Deadly Darlings (October Darlings Book 2)

by Wendolyn Baird

  “I’m back!” I holler for the living. The dead already know I’m here. Marlowe’s hovering at the staircase when I walk in the dining room, my grandmother at her side.

  “Oh good, there you are, Adeline!” Nana smiles. “It was getting restless around here without you.”

  “Is Beau still all over the place?” I mumble, wrestling my sweater up over my head.

  “Nope,” Marlowe answers. “He’s off pouting somewhere in the dark. Good luck finding him.”

  “Good luck, indeed,” I agree. When he doesn’t want to be seen, he won’t be. It’s difficult for even me to find him with my extra sight. “Where are Ramona and Tomas?”

  The two spirits exchange hesitant glances.

  “What? What am I missing?” I ask, turmoil twisting in my gut. With the way today is going, I can only handle so much more stress.

  “Nothing.” Marlowe shakes her head. “They're down the hall.”

  Squinting at them suspiciously, I turn to the right and follow the faint sound of voices to the front bedroom.

  Tomas is hunched over in the tiny beside chair while Ramona is sprawled across the star patterned bedspread, both of them scowling at each other. Just like usual.

  “You know,” I say, “I figured with it being a holiday and all, y’all might get along a little better.”

  “Fat chance,” Ramona snorts, “have you met my brother?”

  Tomas rolls his eyes and slumps down in the cramped chair. “Oh, yeah, I’m the problem. All I’m saying is we shouldn’t let our guards down.”

  “We’re fine! Now stop being so paranoid,” Ramona snaps, leaving me utterly convinced I’ve missed some crucial part of this conversation.

  “Okay, wait,” I hold my hands up, “I’m confused. What did I miss?”

  Tomas sets me with a stern glare, and I bristle under his gaze, squaring my shoulder instinctively. Sometimes, he really bothers me with how moody he is.

  “I was saying I don’t like how quiet our campus haunting has become. I think we ought to go back and explore the courtyard while everyone’s gone.”

  “And I was saying,” his sister cuts in, “that we might as well enjoy the break and get back to problem solving after the holiday. It’s not like we’ve made any progress in the last month. What’s a few days going to change?”

  “Okay, both of you,” I snap, “just cut it out! I’ve had a really bad day after a lot of other really bad days. Now I’m home, and I want to relax. So, I vote for a break.”

  Ramona nods smugly at her brother, sitting up to make room for me on the bed. With the cool breeze of a houseful of spirits at my back, and a pair of gallowbirds in front of me, I crawl onto the bed, mind reeling from this new life of mine. We might be taking a break from ghost hunting, but I do agree with Tomas on one central point. We can’t let our guards down.

  Which is why tonight Ramona and I are going to cross over to the in-between. I need to talk to my ancestors.

  SHAKING TOMAS OFF TURNS out to be easier than expected. After dinner at the grill (mandated by Delia so she could handle her last-minute pastry orders and not worry about my cooking burning the house down) we ran into my friend, George, who happened to say two magic words.

  Video games.

  Leaving the guys at the arcade, we promised to meet them back at Nix House later and drove out to a mainly abandoned road.

  “Remind me again why we have to come way out here, in the dark, to cross over?” Ramona asks from the front seat.

  Straining to peer through the fogged-up glass, I take the next turn before answering her. “This is where I stumbled over for the first time. I’m betting it will be easier to reach them this way.”

  Either that, or it will be an easier way to get myself killed. I’m still not sure how much of a stain last year’s misadventure left on the space.

  As we pull up to a break in the fence and a narrow, dirt road, I glance around for any approaching cars, and turn in. It’s difficult navigating the bumpy path through the trees, and my car is most definitely not made for it, but it’s still easier than struggling through on foot. The sky is bleak overhead, and I hate the mist that’s curling around the outside of the vehicle. We may as well be in the in-between already.

  “Just one more question,” Ramona brings up. Tying her waves back into a low ponytail, she holds her knitted cap against her collarbone with her chin and mumbles as she speaks. “Why exactly were you out here to begin with?”

  I sigh and park. There’s still half a mile to go, but the underbrush is too thick to drive through. Pulling my hood up over my head and double-knotting my boots, I grimace and reply, “Would you believe I was looking for a stupid statue?”

  Ramona’s lips pull up in an unwilling smile, and as I climb out into the fog, I hear her giggle, “Yes, actually. I can.”

  The abandoned church is relatively easy to find, seeing as I’ve been to it in my dreams almost weekly for months. But there’s something about standing in front of it that makes my spine arch and my hands quake. The last time I was here, I almost died.

  With the blood pounding in my ears, I can’t shake off my ancestors’ warning. I have a decision to make, and I don’t know how or why. But if I don’t bind myself to one of the Erebus twins... I can’t bring myself to fathom who might die. And if I do bind myself to one of them, I’ll have a lifelong bond or perish in the process. That’s way too much pressure for a couple of rocky friendships I’ve only had for a month.

  “Come on,” I whisper, even though there’s really no need. Anything that could actually hurt us would hear anyway. “The door is this way.”

  Using the sporadic lights from flashlights we’re too cold to hold still, we feel our way through the busted boards and past graffitied walls. The building is just as lonesome and mournful as before but knowing what I’m about to do gives it a whole new level of creepiness. Crossing over with Tomas wasn’t nearly as hard, but he’s too wound up to be put through this. Besides, I’m not even supposed to know about the curse.

  Once we reach the center of the church, the passageway opens to a small, roofless nook. A courtyard just wide enough to hold a well, and the watchful gaze of a stone woman I can’t bear to look at.

  I swallow fruitlessly against the dryness in my throat and slip beneath the moon. Surrounded by bricks and trees, only the slightest light filters down, and the call of a raven off in the distance chills my blood.

  “Are you ready now?” Ramona asks, stepping smartly behind me. Her makeup is still expertly applied, but her boots are caked in mud, and I catch sight of her hands shaking as she sets down her flashlight.

  “Uhm. Sure,” I sigh. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  Grasping my hands in hers, she steps closer, until our foreheads are pressed against one another. Shutting my eyes, I breathe in the icy air, letting it sting my raw throat as I struggle to keep myself in place. I want to run, need to run.

  “Trust me,” Ramona whispers. And then she shifts.

  Her fingers elongate and thin into feathers, her arms move and wrap around me, and when I open my eyes again, the fog is gone.

  “We knew you’d be back,” one of the twins informs me. Dressed in their usual rose and sage colored dresses, Eleanor Jane, and Anna Mae step forward, regarding us with sharp eyes.

  “Is this the one you’ve chosen then?” Eleanor asks, darting a hand out to pluck one of Ramona’s feathers as she’s in the process of changing back. It’s an odd sight, watching Ramona molt and her figure shift from bird to human.

  “Uh, no. I don’t know. I mean, that’s not why we’re here!” I respond, flustered.

  Pressing my fingers to my temples, every noise I hear makes me jump. At any moment, the hag might pop up again, and then what?

  Ramona introduces herself, only to be met with rude dismissals and demands about what we want. With a shaking voice and knees, I answer them, giving all the details I have and letting Ramona fill in the rest.

  “Well,” Anna murmurs, tapping on he
r nose. “I suppose the only way to break it is with a witch. But you’d most likely need more than one, if a coven did the work.”

  “Too true,” her twin agrees, smoothing out her skirts. “I’d guess you’d need at least three. And a bond!” Eleanor adds. “Whichever one you don’t bond with will have to bond with a witch. Otherwise, the pull of the curse might be too strong and then you’ll never break it.”

  Ramona and I look towards each other, and I know we’re thinking the same thing. One bond will be enough, since I’m both clairvoyant and a witch... But where are we going to get two more witches? The only other one we know is Eden and if she’s moved out of the dorms, I have no way of contacting her. The last time I tried calling her, the phone was disconnected.

  “Thank you,” I finally respond. Ramona is so stagnant, I’d almost think she was in shock, if it weren’t for the glint in her eyes that tells me she’s ruminating on something.

  “One more thing, girls,” the twins rasp out. “Be careful how you go forward. With a spell like, there’s sure to be hell to pay for breaking it.”

  Ramona grabs my hand before I can ask what they mean, and nodding at me, she shifts once more. Another second later, we’re back in the realm of the living, and as soon as I feel the solid ground, I collapse.

  “Oh my god, are you okay?” She shrieks.

  “Yeah, yeah,” I groan, stumbling to my feet. “Just dizzy. Quiet down, will you?”

  “Yeah, of course. But what’s wrong?” She peers into my face, juggling both flashlights in her hands as she tries to grab at my chin.

  “Nothing,” I lie. Taking the lights from her, I switch them off, trying my best to ignore the violet orbs beginning to manifest around us. “Just, let’s go.”

  “What?” She gasps, reaching for a flashlight once more. I hide them behind my back and step into the passageway.

  “We need to go,” I whisper. “Now!”

  Running for dear life, it’s impossible to shake off the feeling of dread that’s rushing over me. Whatever spirits reside near that well, they aren’t friendly. And no matter what Tomas and Ramona's official destiny may be, I’m not taking any chances of them getting hurt.

  By the time we reach the car, we’re breathless and our clothes are ragged, ripped by branches and covered in mud. Ramona’s eyeliner is running down her face, and I’m pretty sure I have twigs in my hair.

  “What was that?” Ramona gasps as we fling ourselves into our seats.

  Locking the doors, I hand her a bundle of sage and lavender and tell her to light it while I’m starting the engine. We let it burn in an ashtray between us, hoping the plants can keep away the spirits, and I don’t speak until we're on the main road once more.

  “That,” I wheeze, “is what my life has been like ever since I moved back to Nix House.”

  Ramona pulls her hat off and rubs at her face with the palms of her hands. “Now what?” She moans. “How are we supposed to find two more witches? There’s no way in hell I’m trusting your wayward friend. No offense.”

  “None taken,” I answer grimly. “I guess we’ll just have to look at the weirder groups on campus and hope we get lucky.”

  “Lucky? We’ll need something stronger than luck,” she complains, glancing up at me.

  As we pass under a streetlight, the glare off the lamp shines on a muddied piece of paper by her feet. One with a mausoleum on the cover.

  “You’re right, but I think I have an idea. How do you feel about going on a tour to see all of Blackwood’s ghouls and ghosts?”

  Chapter Seventeen

  “HURRY UP!” I YELL AT Ramona through the closed bathroom door. We’re supposed to be on the road back to Blackwood in an hour, and she’s still not dressed for the day. “Okay,” I huff at Tomas. “I’m going to swing by the bakery for food for the road. I’ll see you in a bit.”

  “Good luck,” he sings in a low voice.

  Padding through the house, he ducks out onto the back porch, and before the door swings shut, I can hear his lighter clicking on. He doesn’t smoke nearly as often as I’d originally thought, and quite frankly, at this point, I think it’s an addiction he’s been trying to break.

  Throwing mine and Tomas’ bags in the back, I take small comfort in knowing at least most of the packing will be done by the time I get back. Sabrina’s house is in the early stages of getting decked out for Christmas and I slouch down in my seat to avoid making eye contact as I pass. Maybe one day we can be pen pals or something. A friendship that doesn’t involve me putting her in danger.

  Frank scuttles onto the steering wheel and climbs up to the dashboard. With him glinting in the sun and exhaustion beating out my usual anxiety, I turn up the radio and hum along. I’ve got a partial answer for my friends’ curse, the hag hasn’t gone after anyone else, and as of yet, I’m still alive. So, today is a good day. It’s got to be.

  Delia’s bakeshop is as welcoming as ever, and Norma hugs me as I step in.

  “Del,” she calls. “Your kin is here!”

  I smile at a few regular customers and give them perfunctory answers on how college is going while I wait for my aunt, and the quaint chiming of bells above the door as people come and go is comforting. The weird thing about being homesick is that sometimes you don't even notice how much you've been aching until you get there. Surrounded by the strong smell of coffee and sugar, the pain in my chest lessens minutely.

  “Hey, darling!” Delia greets me. “I’m glad you swung by before leaving! I’ve got Javi boxing up your favorites for you and fresh coffee is brewing right now.”

  “Thanks, Aunt Delia. I really appreciate it.” I smile at her, resisting the urge to hug her and never let go. I wish she could just fix all this for me, but she can’t.

  “You promise me you’ll visit more often? Mrs. Thomas was just in here the other day and she said Sabrina’s been stopping by every other week.”

  Guilt stirs in my chest and I shift my feet. “Oh, I’m sorry. Sure, I’ll come by more often. I promise.”

  She presses her palm to my hand, stares at me a moment longer, and then Norma approaches with the coffees. I let her fuss over me for another couple of minutes, and by the time I step back outside I almost believe my mantra.

  Today is a good day.

  “Oh,” a startled gasp breaks my concentration as I stride towards my car. Ellis is standing square in the middle of the sidewalk, keys in his hand, and a dumbstruck expression on his face.

  “Oh,” I sigh back. The sight of him feels like a quick hit to the gut as all the air in my lungs whooshes out.

  He’s as handsome as ever, with his kind, honey-colored eyes and lush lips. His hair is cropped shorter than the last time we spoke, only the smallest bit of sandy brown hair falls onto his forehead, and the sunlight highlights the faint scar he gained climbing out of the well last year.

  “Sorry,” I blush, dancing around him to set my things in the car, “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

  “I probably should have assumed you would be,” he retorts coolly. The pain in my chest returns. It figures he’d still be mad. “Where’s your new boyfriend?” He asks abruptly.

  “Boyfriend?” I gape at him. The drink carrier slips in my hand and I slide it on top of the roof of my car before it can drop.

  “Aren’t you dating that guy now?” He frowns, shoving his hands into his pockets and hunching his shoulders over.

  “What? No!” I exclaim, clutching the box of sweets weakly. “I’m not dating anyone, I tried telling you that before!”

  “Oh,” he mutters again, this time blinking slowly. “Oh.” His cheeks flush red and his eyes soften.

  I’ve missed him staring at me like that. Shoving the box onto the hood of the car, I leave my keys beside it and stumble forward.

  “I’m not dating anyone,” I repeat, my voice cracking and falling into a whisper.

  We’re only a foot away from each other now. All the anger in his stance is gone, but in its place is a tension I can’t b
reak.

  More than anything, I just want to fall into his arms, but, how can I? Knowing what a danger I am, how could I possibly do that to him?

  “I miss you,” I admit selfishly.

  He hangs his head and leans forward, but keeps his feet planted firmly where they are. “I...” he stutters. “I need to go.”

  Turning quickly on his heel, he leaves me alone at the curb, my heart in a mess and lonely guilt tearing me up inside.

  “It was supposed to be a good day,” I moan to Frank.

  In response, he lifts his head and curls his tail, and slowly, I gather my things and climb into the driver's seat. It’s been two days since Ramona and I visited my ancestors, and maybe it isn’t a good day yet, but sometime soon, it’s got to be. I just need to keep hanging on.

  I MAKE RAMONA SIT IN the back on the way to Blackwood and do my best to ignore the grackle perched on her shoulder the whole way there. Tomas, in a surprisingly good mood, entertains us with renditions of his favorite songs and for once, they stop arguing.

  So, maybe seeing Ellis sucked. This is good, at least.

  “I was thinking,” I mention as we drive up to the duplex. “We still have another day or so until everyone gets back to campus. Maybe we can go check out the courtyard.”

  Tomas stops singing mid-song and grins at me. “Really? Good. I am so ready to have this spirit put behind us! She’s a real nasty piece of work. The birds won’t stop griping about it.”

  “The birds won’t stop...” I mouth his response to myself and shake my head, shutting off the engine. “Okay, moving on, uhm, I was thinking I wouldn’t be completely against checking things out... if you agree to do something completely cheesy with us.”

  Glancing at Ramona in the rearview mirror, I make eye contact and dip my chin, signaling her to cut in.