Entranced (Goddess of Fate Book 2)

by Tamara Hart Heiner

  I gasped, my face prickling with heat at his accusation. “Why would you say that?”

  He shrugged, colder than I’d ever seen him. “You’re getting pretty good at this deception thing.”

  I shut my phone, enraged. “I better get going.”

  “See ya.” Aaron turned toward his car, then paused and swiveled toward me. He didn’t quite meet my eyes. “Oh. That little boy from the hospital?”

  “Carter.” I rocked on the balls of my feet, apprehension squeezing my lungs.

  “He’s all better, Jayne.” His features softened somewhat. “They discharged him yesterday. No sign of cancer, and his vitals are excellent.”

  I pressed a hand to my throat and nodded. “Thank you for telling me.”

  “So whatever’s going on, whatever power Laima might be losing, she still had enough to save him.”

  I nodded, though his words made me think of something he’d pointed out earlier. Maybe it wasn’t Laima’s power Karta was after. Maybe it was mine after all.

  His eyes flicked over my face, and his body twitched as if it warred against him. Then he gave a shake of his head, got in his car and drove away, leaving me alone in the parking lot, feeling emptier than I could ever remember feeling.

  *~*

  Mom stood in the driveway waiting for me when I pulled in. The only thing missing was a tapping foot.

  I was in no mood for it. “What?” I said, getting out and grabbing my overnight bag. “Good grief, Mom, you act like I can’t go out for the weekend.”

  “For starters, Jayne, you’re only seventeen. You can’t go off and only tell me afterward that you’ve gone somewhere.”

  I relented. “Sorry. I should’ve told you first.”

  Mom brushed me off with a wave of her hand. “I don’t even know who this girl is. Just because she’s Dana’s cousin doesn’t mean she’s someone we can trust.”

  She could say that again. “You’re right.”

  “I don’t want to be right,” she snapped. “I want you to be home. Something strange is going on, and I don’t want you out with people I don’t know. You’re needed here.”

  I had my mouth open, ready to defend myself, when her last words sank in. “I’m needed here?”

  She softened, the annoyance fading to worry. “Your sister’s going through a hard time. She needs a friend. She hasn’t come out of her room all weekend.”

  “Why didn’t you say so in the first place?” I brushed past my mom, making my way up the stairs. All sorts of scenarios flashed through my mind, but I tried to ignore them. The vision I’d had of Beth’s suicide was still several years in the future. I’d made a concerted effort to prevent her from going down that road.

  I threw my bag in my room and continued down the landing to Beth’s room. I knocked on her door. “Beth?”

  She didn’t answer, but that had never stopped me before. I pushed the door open.

  She lay on her back on the floor, a pillow pressed to her face. Before I could panic, she shoved it to the side and looked at me with red-rimmed eyes. “Did Mom send you up here?”

  “Yes and no,” I said, joining her on the floor. “She said you wouldn’t leave your room and I decided to come see you. So what’s going on?”

  “Nothing.” She put the pillow back on her face.

  I laid my head on the fluffy pink rug beneath us and closed my eyes, pretending to go to sleep. After a moment, she moved. I opened my eyes to see Beth had turned her head and was staring at me.

  “You make everything seem so easy,” she said.

  I arched an eyebrow, amused by the irony. “Oh really? What about my life seems easy?”

  “You get good grades, you have an amazing boyfriend, and your hair is always perfect.”

  I laughed out loud. “You forgot to mention my awesome car.”

  “You have a car.”

  “And you will too when you turn sixteen. Believe me, I’m as anxious for that day as you are.”

  “I bet.” She heaved another sigh and looked toward the ceiling.

  “What’s going on?” I ventured the question. “More with—who was it? Britney?”

  “Hannah,” she corrected. “They’re making my life so hard. Texting me things, telling people not to sit with me, calling me names.”

  I picked up her glittery pink cell phone, much cooler than mine. “They’re sissies. Wimps. Don’t let them steal your dreams.” Satisfied that Beth was suffering from normal teenage drama and nothing more drastic, I pushed myself to my feet. “Just make it through this year. Everything changes in high school.” For better or worse, I couldn’t say.

  *~*

  After an awkward and stressful family dinner, during which my father beamed at us ceaselessly and my mom tried not to look anxious, I made my way to the den. Beth joined me, flipping on the television while my parents retreated to their room. My plan was to do a search on the other Latvian gods, but I couldn’t get my mind off my argument with Aaron. His words, the look on his face, the accusation in his tone, it all kept ringing through my head. Even worse was the guilt prickling my conscience, telling me he hadn’t been that far off.

  I sighed, my heart heavy as I wandered aimlessly over the internet. This was officially our worst fight ever. The cold alarm flickering in my heart warned me that we were dangerously close to breaking up. And I couldn’t bear that. I wanted more of Aaron’s attention, not less of it. If we broke up, I’d lose him.

  And what if he went back to Libby? I’d never told him about my vision last spring where I saw him married to his ex-girlfriend and her plotting his murder. I’d petitioned Laima to change his death, but I had no way of knowing if she’d granted it. The fact that he and I were together, and not him and Libby, made me hope she had.

  I clicked on a news link and started reading, the words disappearing into my muddled brain without sinking in.

  . . . student at Lacey Township High, was arrested on Saturday . . .

  I had already clicked another link when I realized what I’d just read. I went back and pulled the article up. My mouth fell open.

  Trey Clark, a high school student at Lacey Township High, was arrested for animal cruelty on Saturday after his involvement with the duck massacre two weeks ago at Duncan Catholic. Clark was already on probation for an earlier incident at the previously named campus.

  My eyes bugged out, imagining someone I knew participating in something like that. I scanned the rest of the article, but it simply stated that Trey was caught on camera at the scene, and though he denied involvement, his alibi fell through.

  “We are questioning Clark now,” the chief of police said in the article. “We believe this may give us a lead to the instigator behind the recent strange rituals and perhaps even to the suicides.” When asked if he believed the occult was somehow involved, the chief declined to comment, but he did add, “Be vigilant. Be aware of the location of your family members. Especially watch out for children, who may be more impressionable and vulnerable.”

  I leaned back in my chair, speechless. I tried to recall the conversation I’d had with Trey all those weeks ago. He’d acted uneasy when the duck massacre got brought up. There had been a little bit of a bad boy edge to him, but I’d never suspected this.

  And if he could shed any kind of light on things, maybe he and I should have another talk.

  I pulled my phone out to make sure I hadn’t missed a call from Aaron. Surely he felt as awful about our fight as I did.

  Or maybe he was waiting for me to contact him.

  “I’m off to bed,” I said to my sister.

  She looked away from the television long enough to give me a smile. “Thanks.”

  “For saying good night?” I quipped. But I winked at her, knowing what she meant. “Of course.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Meredith bumped into my shoulder as I swapped books out of my locker on Monday.

  “Hey,” she said, “you ready for this test?”

  I gritted my teeth.
I was thinking about Trey Clark, the kid arrested for animal cruelty. And some of my thoughts drifted to Stephen, whose texts I never bothered returning. But most of all, my mind kept flitting back to Aaron, who hadn’t contacted me since our unhappy departure. Psychology test? Not even on the radar. I turned around.

  “You still have journalism fifth hour, right?” I asked.

  “Yes. But it’s not the same without you. Even being across the room was better than feeling like I don’t know anybody—”

  “But Trey Clark,” I interrupted. “He’s in there with you, right?”

  She blinked, temporarily smacked wordless. “Oh yeah, the transfer student. I think he’s in there.”

  I nodded, disappointed for a second that she didn’t know him. “You didn’t hear? He was arrested.”

  Her eyes widened behind the wire-framed glasses. “What? No! I didn’t know!”

  We started our journey across the street to the old history building. “Yeah, and I think it might be connected to the rash of suicides.” She opened her mouth to comment, and I rushed in before she could. “If he’s there today, can you get me his phone number? I need to talk to him.”

  “Yeah, of course. Do you think he’ll be there? If he was arrested, wouldn’t he be in jail?”

  Good questions. “I don’t know,” I admitted. “I didn’t see any mention of that in the paper.”

  Coach Johnson cleared his throat as we entered the classroom. “Seats, please, and no further talking. I hope you’re ready for this. But don’t worry—most kids do poorly on the first test. After that, they improve their study habits and do a lot better.” He smiled at us, as if those words were meant to be reassuring.

  Meredith heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes my direction before sliding into the desk behind me.

  I was two essay questions away from finishing my test when the intercom clicked on.

  “Teachers, please pardon the interruption. There will be a mandatory assembly during second hour.”

  “What do you think it’s about?” Meredith asked me as we made our way across the street.

  “The suicides,” I said immediately. I remembered the police chief’s concern in the paper. Then I frowned. “Or maybe Trey’s arrest.”

  “Right,” she breathed, eyes flickering excitedly. “Do you think it’s something like devil-worshiping? Is Lacey Township about to become the next Salem?”

  There were so many things wrong with her questions that I didn’t even know where to start. “First of all,” I began as we entered the senior hall and approached our lockers, “there was no devil-worshiping in Salem, it was all—”

  “Hey, Jayne,” a male voice interrupted, cutting me off.

  Meredith and I turned as one to see Stephen approaching.

  “What are you doing here?” I said, a flash of irritation warming my face.

  “Waiting for you. Since we all have to go to the meeting, I thought we could go together.” He looked more like his usual confident self, even wearing his lacrosse letterman jacket. He swaggered on over, resting his arm against the lockers and giving me a smile.

  Aaron’s accusation flitted through my mind. “Meredith and I are walking together.” I opened my locker, keeping one eye on Stephen and hoping he wouldn’t come any closer.

  No such luck. He came around to my side and took my backpack from me. “Wow, what have you got in here? Every book you own?”

  “Mostly just the homework I didn’t get done over the weekend.” My fingers itched to take back my bag. I could feel Meredith's eyes boring into me. I didn’t dare look around the hallway to see who else might be watching. “You can just stick that in my locker.”

  “Right, because you were too busy hopping out of town. Did you have a nice time in New York with your boyfriend?” He shoved my backpack inside and slammed the door shut.

  “Yeah. Great time.”

  He spun away from my locker, so quickly I took two steps back and stumbled into Meredith. He tilted his chin down, the bright green of his eyes penetrating me. “Is that sarcasm I hear?”

  I blinked and licked my lips. “Things are great between us.”

  “Who are you trying to convince?” he scoffed.

  “Ahem.” Meredith cleared her throat loudly. “This is like, so fascinating, but I didn’t bring any popcorn. And aren’t we supposed to be going to an assembly?”

  I glared at her, annoyed at the way she called us out, but at the same time grateful for it. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  Stephen shrugged. “Lead on.”

  I dropped back to walk with Meredith, but Stephen kept pace.

  “You know, no one comes over anymore,” he said casually, as if we were going for a stroll. “It’s like I’m some sort of freak. There’s people like Toby, who still say hi in school and sit with me at lunch and tell jokes and stuff. But nobody calls me. Nobody wants to hang out. And nobody comes near my house.”

  Meredith made a sympathetic noise. “I’ll come over.”

  “Meredith,” I said, but Stephen laughed.

  “Thanks,” he said. He probably didn’t even know her name.

  “People don’t think you’re a freak, Stephen,” I said. “Nobody knows what to say. You lost both your parents. They don’t know if they should tell you how sorry they are or pretend it didn’t happen. So they do nothing at all.”

  “Right, everyone’s uncomfortable around me. I get that.” He fixed his gaze on me again. “But you’re not.”

  I understood how badly Stephen wanted to believe that there was a connection between us. He’d lost everything. His parents, his girlfriend, even his friends. The idea of me was all he had left, and he was grasping at it with all his might. I shifted my weight and dropped my eyes. “I’ve just had a lot of experience dealing with this kind of thing.”

  “I’m sure that’s it,” he said, a note of humor in his voice, as if he found me funny.

  The low murmur of hundreds of teenage voices, combined with the muted odor of warm bodies sitting close together, wafted through the auditorium hall doors long before we reached them. Two teachers stood in the doorway, probably to assist students in finding appropriate seats, but actually they chatted to each other and completely ignored us.

  Meredith started up the bleachers, and I followed. Some of Stephen’s friends waved at him.

  “You’re welcome to go sit with your friends if you want,” I said.

  He waved back and said between gritted teeth, “They’re not really my friends, remember?”

  Meredith selected a bench, and Stephen and I slid in beside her. She leaned over me and asked him, “Do you know what this is about?”

  “No.” He shook his head. “Meredith, right? I’m—”

  “Stephen,” she supplied, then settled back onto her seat.

  “Everyone knows you, you dork,” I murmured out of the corner of my mouth.

  “Hey, I knew her too.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I was impressed.”

  Principal Herring stepped up to the microphone and cleared her throat. Her dark brown hair fell around her face in a style very reminiscent of the seventies, but it worked on her. Especially with the hip-hugging, maroon bell-bottoms.

  “If I could have everyone’s attention.” She waited a moment as the murmur drifted off to a whisper and finally to silence. “We’re here to address you today about a very serious topic. Ms. Bennett will speak to you in a moment, but I want each of you to realize how important this is. Please give us your attention. Put your phones away, stop talking to your friends. What you are about to learn could save a life.”

  I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. She definitely had my attention.

  “Thank you.” Principal Herring stepped away from the mic and gestured Ms. Bennett forward.

  Our guidance counselor took her spot, looking the exact opposite of Principal Herring with her short blond hair and straight, black editor pants. “Good afternoon, everyone. I’m going to talk to you today about suicide.”
r />   I sank back in my chair, my heart rate increasing. Stephen shifted next to me.

  “You may or may not have noticed,” she continued, “the recent rise in suicides in our area. We’ve already lost a classmate, and we don’t want to lose any more. There are usually warning signs before someone commits suicide. I want all of you to be aware of them in case we can save someone else.

  “I know we tend to stay within the safety of our friendship nets. But I’m asking all of you to pay attention to what’s happening around you. Please, open your eyes. You don’t have to be best friends with everyone, but at least show some compassion.”

  Stephen exhaled next to me, and I turned to him. I took in his pasty white face, the sweat beading on his brow. “Are you okay?” I whispered.

  He nodded.

  I studied him a moment longer, not quite convinced.

  “The first sign is talking about wanting to die.”

  Stephen made a noise in the back of his throat and put his head in his hands.

  It hit me then how this must be affecting him. His father had committed suicide. Was he remembering the weeks leading up to that act? Wondering if he could have prevented it?

  “Stephen?” I rested a hand on his back, lowering my head to my knees so I could see him. “Do you want to leave?”

  His only response was a shaky grunt.

  “Come on.” I gripped his elbow and tried to pull him to his feet. “Let’s take a breather.”

  He resisted me. And that’s when I realized he was crying.

  “Criminy,” I whispered. I resumed my seat and slid my hand down his arm. Finding his fingers, I intertwined my own with his and squeezed. “It’s all right,” I said.

  Ms. Bennett continued talking, but I didn’t hear anything more. Finally she finished and left the stage. Principal Herring came forward and said a few more words. The assembly concluded. Everyone stood, stretching and talking in low, subdued voices.

  Stephen didn’t budge, so neither did I. Meredith shifted beside me, her eyes darting between me and Stephen and the crowd of students forced to climb over us to get out. When the last shoes had shuffled down the aisle, Stephen released my hand and sat up.