The Uprising (Moonlight Wolves Book 3)

by Jasmine B. Waters

  Monica tossed her blonde hair. “Well, yeah, but Elizabeth—think of how many people Prudence has killed over the years, will you? I mean, she’s one person. But she’s murdered hundreds!” Monica walked over to the window and yanked the blinds up. “And look outside,” Monica added. “Our town is going fucking nuts, all because of Prudence.”

  I sighed. “I still don’t like it,” I said.

  Monica frowned. “I thought you’d be happy,” she said. “I mean, isn’t this better than cutting her heart out?”

  My stomach churned and hot bile rushed up my throat. I nodded, swallowing the acrid liquid. Wincing, I reached for a glass of water and took a sip.

  “We have to think of a plan,” Monica said. “We need to get her in a trance, right?”

  I sighed. “I guess.”

  “So…” Monica chewed on her lip. “You have to make her think that you’re really sorry.”

  “About what?” I narrowed my eyes. “I haven’t done anything.”

  Monica rolled her eyes. “Well, for one, you fucked her brother,” she said. “I mean, come on.”

  I blushed hotly. “I’m not confessing to that,” I said.

  “Well, think of something else.” Monica tapped her chin with her fingers. “Like, okay, how about this? How about you go over and pretend you’re confessing on behalf of me, that I’m so bad that you’re feeling like you’re damned just from being friends with me.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know,” I said. “Do you really think she’d go for that? Wouldn’t she see right through me?”

  Monica shrugged. “No,” she said. “I don’t think so. Those Christian types… they’re rabid for guilt, aren’t they?”

  “I guess.”

  “So, you call her and tell her you want to confess. Then go over there and make shit up. I’ll put her in a trance. We can take her body to Henrik and Ligeia. They’ll know what to do.”

  “I can’t find the coven on my own,” I said, frowning deeply. “Ligeia told me I couldn’t until I’m strong enough.”

  “I think putting Andrea in a trance would make you strong enough,” Monica said. She raised her eyebrows at me. “Besides, I can always find it—you can just follow behind.”

  I bit my lip, hard. Blood seeped into my mouth and I swallowed. Somehow, it didn’t exactly help with my nausea.

  “Okay,” I said. “I mean, I guess I have to. When do you want to do it?”

  Monica checked her watch. “It’s only two,” she said. “Call her now and tell her you want to come over this afternoon. Don’t mention Steven at all,” she said warily. “And if she asks, just pretend like you’ve lost interest.”

  My stomach churned. “To be honest, that wouldn’t be much of a lie,” I said. “His weird behavior and that whole scene last time… ugh.”

  Monica nodded. “Good,” she said. “Just think about that whenever she asks. Your disgust is pretty clear.”

  I reached for my phone and dialed the D’Amicos’ house, my heart flickering in my chest.

  “Hello?”

  I cleared my throat. “Hi, is this Mrs. D’Amico?”

  “Yes.” She sounded suspicious. “Who is this?”

  I blushed crimson red. “It’s Elizabeth Hartsell,” I said. “May I please speak to Andrea?”

  There was a pause. “May I ask why?”

  Inwardly, I groaned.

  “Sure,” I said. “I want to confess to her.” I made my voice sugary sweet. “I want to make sure she understands how sorry I am.”

  “Andrea!” Mrs. D’Amico called. “Elizabeth is on the phone for you!”

  God, how insufferable, I thought as I chewed my lip, waiting to hear the high-pitched sound of Andrea’s voice.

  “Hello, Elizabeth,” Andrea said. “My mother said you wanted to speak with me.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I mean, yes. But can I come over? This would probably be better in person,” I added. “I want to confess. I’ve been feeling so horrible and guilty about everything, and I just wanted you to know how deeply I mean it.”

  I could practically hear Andrea smiling through the phone. “Sure, Elizabeth,” she said sweetly. “Why not come over right now?”

  Shit.

  “How about in a few hours?” I asked timidly. “I have to help my mother with a few things first.”

  “Oh, okay. That’s so nice of you, Elizabeth. We should always help our families.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Sounds good. I’ll see you soon.”

  We hung up and I threw the phone into my pillows.

  “What?” Monica frowned. “That sounded like it went well.”

  “Her parents are home,” I hissed. “How the hell are we supposed to pull this off if they’re around?”

  Monica looked troubled. “I don’t know,” she said. “But we have to try. I can handle them if necessary.”

  I stared. “You’re kidding.”

  “I don’t mean hurt them or anything,” Monica said quickly. She looked guilty. “You know. Just, uh, make sure they stay out of it.”

  I frowned. “This isn’t going to work,” I groaned. I buried my face in my hands. “We’re totally screwed.”

  Monica sighed heavily. “We’ve got to try,” she said softly. “Elizabeth, that’s all we can do.”

  “I know,” I said grimly. “I’m just not looking forward to it. Not at all.”

  Chapter Five

  When I got to the D’Amicos, I felt the same sense of dread and unease that I’d felt before. The only thing that made me feel better was the absence of cars in the driveway… including Steven’s.

  Andrea smiled brightly at me when she opened the door. I noticed that she was still limping faintly, and I immediately wondered whether it was a ruse.

  “Hi, Elizabeth,” Andrea chirped. “It’s so nice to see you. I asked everyone to give us some privacy.” She leaned in close and I resisted the urge to jump back. “I mean, I assume you’re going to tell me some really private things.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Thanks for not minding.”

  “It wasn’t a problem,” Andrea said. “Come with me.”

  It felt weird being inside the D’Amicos’ house without Steven. The last time I’d hung out there with just Andrea and Monica, it had been years ago—before that whole séance fiasco. Thinking about that was almost painful… it made me wonder if we’d ever been normal little girls.

  “What are you thinking about?”

  I sighed. “Honestly, I was thinking about all of the times when Monica and I would come over here to play.”

  Andrea’s smile faded. “Monica is evil,” she said flatly. “I never should have ever entertained the idea of being her friend.”

  “It was a long time ago,” I said quickly. “I know things are different now.”

  That reply seemed to satisfy Andrea. She smiled and led me into the living room. There were two cushions on the floor and I leaned down to pick them up.

  “Oh, no,” Andrea said. She smiled at me. “We’re going to kneel together and pray. And then, you may confess.” Her voice was benevolent, yet condescending.

  “Ah,” I said. “Okay. That sounds good.” It didn’t sound good—warning bells erupted in my head. What if she tries to put ME in a trance, I wondered as I kneeled, wincing as I settled on the thin pillow. The pillow wasn’t thick enough to shield my knees from the wooden floor and I was almost instantly in pain.

  Andrea settled down next to me, looking as smug and comfortable as a queen on her throne.

  “Holy Father,” Andrea began, closing her eyes and bowing her head. I immediately copied her gesture. “We’re here today to speak to Elizabeth Hartsell, a fallen woman who has come to confess her sins.”

  I rolled my eyes. Fallen woman? What the hell does that even mean?

  Andrea nudged me with her elbow. “Pray,” she said. “It’s your time to speak to the Holy Father and tell him why you’re here.”

  “Um, okay.” I shifted nervously on the pillow, trying t
o find a comfortable spot for my knees. “Holy Father, please forgive me. I’ve sinned, and I greatly regret my past actions. The guilt is so upsetting to me.”

  Andrea turned to me. “You can be specific,” she said sweetly. “Holy Father prefers total openness.”

  “I haven’t always been a good daughter,” I said, fumbling for the words Monica and I’d rehearsed just hours ago. “And I haven’t been a godly friend.”

  “That’s good,” Andrea praised. “Keep going, Elizabeth.”

  My mind started to slow down. Fuck. She’s doing the same thing as before!

  “Um,” I said, stalling for time. “I’ve lied to my mother—I told her I was going to visit Monica, and really I was going on a walk. And I stood by and watched the police take Steven while they told me to go inside, even though we both violated curfew.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Thank you, Holy Father, for listening to the sins of a fallen woman.” The phrase tumbled out of my mouth and I tried not to cringe.

  “Good,” Andrea praised. She shifted her legs, crossing them underneath her. I noticed she didn’t wince when her weight landed on the leg that had been broken.

  Relieved to be off my knees, I did the same.

  “So, Elizabeth, what did you want to confess to me? It won’t be the same as praying, exactly, but you’ll feel better. You’ll feel so much more pure.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Um, give me a minute.” Just as I went to speak, my mind went blank. Suddenly, I felt my limbs twitching—almost like I’d felt before, right when Andrea had begun controlling me. No, I thought. This can’t happen again! This was my last chance!

  “Elizabeth? Are you feeling unwell?”

  “No,” I said quickly. “I’m fine.” I sighed. Oh, yeah, Monica! Talk about Monica!

  “Whenever you’re ready,” Andrea said in a pleasant voice. “Go ahead.”

  “It’s about Monica,” I said quickly.

  Andrea’s smile vanished. “I’ve told you. Monica is an evil girl, and we’re not going to discuss her.”

  “It’s not about that,” I said. “I’m worried about her. I’m worried about her soul, Andrea. And I feel so horrible for the way she has treated you.”

  Andrea looked suspicious. “But you’re her best friend.”

  “I know,” I replied. “But, um, you see… I’m starting to… uh…”

  Again, the words vanished from my head.

  “Elizabeth, I’m not sure what you’re playing at,” Andrea said calmly. “I know the real reason why you’re here. You’re here to talk about Steven, aren’t you?”

  “What?”

  Andrea smiled. “You’re here to confess to performing wicked, sinful deeds with my poor brother and ensnaring him in your devilish ways.”

  “No,” I said quickly, blushing hotly. “I’m not. Andrea, I swear—that isn’t why I’ve come.”

  Andrea stretched. “Well, I know it’s true,” she said stonily. “So, you may as well just confess now, Elizabeth, before I have you imprisoned.”

  “For what?” My jaw dropped. “I haven’t even done anything wrong!”

  Andrea stood, her eyes flashing with anger. “That’s what you say,” she said. “But I know you, Elizabeth. You’re a liar.”

  No, no, this can’t be happening. I felt my limbs growing heavy and sluggish. If I don’t do something now, it’ll be too late, I realized as panic flooded my body. This is my last chance.

  I got to my feet and charged at Andrea. Her mouth formed a small ‘o’ of surprise as she skidded backwards, her feet dragging on the wooden floor. With all of my strength, I pinned her on the ground.

  “Elizabeth, stop this,” Andrea shouted. “You stop it right now or you’ll regret it!” Her pupils were pools of ominous blackness. “You stop!”

  “No,” I grunted, grabbing Andrea by the shoulder and trying to drag her out of the house. “You’re coming with me!”

  “No!” Andrea shrieked. She opened her mouth and wailed, screaming and crying at the top of her lungs. The sound was piercingly loud and I gritted my teeth as my head ached from the force of her cries. I knew that Monica must be able to hear—she was crouched right outside the window. But when I turned my gaze to look, I saw that she was standing and peering inside, looking horrified and scared.

  Andrea turned her head to follow my gaze. When she saw Monica, her face turned murderous.

  “I should’ve known,” Andrea said. She spat at me and I cringed as warm saliva dripped down my face. “You’re both evil women!”

  “No,” I shouted. “Leave her alone!” Mentally, as I stared at Monica’s figure, I wondered why she wasn’t moving. Then I realized—she was frozen in place. Oh, my God, I thought as my heart raced. We’re so fucked. Monica isn’t as strong as she thought, and Andrea is more powerful than both of us!

  “You stay here,” Andrea growled. Suddenly, my legs turned to frozen jelly and I collapsed with a hard thud on the living room floor. When I tried to move, a hot bolt of pain shot through my body and I screamed. It felt like I was being pulled apart, limb from limb.

  Andrea smiled down at me. “That doesn’t feel nice, does it,” she said, cocking her head to the side and glaring. “That’s what it feels like when you’re put upon the rack. I know what that’s like, Elizabeth. And you’re going to find out.”

  “No,” I whimpered weakly. I could barely move my lips, and the sound wasn’t even as loud as a whisper. The only thing that I could feel moving in my body was adrenaline, rushing through my veins and pumping through each limb. Please, no.

  Andrea looked down at me and smiled again. “You really thought you could outsmart me, Elizabeth?” She threw her head back and laughed. “The whole town is on my side. Everyone except you and Monica! Your own brother even turned you in,” she added smugly.

  Tears welled up in my eyes but my arms were bound to my side. I felt helpless as hot salt water spilled down my cheeks and dripped onto the floor.

  “I really should have known better than to even think about trusting you,” Andrea said. She shook her head and an edge of venom came into her voice. “Things have been going downhill for centuries. And this is what you deserve.”

  Her words sent a chill down my spine. I knew what Monica had told me—that Andrea was a reincarnation of Prudence Arrowsmith, Ligeia’s fanatical younger sister. But even though I’d believed her—truly—at the time, this was still stranger than anything else that had happened thus far. A cold fright settled over my body and I shuddered.

  Andrea sighed loudly. “Don’t go anywhere,” she said in a snide voice. “I’ll be right back.”

  I could only lie there, helpless, as Andrea flounced down the hall. I listened as Andrea’s footsteps faded away. The front door opened and closed. Please, Monica, run away. Find your strength and find the coven—Henrik will know what to do!

  As soon as the door slammed shut once again, I gasped. A heavy, thumping sound filled the living room and I gasped when I saw Andrea dragging Monica’s slight, prone figure across the floor. Monica’s eyes were closed and she looked weak and stiff.

  “Now… what am I going to do with you?” Andrea said. She set Monica down on the floor. She wasn’t even breathing hard, or heaving from the effort of dragging Monica’s body. Somehow, that made my predicament all the more terrifying.

  “Please,” I whimpered. “Please, Andrea, have mercy.”

  Andrea laughed. “No,” she said.

  “It would be the Christian thing to do,” I added softly. Even making the effort to speak was excruciatingly painful. My lips and tongue were dry and cracked, but I forced myself to keep talking. “It’s what you should do.”

  Andrea stared at me. “No,” she said. “I can’t. You and Monica have taken advantage of my trust too many times. I’m going to keep you both here until the Church and I decide what to do with you.”

  Andrea picked up Monica’s supine body with ease and carried her across the floor. This time, there was no
limp from her injured leg. Fucking liar, I thought as I watched her carry the body of my best friend down the hall.

  I thought back to that night at the hospital. Andrea had looked so weak and sick—had it all been an act?

  When I heard Andrea open the door to the basement and go down the stairs, I knew that we were in immediate danger. Andrea’s parents—not to mention Steven—could be home at any minute, and if I didn’t do something fast, Monica and I were helpless.

  I have to help her. I have to save her, and then we can find the coven and everything will be okay. Yeah, things will be fine.

  Gritting my teeth, I tried to sit up. Pain racked my body and I cried out, biting my lip to cover the sound. Even moving just a few inches was the most pain I’d ever experienced in my life, and fresh tears filled my eyes as the agonizing sensations vibrated through my limbs again and again. I gritted my teeth and grabbed the edge of the couch, hauling myself to my feet.

  Yeah. I can do this. I can do this, I can defeat her. I know I can. I know I’m strong enough. Yeah, just keep going. Just keep moving.

  Only by grabbing the edges of the furniture did I manage to haul myself through the living room and down the stairs. Tears streamed down my face and I knew I made too much noise, but so far, Andrea had yet to come running. Somehow, I knew that was a bad sign—she was obviously too pre-occupied with Monica to worry about me.

  When I got into the basement, I gasped. Monica was bound and gagged, tied to a chair as Andrea stood before her, clutching a Bible and a crucifix. When Andrea saw me, she dropped the Bible and gasped.

  “You!” Andrea growled. “How did you get down here?”

  It’s now or never, I told myself. You can do this.

  Launching off the railing, I pushed myself forward and held my arms out straight, trying hard to push through the intense pain plaguing my body. My hands landed on Andrea and I pushed her back, knocking her to the concrete floor. As soon as her concentration was broken, the pain stopped and I felt my limbs break free of her curse. Wrapping my hands around her throat, I squeezed.

  Andrea shrieked and yowled. She formed her hands into claws and scratched and scraped at my face, desperately trying to free herself. Guilt formed in my mind, but as soon as I remembered Monica, I squeezed harder and harder. Andrea’s face changed from pale to blue to purple to a sickly kind of green, but I didn’t stop. I grunted, shoving my full weight against her body until her lids fluttered closed.