by Sarra Cannon
Brooke's eyes widened. “How do you know? Did you see something?”
“Not exactly,” I said. “I was in the bathroom when it happened. I didn't see who did it, but I ran out as soon as I heard the scream.”
“Then how do you know Jackson didn't do it?”
I shook my head. “I just know.”
“Harper Madison?”
I looked down at the woman who had called my name. It was the same lady Sheriff Hollingsworth had spoken to before she took Jackson away. “Yes?”
“You and your friends need to come with me.”
I Might Have Seen Something Important
The woman introduced herself as Madelyn Carr. Brooke and the others seemed to already know her. She said she was a friend of the sheriff's, and I took that to mean she was a member of the Order.
“The police told us to stay here for questioning,” I said.
“Not you guys,” she said. “I've been instructed to take you to Mr. Ashworth's house right away. Your limousine is waiting for us out front.”
I looked at all the students who had to stay behind. They might be there all night, waiting to have questions barked at them. Most of them looked scared. Many of them were crying. It didn't seem fair that they all had to wait while we got whisked away in a limo. Besides, I had seen the murderer. I felt certain of it.
“I think I should talk to the police,” I said. “I might have seen something important.”
“This isn't up for debate, Miss Madison,” Madelyn said. “We leave now. There's no time to waste.”
I sat back down on the bleachers. “I'm not going anywhere.”
Drake gripped my arm. “Harper, now is not the time to be fooling around.”
“Ow,” I said. I yanked my arm away from him. “Don't ever touch me like that again.”
“Whoa, why are you so angry? She's giving us a free ride here, and you're treating everyone like garbage.”
Madelyn Carr signaled to a couple of officers, and I watched with dread as the two men walked toward us. “Officers, I need you to escort these teenagers to the limousine outside. If you have to, you are authorized to use force in order to get Miss Madison to the car.”
I opened my mouth in protest, but my voice caught in my throat as the two policemen climbed up the three rows of bleachers toward me.
I stood and held my hand out in front of me. “I'll go,” I said. My voice was barely a whisper.
Once inside the car, I sat alone. Drake and Foster took seats at the very front. Lark, Allison and Brooke were huddled together on one side of the limo. Brooke's eyes stayed trained on me the entire time, but I avoided her gaze. She was one of them now. She couldn't be trusted.
The two guys who had come to the dance with Lark and Allison looked terrified. It was obvious they had no idea what was going on or why we had been chosen to leave when everyone else had to stay. They were smart enough to keep their mouths closed, though.
“Boys, please give the driver your addresses,” Madelyn told them. “We're going to drop you off at your houses first.”
The guys recited their addresses and the driver took them home immediately. Then, he turned onto the street where Drake lived. Even though we'd been going out for a while, I'd never actually been inside his house. Drake had driven me by here once just to show me where he lived, but he never invited me inside or anything.
The Ashworths lived in luxury, just like everyone else in this limousine. Excluding me, of course. Their home was a blue, three-story house built before the Civil War. Pretty white shutters adorned all of the many windows in the front of the house. The limousine pulled into the white, dome-shaped carport attached to the left side of the house and everyone got out. Several women, including Mrs. Ashworth, were waiting to usher us into the house.
Mrs. Ashworth looked around, squinting into the darkness. Was she looking for the hooded figure? It definitely seemed like the Order was trying to protect us from something, but if they thought Jackson was the murderer, why would they bother? They already had him in custody.
The fear on Mrs. Ashworth's face told me that the Order knew Jackson Hunt wasn't responsible for Morgyn's death. Now, they were surrounding me with witches who could keep me safe if the assassin came for me.
Madelyn led us down to the basement and told us to stay put. There was a pool table, a large flat-screen TV, and several leather couches down there, but there was no door to the outside. I felt like a prisoner.
“At least there's a bar down here,” Drake said. He walked over to the mahogany bar in the far corner and set up several crystal glasses with ice. “Who wants one?”
I eyed him angrily. Great, just what I needed. Drunk Drake was much worse than sober Drake, and I already felt like I'd had more of him than I could take in a lifetime. Screw his mother's wishes, there was no way I was going out with him again.
“Load me up,” Foster said. “Brooke?”
“I’d better not,” she said. She had finally stopped staring at me. I think she was annoyed that she was down here with us instead of upstairs with the other members of the Order.
“Harper?”
I looked at him like he'd lost his freakin' marbles. “No thanks.”
“Well, I'm pouring you one anyway,” he said. His voice was full of laughter. “Out of all of us, I think you need one the most.”
He poured vodka into a glass, then topped it with cranberry juice. “Here.”
“Are you joking? I just saw a girl bleed to death in front of my very own eyes and the guy who lives next door to me was arrested for stabbing her in the heart and murdering her. I don't really feel like partying right now.”
Drake stepped away, as if I had slapped him across the face. I looked away from him and down at my shoes. Only I wasn't wearing any shoes. Damn! I'd left them in the gym. With horror, I noticed the edges of my blue dress were beginning to turn black. Cinderella was about to turn back into a pumpkin, or however the story goes. And I had nothing else to wear.
I looked frantically at Lark. She told me not to ever let anyone know about the glamours. If the Order found out we were doing magic beyond our level, we could get into some serious trouble. It only figured that my glamour would wear off now, when we were in a house full of members of the Order.
“Lark, can I talk to you for a minute?” I asked.
She stood and joined me over near the stairs.
“Look,” I said. I pointed toward the hem of my dress. The black section was small and faint, but it was definitely there.
She pulled in a long breath. “Oh, god. This isn't good.”
“Can you change it back?”
She shook her head. “Not here in front of everyone like this. It would draw too much attention.”
“More attention than my dress suddenly turning black?”
“You've got a point there,” she said. She bit her lower lip and made a soft whining noise. “I honestly don't think I could concentrate enough to do it even if I wanted to.”
“I'll figure something out,” I said.
Lark went back to sit down, but her face looked pale and worried. If the Order found out, it might even get her mother into trouble. Plus, if they knew the extent of the glamours I could perform, they might figure out what I'd seen, and I couldn't let that happen.
I had an idea.
I walked up the stairs. Madelyn Carr was standing there, guarding the entrance to the basement. “Miss Carr?”
“I need you to stay downstairs, Harper.”
“I know, and I'm sorry I haven't been very cooperative,” I said. “It's just been a really stressful night.”
“I'm sure it has,” she said. Her features softened a bit. “Did you need something?”
“I'm just feeling really cold.” I pointed to my feet. “And I left my shoes at the gym. Is there any way I could get some clothes to change into?” I rubbed my palms up and down my arms, as if trying to get warm.
“Aww, you poor thing, I hadn't even realized how cold it mu
st be down there,” she said. “Hold on just a minute and I'll see if Mrs. Ashworth has something you can wear.”
She stepped away for a minute, then came back with a plastic bag full of clothes. “Here,” she said. “You can go into the bathroom in Mrs. Ashworth's study to change. I'll wait here outside the door for you, okay?”
I thanked her and stepped into the cool, dark study. The light in the bathroom was on, and as I crossed through the room, a black bag caught my eye. At first, I barely noticed it, but something tugged at my mind. I shook it off and closed myself in the bathroom. Thankfully Mrs. Ashworth was about my size. I put on the pink velour track suit, white t-shirt, thick socks, and white tennis shoes. I stuffed the fading dress into the shopping bag and tied it closed.
Quickly, I made my way through the study again. I looked at the black bag, trying to figure out where I'd seen it before. Then, it hit me. This was the bag Brooke had taken out to the clearing that night she gave me the tattoo. As quietly as I could, I unzipped the bag, then choked back a scream. Strapped inside was a silver dagger with blue stones on the handle.
Anything For Drake's Girl
Mrs. Ashworth knocked on the door to the study.
“Harper? Is everything okay in there?”
Crap.
I zipped the bag and stood. “Just finishing up,” I said. I made sure everything looked exactly the same as when I'd come in, then opened the door. My heart was racing. “Thanks again for the clothes. I really appreciate it.”
“Oh, it's no problem at all,” she said. “Anything for Drake's girl.”
I almost gagged. Could this night possibly get any worse?
“Here, let me take that dress. I'll have it dry-cleaned for you,” she said. She tried to take the plastic bag from my hand, but I pulled it away.
“No thanks,” I said. “I've got it.”
She pressed her lips together and folded her arms across her chest. “All right, dear. Let me know if you need anything downstairs. Are you hungry at all?”
The thought of food made me nauseated. “Why are we here?”
She raised her eyebrows. “We just want to make sure all of you are safe, that's all.”
“You don't think Jackson killed that girl, do you?”
“I hardly think now is the time to discuss this,” she said. “Miss Carr, will you escort Harper back to the basement, please?”
“Wait,” I said. Obviously my ultra-direct questions weren't going to work. “I'm just really scared. You have to understand that. Why would you bring us here unless you thought we were in some kind of danger? Please, can you at least tell me what's going on out there?”
Mrs. Ashworth sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Everything is going to be okay. In time, I promise I'll explain everything to you, but not tonight. Miss Carr?”
I made my way back down to the basement, my mind full of new questions. The dagger from the black bag was an exact match to the one that killed Morgyn. I'd been so certain the dark figure in the gym was an Other, but now I couldn't be sure. How would the Others have gotten hold of one of the Order's sacred ritual daggers?
The actual dagger that killed Morgyn had been taken into evidence by Officer Grey at the school. I saw him put it into a large plastic bag. That meant there were at least two daggers that looked exactly the same. Possibly more. If I could figure out the significance of the dagger, maybe I could also figure out who killed Morgyn Baker.
You Wait Just A Minute
I couldn't sleep. Every time I closed my eyes, I kept seeing Jackson hovering over Morgyn's dead body, blood everywhere. Jackson kept looking up at me and asking me to help him. But I was so helpless. No one believed me when I said he was innocent. Once Mrs. Ashworth finally released us from her basement, I had gone to the police station and tried to file a report about the figure I'd seen fleeing the scene, but Sheriff Hollingsworth dismissed my story. She tried to convince me I was merely stressed out and suggested I see a doctor about my hallucinations.
According to the news, Jackson still hadn't been charged with murder, but to most, that didn't mean he was innocent. Most people had already convicted him in their minds and now were just waiting to put the final nail in his coffin. The dagger was the primary piece of evidence, and Jackson's fingerprints were all over it. Plus, dozens of students were on hand to testify that they had seen Jackson kneeling over Morgyn's body.
I followed the story throughout the week. Every day when I got home from cheer practice, I turned on the five o'clock news and waited to hear the latest. The closest local news station was in Macon, which was a good forty miles away. They covered Morgyn's murder pretty heavily the first couple of days, but by now, nearing a week since she died, the news had grown pretty scattered.
Scattered like my brain. I couldn't concentrate in class. I wasn't doing a very good job learning the new spells. It was like everyone at school had simply accepted Morgyn's death and Jackson's guilt, and moved on. Mrs. King kept a close eye on me, but the immediate danger seemed to have passed.
All anyone wanted to talk about these days was the chance the Demons would be going to the playoffs. No one seemed to care that three different girls had been killed since school started in August. Of course, as far as the general community was concerned, Morgyn was pretty low on the totem pole. After all, she wasn't a precious cheerleader.
But what about the Order? Mrs. Ashworth had to be concerned about the possible repercussions of Morgyn's death. Somewhere out there was a demon gate who had just lost their Prima. It was possible Morgyn wasn't the only Prima still alive from whatever town she belonged to, but if she was, I knew that more than one person had died on Saturday night. Of course, if some kind of mass murder had occurred, no matter where in the country, that probably would have made national headlines.
As I lay in bed, I also wondered about Morgyn's grandmother. What was her story? There was something strange about the way she'd shown up out of the blue to take Morgyn off the cheerleading team. And why wasn't Morgyn immediately taken back to her home demon gate once they found out she was a Prima? She'd said she still had to perform a service for the Order, but she'd never told me what it was.
I sat up and paced the room. It was obvious my mind wasn't going to just let this whole thing go. I couldn't do what the rest of the town was doing and just let Jackson take the fall for this. I also couldn't let Morgyn die without justice. Her killer was still loose out there, and I intended to figure out just who that was.
I figured my best bet at getting answers was to go straight to Jackson Hunt. Unfortunately, he was still locked up at the local jail. It wasn't exactly the kind of place that allowed regular visitors.
Still, the next day after school I stopped by the Sheriff's department to see if anyone would let me talk to him. Of course, first I spent some time behind the station working up a glamour that made me look about fifteen years older with brown hair and glasses. I told the bearded officer at the front desk I had an appointment to see Jackson Hunt.
“What was your name again?” The man eyed me with suspicion.
“Lacy Cranwell,” I lied. “I'm an attorney who works for the family.”
The officer wasn't buying it. “Well, Miss Cranwell, unless you have a signed statement from his mother, I can't let you in to talk to Jackson Hunt.”
Then, I had an idea. “I'd like to talk to your supervisor,” I demanded. “Ella Mae Hunt will not be happy about this. I have a good mind to call the State Police and let them know you're refusing council to a minor.”
The man's face went red with anger. “You wait just a minute—”
“No, you wait,” I said. I gave him my best voice of authority and straightened my shoulders. “I asked to speak to the supervising officer, and if you don't go and get him or her, I will write down your badge number and make sure Sheriff Hollingsworth hears about this.”
The officer's nostrils flared and he took in several huffing breaths. I stood my ground and finally he waddled off to the back room. Quickl
y, I moved around to the other side of the desk and checked the work schedule for the next week. Luckily, it wasn't hard to find. They had it tacked up on the bulletin board just behind the desk.
Officer James Ellis was scheduled to work Friday evening during the football game. Alone.
By the time the bearded officer came back with his supervisor, Lacy Cranwell was long gone.
The Elixir Of Kendria
“What is with you lately?” Brooke set her lunch on the table and sat next to me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you're moody. Ever since Homecoming. You aren't acting like yourself,” she said.
She was one to talk. “I'm fine.”
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and tried to smile. Drake put his arm around me and I wanted to scream. With everything that had been going on, I hadn't found the right time to officially break things off between us.
“Well, this Friday is the last regular game of the season, so we really need you to be one hundred percent,” Brooke said.
“This won't be the last game, though,” Foster said. He looked at Brooke, but she'd been completely ignoring him for the past several days. I could tell he was both hurt and confused by her sudden change in behavior.
“Not a chance,” Drake chimed in. “Win or lose Friday night, we're probably still going to the finals. If we win, we're definitely in. If we lose, then it all depends on what the Red Devils do over in Hawkinsville. If they win, we're out, but if they lose, it's us against Northridge in two weeks.”
“Either way,” Brooke said. “We still need to make sure all our girls are feeling good and ready to perform. You haven't been feeling sick have you?”
“She's fine,” Lark said, coming to my defense. “Jeez, give the girl some space. Last weekend was rough on everyone.”
Under the table, I squeezed her hand in thanks and she winked at me.