looks at us with such an annoyed expression, I almost feel like I need to apologize.

  “Will you cut that out,” Tomas hisses. He sets the box on top of the hood of my beat-up little car, and scowls at his sister. “Do you really want mortals to start asking questions?”

  “Oh, come off it!” Ramona releases the handles of my bags and brushes her hair away from her face. “They’ll just think this one has been tamed. Which is kind of true, in a way.”

  As she speaks, a dark bird swoops onto the box Tomas had just set down, its iridescent head gleaming with purples and blues. Turning a nearly white eye on us, it snaps its beak several times and raises its wings as it takes me in. The feathers around its neck puff out, and I shirk back.

  “I don’t think she likes me much,” I frown.

  “He,” Ramona corrects. Stroking the top of the bird’s head, she leans her face closer to him. “The females are smaller and usually lighter in color.”

  “Oh.” I stare at her, a box still in my hands and unsure about how long we’re going to stand in the parking lot. My heels are aching, and the breeze is nudging my hair against the back of my neck, causing an unbearable tickling sensation. Raising my shoulders and squirming, I balance the box in my arms, and shift my weight.

  “It’s a new moon tonight,” Ramona announces gleefully. Darting a glance at me, she smirks. “As our new roommate, I think it’s time for you to meet my friends.”

  Tomas scowls at his twin and brushes past her, scaring off the grackle and loading my possessions into the car with more force than necessary. The leather of his jacket strains with the movement, and his pale irises are flashing with hues of silver and iron. They’re hard and harsh, but when he looks at me, they soften into worry, and the pit of my stomach churns.

  The tickle at the back of my neck morphs into a chill, and as we pull out of the campus parking lot, I swear someone is staring at me. As soon as I hit a red light, I adjust my mirrors and scan the landscape behind me. But it isn’t until I’m shifting into drive again that I see her.

  Shriveled, shrouded in violet, and fading in and out of focus is an undeniable spirit with a malevolent air. The only problem is there have been no records of a missing grandmother in any of the papers I’ve seen so far. Besides, we’re looking for a deadly sort of ghost, and a little old lady? Doesn’t quite seem to hit the mark.

  Shuddering, I drive the rest of the way to the duplex with my hands nearly frozen to the steering wheel. The twins quarrel incessantly the entire time, and when we approach the curb, we're met with another unusual sight.

  “Oh, great,” I sigh shakily. “A plague and a murder. Just what we needed.”

  The yard is covered in dozens of black birds, from the abundant grackles that haunt the area, to the rarer crows, cackling besides their cousins. A smattering of feathers fall down the front steps, and I rest my arm on my car door, unsure whether or not to open it.

  “They’re not going to attack me, are they?” I ask.

  “No, of course not. They’re just here because Ramona doesn’t know how to keep a low profile,” Tomas pans.

  “And you,” his sister points at him from the back seat, “don’t know how to have any fun. What happened to all your boring self-acceptance talk?”

  “Talk is one thing, doing something that can get me killed is another,” Tomas snaps.

  They both clamber out of the car before I can ask what he means, and between removing my things from the trunk and fearing the birds at my back, I figure there’s time to find out later.

  My room is by far the smallest, tucked in the back of the duplex, facing a minuscule, long abandoned garden. A wide, brick fence in copper hues separates me from the next street over, and my window is large enough to step through. Frank scuttles off my wrist as soon as the siblings leave us alone, and I’m left staring at the bare space.

  Again, I’m struck by a sense of wealth in the old, largely uncared for home. Crown molding borders the ceiling, plush carpet muffles my footsteps, and as I pull my own bed sheets over the mattress, replacing their generic guest sheets, I can’t help but frown at the expensive look of the room, even with the worn furniture it holds.

  “I’m betting it’s rich parents,” I mumble to Frank. “What do you think?”

  He cocks his head to the side, winds his tail tighter, and then shuffles off to inspect the underside of the oak dresser in the corner.

  “Okay,” I sigh. “You ignore
me too.”

  Sabrina’s not consciously trying to ignore me, I know, but since we talked in the cemetery, I’ve only gotten a handful of texts anymore. I’m not her roommate or neighbor anymore, I get it. But still.

  Especially since Ellis isn’t talking to me at all.

  Does anyone ever get over their first love? Can I?

  My fingers brush against wrinkled paper and I pull out carefully wrapped frames from on top of my school supplies. Photos of my dad, of Delia, and even my mother are neatly encased within the frames. Then there are my other favorites. The scorpions from the graveyard in the back of Nix House, displays from Delia's bakery, and a few landscapes of home and cityscapes of San Antonio, which I miss almost as much.

  “Those are good,” Tomas calls from the doorway. “Is that your major?”

  “Photography? Yeah.” I nod, setting the pictures neatly on the bedspread. “What’s yours?”

  “World lit, with a minor in anthropology.” He steps in briskly, crossing the threshold with his hands in his pockets and a brooding expression on his face.

  “That sounds heavy on the paperwork. So, why did you choose that?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” He smiles and tilts his head my way. “I get to learn all about myths. Might as well, seeing as I am one.”

  “Yeah, about that.” I sit down on the edge of the mattress and stack a few of the frames on top of each other, contemplating. “I feel like I’m out of the loop. What’s going on with Ramona and her friends, and what did you mean by getting killed?”

  Tomas sets me with a serious gaze that makes my heart jump a beat. Silently, he strolls over and sits beside me, the mattress dipping with his weight, and sending me straight into his shoulder.

  “Sorry.” I blush, pushing myself away. He helps me up, his hands lingering on mine a beat longer than needed and my heart moves even faster as I pull away.

  “Addie.” He sighs and rubs at his temples. “Addie, you’re part witch. I’m a shifter that morphs into a human sized raven. We both see ghosts. It hasn’t occurred to you that there’s more to the world besides us?”

  A jolt of electricity travels up my spine, and I stick my jaw out defiantly. “I swear, if you tell me Yetis and Bigfoot are real...”

  “No, no,” he chuckles. “Although that might actually be less terrifying. No,” he clears his throat, “I mean there are other magic wielders. Mages, specifically. And they hate gallowbirds.”

  “Wait, isn’t that just a type of witch?” I squint at him and the corners of my mouth drag down. “I don’t understand.”

  “Mages and witches are a lot alike. They both have talents the way we do, and they can both imbibe objects with magic.”

  My hand goes automatically to my wrist, although Frank is still off exploring the room.

  “The difference is how they access power. Mages are more physical. More tied to the here and now, like shifters. And some shifters are very, very twisted. They’ll hunt witches and mages for fun.”

  Silence drops between us like a glass wall as I gape at him. Opening and shutting my mouth, it’s several seconds before I regain the power of speech.

  “Like, cannibalism? I mean, you’re human too!”

  Tomas grimaces and looks rather sick. “Yeah. Exactly like that,” he affirms. “It’s vile and grotesque, but unfortunately, there’s enough of them that most mages will kill a hellhound or gallowbird on sight.”

  “Hellhound.” The word sinks in my stomach as I speak it. That’s one animal I’m familiar with. A huge, black dog with red eyes that haunt graveyards. “Are they the bad ones?”

  Tomas shakes his head and leans back on his hands. “No. Some are good. Just like me and Ramona are good. But not all shifters are, just like not all clairvoyants or witches are.”

  Staring at the wall across from us a sheen of condensation appears to be running down the oval mirror fixed above the small desk. Am I doing that?

  I swallow with difficulty, my throat is so swollen, and shut my eyes against the water trickling down the glass. Magenta sparks at the back of my eyelids, and when I open them again, the mirror is perfectly clean, and my head begins to ache.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you,” Tomas apologizes.

  Looking down, it’s obvious my hands are shaking. I clench them tight to stop the movement and take a deep breath.

  “Uhm, I’m fine,” I mutter. “No worries. So, that’s one question answered. What about Ramona’s friends?”

  Tomas shrugs, brushes his hands across his lap, and stands. “Nothing really. They’re just as self-centered and reckless as Ramona can be. Make no mistake, I love my sister. But she can be difficult. Just,” he sighs, “watch your back.”

  EXCITED VOICES ALERT me to company before the doorbell does. Frank, currently curled up on my new bed, raises his head expectantly and I shrug back. Throwing a sweater on top of my tee shirt and gathering my too thick hair up into a ponytail, I wait for him to clamber up my side before leaving the room. With Frank on my wrist, my opal pendant tucked under my shirt, and nervousness swirling through my gut, I creep out to the living room.

  All the papers have been stashed away, the empty dishes vanished, and the furniture rearranged to accommodate the group of guests Ramona is ushering in. Avoiding their gazes, I catch sight of Tomas in the kitchen, and sidle into the space next to him. His eyes flash to mine as I walk, but he looks away just as quickly.

  “So, who all is here?” I whisper, although I doubt Ramona and her friends could hear me talking over all their laughter.

  “The girl in red,” he indicates a tall brunette with a nose ring, “that’s Bridget. Over there,” he nods to a girl decked out in plaid who looks like she might be Korean, “that's Terra. And that,” he points. “That’s Yvette.”

  Yvette is obviously the closest to Ramona. Judging by her warm complexion and the pendant of the Virgin of Guadalupe strung around her neck, I’m assuming she’s Hispanic like me. She has one arm entwined with Ramona’s, and as they sit, she drags her seat so that they can whisper to one another between all the laughing.

  “Do you think those are good secrets or bad secrets?” I wonder under my breath.

  “Who are you to judge?” Tomas retorts. “You’re back here whispering with me.”

  Caught off guard, I blush even deeper before sticking my tongue out at him and stomping over to the fridge. Pulling out the soda I’d stashed there earlier, I untwist the cap, and use it to make my stance seem less awkward. More I just walked in to grab a drink, and less, I have no idea who these people are, but I’m nosey and lonely.

  “Addie,” Ramona speaks up. Three heads turn my way, and as the blood rushes to my face, I can hear Tomas chucking in the background. “Come over here and say hi! Guys, this is our new roommate. Adeline Nix.”

  “Nix,” Terra ponders. “I’ve heard that name before. Are you from the area?”

  I flush even deeper and stumble over towards the couch. “Uhm, yeah. I am.”

  “Addie’s a clairvoyant,” Ramona confides to the group. “And she showed up just in the nick of time.”

  I don’t like the way she’s talking about me. Like I’m not even here, and my ability is something to brag about without my consent. My jaw tightens, but before I can interrupt, Tomas comes to my side and places a hand on my arm.

  “Deep breath,” he mutters. “This is what I was warning you about.”

  The feel of his fingers wrapping around my forearm are soothing, and I do as he says.

  This time, Yvette cocks her head to the side and smirks. “What’s this, Tommy? Have you finally found someone to date? Where exactly does she sleep?”

  “I, I, oh my gosh, no,” I stammer.

  Tomas drops my arm and is just as flustered as I am. “Addie has her own room, and we aren’t dating,” he states loudly. Probably more loudly than necessary. But how can I tell? My ears are ringing too much to decipher volume correctly.

  Terra and Bridget exchange glances and Yvette raises an
eyebrow.

  “Seriously,” Tomas emphasizes. “She’s just a friend!”

  “Yeah!” I agree. “Besides, I just broke up with my boyfriend!”

  “Wait, you did? When?” Tomas frowns, turning my way.

  “Look at how interested he is,” Bridget giggles.

  “Alright, alright,” Ramona claps her hands, “y’all shut up and leave them alone. It’s time to have fun.”

  “This is fun,” Yvette mumbles, but she falls quiet with the rest of us.

  “Addie,” Ramona commands, “come, sit. You deserve to be part of this too.”

  When you see the dead every day, dia de los muertos no longer seems as magnificent. Instead, it’s simply a time to celebrate and mourn. And as the beginning of November is upon us, that’s exactly what we begin to do.

  Chapter Ten

  AS THE EVENING GOES on, the girls’ list of things to do gets stranger and stranger. We make sugar skulls and down our weight in food, which is normal enough. But then Yvette pushes everyone into sharing a story about at least one dead relative, and eventually Bridget starts insisting on going for a midnight walk at the wildlife reservation nearby.

  The others brush her off at first, but her insistence grows stronger and stronger until they relent. They’re all gathering their jackets when I take the opportunity to escape down the hall.

  Something in the way they’re talking about the hike makes it seem like this is no ordinary walk, and with Ramona’s excitement over the new moon, I’m not sure if I want to find out. I know very little about spell work, but I do know many charms go alongside the moon phases, and if there’s one thing I don’t want anyone else to find out, it’s that I’m half witch. If that’s bad enough to make ghosts haunt me, I don’t know what else might try tracking me down.

  “Tomas,” I hiss through his closed door. Faint music passes underneath, and it’s clear who the psychobilly fan is now. “Tomas?” I knock lightly.

  No answer. Just, freaking great.

  Groaning, I turn around and slide down the door, resting my head against it.