by Kelly Oram
Rachel gave me a sad smile and said the last thing I’d ever expected. “I know.”
For a moment, I panicked. Maybe Dani had contacted her parents after all. Maybe she’d explained everything to them. Was it possible she’d told them about the supernatural and about what she was, and this was how they’d dealt with it? Humans couldn’t handle the truth. Well, most couldn’t. But then Rachel pressed her hand over her heart and said, “I would know. I would feel it here, if she were dead. I don’t know why she left, but I’m sure she had her reasons.”
“Oh, give it a rest, Rachel!” John suddenly snapped. “She’s dead! Even the cops said so. Our baby girl is gone. Stop lying to yourself and just accept it!”
“I won’t,” Rachel said harshly. “I can feel it, John. Dani is out there somewhere, and we will see her again. I refuse to give up on her just because you did.”
“You think I gave up on her? If she’s still alive, then that means she gave up on us.” He pointed an angry finger at me. “It means she gave up on him.” He went back to gluing pictures into his book. “Dani wouldn’t do that. Not for any reason. Not ever. She’s dead, Rachel. Dead.”
I swallowed again. These two were going to kill me. I couldn’t handle the sadness and the guilt. Especially because I knew the truth. Rachel was right. Dani was out there somewhere. But John was also right. She’d given up on them and me.
I must have looked as close to losing it as I felt, because Clara rose to her feet and took my hand. Anger flared in me first, but then her energy passed into me and I calmed down. “Thank you so much for breakfast,” she said to Rachel. “It was nice meeting you both. But Russ and I should get going now.”
Rachel’s eyes glossed over again, but she nodded a dismal acceptance. Hands clinging tightly to one another, Clara and I headed for the front of the house, until Rachel came dashing after me. “Russ, wait! Before you go, we have something for you.”
Rachel dug around in the hall closet for a minute, and then handed me a birthday present. “I know it’s a month late.” More tears trickled down her cheeks. “We didn’t know where to send it.”
I choked, unable to breathe, because a heavy weight was pushing on my chest. Clara glanced curiously at me, but I wouldn’t meet her eyes. I hadn’t told anyone my real birthday. It came and went a month ago without a soul on the planet acknowledging it. Except, apparently, for Dani’s mom. Eventually, I managed a strangled “Thanks, Rachel” as I took the package.
“It’s not much,” Rachel whispered as I tore open the wrapping. “Mr. Leventis finally died a few months back, and his son donated a bunch of stuff to the historical society. When I saw this, I thought it was just so you that I asked if I could keep it.”
Dang, blast it! The woman was going to make me cry! I’d condemn my soul to Hell before crying in front of Clara. Forcing back all emotion, I opened the box and was mesmerized by the talisman I found inside. It was about the shape and size of a half dollar and made of metal. The medallion hung from a faded leather strap. I didn’t recognize the symbol on the front, exactly, but it reminded me of an ancient version of a devil’s trap. It was old, amazing, and beautiful. It had to be priceless.
“Do you like it?” Rachel asked hopefully.
“I love it,” I whispered with a sort of reverence.
Even Clara said, “It’s incredible,” in a breathy voice.
Rachel was right about the necklace being very me. I’d never worn any kind of jewelry before, but the moment I laid my eyes on it, I knew it was meant for me. I sucked in a breath as I pulled it over my head. The talisman was magical. I could feel power coming off of it. Not just any power, though; this felt like the same dark, ancient power I’d been using lately.
I tried not to let Rachel see that I was startled. But Clara picked up on it. I didn’t understand how Rachel giving me a demonic artifact could have been anything except coincidence, but the timing was too uncanny. “You said this came from the old Leventis farm?”
Rachel’s eyes lit up the way they always did when the history of something fascinated her. She nodded enthusiastically. “He had a whole bunch of amazing stuff in his attic. I guess the family had been collectors in Europe for generations. They moved here from Greece around the time of the colonization of the states. The farmhouse is officially the oldest building in Carmine. I always knew the farmhouse was old, but Mr. Leventis was so private he would never let me interview him.”
“But his son didn’t care?”
Rachel shook her head. “For some reason, his son didn’t want to have anything to do with any of it. He gave most of the more important artifacts to museums, but a lot of the smaller trinkets, like your necklace, he sold or donated to the historical society. Then he donated the house as a historical landmark.”
A whole house full of ancient Greek artifacts that were infused with demon magic? I didn’t know whether to be excited that I found a starting point for my quest for information, or freaked out that this clue had been not three miles from me my entire life. And so close to where the Chosen One was born? What were the odds? But then, that was the problem. It couldn’t have been coincidence. No flippin’ way. I guess I knew what I was doing in Carmine for the next few days.
“It’s an amazing talisman, Rachel. Thank you.”
After giving Rachel another hug, I picked up the medallion again and examined it closely. There was something about the way the power felt in my hand. It called to me. I felt connected to it. The longer I held it, the more the feeling settled within me. The magic of this artifact had chosen me, like I was freaking Frodo or something.
“It reminded me of the necklace you gave Dani,” Rachel whispered. She couldn’t take her eyes off the talisman, either. “It’s old and priceless, looking like that.”
She had no idea. I didn’t even want to know how much this might go for on the supernatural market. I’d bet there were any number of beings out there that would kill me on the spot in order to take this from me. I couldn’t believe it had ended up wasting away in the bottom of Rachel Webber’s coat closet. “I’d love to know more about it,” I said. “Do you remember Mr. Leventis’s son’s name, or where he’s from?”
“I’m not sure he would know. He had a falling out with his family. He hadn’t talked to his father in over forty years, but you’re welcome to try. His name is Edmond Leventis, and he lives in Sydney, Australia. I have an e-mail address, if you want it.”
Australia? He needed to get away from his father so bad he’d left the continent? Actually, I could understand the appeal of that, but it only solidified my suspicions that this guy knew what his dad was into. He would have answers for me if my father refused to give them.
“I’d like that,” I said. “And how about I leave you my new cell number, too. That way, you can always call and check on me.”
Rachel’s eyes glossed over with tears again. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’m sorry I haven’t kept in touch. I promise I’ll be better from now on.”
Rachel pulled me into her arms again. “You’d better, Russ. And tell your dad that he needs to come back and visit sometime, too.”
The second Clara and I left Rachel’s house, she whirled on me. “What was that back there?”
“What was what?”
Yeah, she didn’t go for it. Not that I’d thought she would. Playing dumb had simply been a knee-jerk reaction.
“Why did you look like that necklace was going to suck out your soul when she handed it to you?”
I debated, but, really, there was no harm in telling her about the talisman since she already knew about my ability to use the magic, and, for some cosmically unexplainable reason, was still trying to help me.
I pulled the talisman over my head and held it out to her. After a thorough inspection, she looked to me for an explanation.
“You can’t feel anything?”
She eyed me as if she thought I were losing my marbles. I wasn’t surprised. I knew she wouldn’t be able to feel it.
“It’s laced with a crap ton of power.”
“Not its—”
“The same power I used at the consulate.”
Clara’s eyes widened to twice their normal size. “It’s demonic?”
“No more than you.” After laughing at the irritated look on her face for a long, long time, I shrugged and gave her a real answer. “I don’t know. I’m not even sure if the magic I feel is demon magic. I’m not sure what else it could be, though. Considering the first time I felt it I’d been fighting a demon, I think it’s a safe assumption. That’s what Michael had assumed it was, anyway. But he didn’t have a clue what was going on, either.”
After pulling the necklace back over my head, I went to tuck my new talisman out of sight beneath my shirt, and Clara freaked. “You’re still going to wear it?”
“What else am I going to do with it?”
“Uh, it’s a demonic artifact. Destroy it, genius.”
“That is a stupid idea, for a plethora of reasons. One: This is my first and only clue as to what’s going on with me. I’m not getting rid of it. Two: Can you even destroy something infused with demon magic? I’m not sure, but I definitely don’t want to be the poor sucker who figures out that you can’t. Who knows what kind of boobie traps this thing has. And three: It was a gift from Rachel. I’m totally keeping it.”
Clara scoffed. “You’d keep an evil object just because someone gave it to you for your birthday? Nice priorities.”
Geez, she was annoying. I continued to examine my new trinket as I started the short trek back to my house. I didn’t wait for Clara to catch up. Didn’t really give a rat’s butt if she came or not. I was getting so sick of her. I’d decided ignoring her was the best way to survive her presence, but when she fell into step beside me, I couldn’t manage to keep my stupid trap shut. “Rachel’s not just someone, okay? She’s the only mother I’ve ever known.”
“But she’s not actually your mom. You do understand that, right? Just like Ethan’s not really your brother, and Leslie’s not your family, either.”
“They’re more my family than Simone is to you,” I shot back. It was a low blow, I knew, because Simone barely gave Clara the time of day and I knew that bothered Clara, but I was getting seriously pissed off. She could insult me all she wanted, but she couldn’t say anything about my family and friends. The Webbers and Ethan and his mom may not have been my blood, but they were my family. “Maybe that’s why you’re such a miserable, bitter girl who can’t make friends and only gets guys’ attention because you put out. You have no idea what love, family, and friendship really are. Try thinking about someone other than yourself for once, take that huge chip off your shoulder, and maybe people will actually like you.”
She stumbled to a stop, sucking in a sharp breath. I glanced over my shoulder just in time to see her eyes well up. “You know, Russ, I’m not surprised that you’re part demon or whatever, because you’re the meanest, nastiest, asshole with ice for a heart that ever existed.”
I wanted to throw an equally cutting insult back at her, but watching her swipe furiously at her tears—tears that I’d caused—I was racked with guilt. Seeing a girl cry was one of the things I hated more than anything, but I’d reduced Clara to tears twice now in as many days. Yeah, she was awful, but being mean and nasty, and hurting her on purpose just to be cruel? I wasn’t normally such a douche.
Maybe Clara was right. Maybe I was part demon, and my evil side was finally surfacing. If anyone could bring out my inner demons, it would definitely be Clara. But I didn’t feel any different. And I wasn’t being like this to anyone else. I’d loved seeing Rachel and John again. There was just something about Clara, specifically, that got my temper boiling. It had always been that way with her. Well, almost always, but I’ve tried to suppress that first week we met since the moment I woke up and realized how horrible she is.
Still, I didn’t like her, but I didn’t have to be such a jerk, either. I turned around to apologize, but the words wouldn’t come out of my mouth. I couldn’t tell her I was sorry, because I kind of wasn’t. I’d been harsh, but I’d also spoken the truth. There was a reason Clara didn’t have any friends besides Grace and Ethan. She really was a bitter, grouchy, rude, sarcastic, torture-to-be-around type of person. Instead of saying I was sorry, I hopped on the motorcycle sitting out front of my house and said, “I’m going to check out the Leventis farm. You coming or not?”
She climbed on the bike, glaring, but said nothing else. I’d taken the fight out of her. Again I felt a little guilt, but I didn’t know what to do about it, so I ignored it and focused on one problem at a time.
It was a quick three-minute drive to the Leventis farm. The house seemed cheerful and quaint, especially now that it had been cleaned up by Dani’s parents. With its beds of tulips and a massive oak tree complete with a swing shading the entire front of the house, it was easily a charming old farmhouse that could sucker some unsuspecting couple into their first mortgage.
“What a gorgeous house,” Clara mused, apparently having gotten over her latest mood swing. “It’s so charming.”
“Yeah, so was the house in The Amityville Horror,” I muttered.
Beyond its country-blue window shutters and wraparound porch, there was something sinister about the place. I felt it the instant I drove on the property. It was as if the house itself was warning people off from unseen dangers. The atmosphere around it was heavy and made the hairs on my arms stand up.
Clara rolled her eyes at me and climbed the porch steps. I tried to rub a sudden layer of goose bumps away as she peeked in the front windows. I started to follow her, but the closer I got to the house, the feeling inside me that I needed to turn away got so intense that my feet almost obeyed the command without my permission. If I hadn’t been desperate to figure out what was going on with me, and completely unwilling to look like a wimp in front of Clara, I would have gone home.
“What’s your problem?”
I couldn’t even defend myself. I was too busy staring at the house. I was sweating now. “There’s something wrong here. We should go. This was a bad idea.”
Clara snorted. “I can’t believe you’re afraid of an old house.”
She cast a spell that opened the front door, and all the air left my lungs. “Seriously, Clara. Don’t you feel it? There’s something—”
She disappeared inside. Part of me wanted to leave and let her fend for herself, but I couldn’t. I just knew, deep down in my gut, that this house was dangerous. I couldn’t let her stay and get hurt.
I forced myself forward and up the stairs. The steps up the front porch got harder to take with each one, and by the time I reached the front door I was nearly unable to move. Recognizing the use of magic, I wondered what the house was hiding that made wards necessary. And how in the world had Clara gotten past the magical bonds so easily?
It took all of my strength to reach the front door, but I was finally able to make it. I shouldn’t have. The instant I stepped a foot inside, crippling pain shot through my body with such a powerful force that I was blown backward down the front steps and into the yard.
The next thing I knew, my father was shouting from somewhere far away. His voice sounded muffled, as if it were trying to get to me through water. “What happened? Are you all right?”
“I’m okay.” Clara’s voice was even further away than Dad’s—a faint whisper drained of life. “Whatever happened to him was too intense for me. Some sort of poison or something, though I don’t know how that’s possible. I’ve been siphoning it out of him all day. Every time I stop, he has seizures or something.”
Seizures? Poison? That wasn’t right. It was that stupid house. It was warded.
“Sweetheart, you’re exhausted. Let me see if I can burn the rest out of him.”
Burn the what out of who? Crap. “This is going to be unpleasant.”
“Russ? Russ!” He breathed a sigh of relief when he saw me open my eyes. “Thank the Creator.”
When he smiled down at me with genuine fatherly love, I didn’t know how to respond. I was majorly disoriented, but not enough to forget that I hadn’t seen my dad in five months. I wasn’t out of it enough to forget that he’d lied to me my entire life, killed my mother, betrayed me, stabbed the girl I loved, and tried to kill half the human population by raising the Angel of Death. I’d known I was going to see him, but I still wasn’t prepared for it.
“Hang on, Russ. This is really going to hurt.”
Worse than it already did? I tried to sit up, which was a mistake. My entire body ached, as if I’d just lost a battle with a gauntlet. I also felt slightly sizzled. My brain was trying to push its way through my skull, and my stomach…
My dad lifted his hands over me and whispered one of his healing spells. When I realized what was happening, I braced myself for the pain—being healed from physical injuries hurt—but even for a powerful healing spell, this pain sucked worse than anything I’d ever experienced.
For one intense minute, it felt as if my soul were being ripped from my body. I screamed as magical fire tore through me and cleansed me of whatever poisons the house’s wards left behind in my body. It was so bad that I rolled onto my side and puked all over my father’s shiny, expensive shoes.
When the pain finally receded, my dad collapsed next to me, panting and sweating in exhaustion. Once he caught his breath, he looked at his feet and sighed. “Well, there go my brand-new John Lobbs.”
I didn’t have it in me to laugh. I was still trying to figure out what the heck had just happened. I was home now, lying on the living room sofa. The last thing I could remember was wanting to throttle Clara for going into that house when I had warned her not to. “Where’s Clara? Did the house eat her?”
Dad smirked. I didn’t have a clue what was so funny until he lifted his eyes above my head. I followed his gaze and realized Clara was not only sitting right there, but that my head was resting in her freaking lap. I must have been more out of it than I thought.