Elementris, Exposure, Eruption Box set: The Vangeretta Curse Series

by Christina Mobley

  Elementris

  The Vangeretta Curse

  Christina Mobley

  Sale of this book without a front cover may be unauthorized. If this book is coverless, it may have been reported to the publisher as “unsold or destroyed” and neither the author nor the publisher may have received payment for it.

  Copyright ©2012 by Christina Mobley

  All rights reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales in entirely coincidental.

  First published in the United States in July, 2012. For information about permissions to reproduce selections from this book, write to Permissions, Christina Mobley, at vangeretta@yahoo.com

  The Library of Congress has cataloged this edition as follows:

  Mobley, Christina. The Vangeretta Curse, Elementris/Christina Mobley p.cm. YA, fiction.

  ISBN: 978-1468121353.

  Thank You:

  Melissa, for your amazing ability to know exactly what I wanted to say.

  Kevin, for overlooking the hours I spent tapping at the keys, and being completely supportive. I love you.

  Vivian, for listening to me ramble about TVC. Now the world will know the story you and I have come to love.

  Alicia. Your great eye for detail and your enthusiasm for TVC helped the story in many ways.

  To my family and friends, for supporting me and cheering me on.

  Prologue…

  A single bud formed on the end of a long thorny stem. The smell of fresh cut grass floated in the air. The sound of a summer storm echoed across the sky. Lightning and teasing thunder surrounded the small town. Little fingers pressed against the rain sprinkled glass, heated hand prints leaving marks on the weathered window. Her mother stared up at her for a moment, closed her eyes, and got in the car.

  The fiery-haired little girl screamed from the upstairs window, her tears falling freely as her mother drove away. A music box lay on the floor, broken; somehow its merry tune still playing. She pressed her face against the foggy window, begging for her mother to come back as she pounded her little fist against the glass. Loud thunder shook the window and lightning popped in the wind. Then…at just five years old, Ava Vangeretta had no idea that the elements were responding to her pain and that one day she would have the power to conjure a storm of her own. She had no idea why her mother was leaving her there. Not until years later would she know it was because of her gift; the gift of a True Elementris.

  She knew she was different and she hid her strange abilities the best she could, but keeping the magic under control was hard. Ava tried; she knew her mother didn’t like it. It scared her and she would get so mad at Ava. That last morning her mother caught her in the kitchen; her cereal milk swirling above the bowl. She tried to stop it, she just didn’t know how.

  Ava was six when Aunt Avalene told her about her gift, ten years old the last time her mother came to visit, eleven when she swore she would never use it again. It is supposed to be a gift. A gift inherited through the Vangeretta family. The ancient magic is in her blood and she is the youngest witch, wizard, or what have you, in her family, but all she wants is to be normal.

  Chapter One…

  Ava tapped her pencil on the desk wishing time would tick by faster. She was careful not to wish to hard though. She glanced at Troy Drake. He was finishing up a science test, scrunching his eyebrows and generally just being adorable. He pushed a little too hard on his pencil and broke the lead. He watched the broken piece roll off the desk and then glanced at Ava, his pale blue eyes melting her as usual, “Can I borrow a pencil?”

  “Sure,” she reached over, “Here,” she said handing him hers. “I’m done anyway.”

  He smiled and took it, his hand barely grazing her fingers. She blushed and looked away, doubting that he noticed the faint brush of their fingertips. She noticed though. She’s noticed everything about Troy Drake since they were in the second grade when he kicked Bobby Ranson for putting dirt in her hair and making her cry. She smiled at the memory as the bell rang.

  “Bring your tests to the front,” Ms. Bishop ordered. Her lips tight and narrow, her eyes darting as she held her hand out.

  Ava slipped her purse over her shoulder and handed her the finished test.

  “You still owe me a make-up test Avalene.”

  Ava spoke between clenched teeth, “Yes ma’am,” hating when someone called her by her real name. Avalene was fine for her aunt, but she preferred Ava. Most of the teachers called her Ava, but Ms. Bishop was not like most teachers. She was rigid and strict. Ava imagined that she had too many cats and lived by herself somewhere.

  “Ava,” Troy stopped her by the door, “your pencil.” He held it out to her and winked, “Thanks.”

  She smiled willing her cheeks not to turn red, “You’re welcome.”

  He stepped just outside the doorway, but stopped suddenly and looked back over his shoulder at her. She stared back, his brown hair was sticking up in the messy way he wore it and the faint smile on his lips was making her stomach do flips. She swallowed hard.

  The moment was quickly interrupted by Jenna Ross. “I missed you babe,” she whispered in his ear, just loud enough for Ava to hear.

  Jenna was one of those classic snobby girls like you see on television. You know the kind, the one that haunts every other girl who has flaws. Jenna doesn’t have a flaw, not a single one. She has this incredible blonde hair that is like silk that lies perfectly over her tanned shoulders. Her big blue eyes and general all-American girl look darn near make her perfect. She does have one small defect though, her heart; she doesn’t have one. If she does, it definitely doesn’t work right. She might flash her dazzling smile or flutter her long eyelashes and act like she is little miss "God bless us everyone,” but inside she is mean. She’s the worst kind of nasty nice.

  Troy gave Ava one more glance before taking Jenna’s perfectly manicured hand as they turned to walk down the hall

  “Was that a moment?” Brea said coming up behind her. “I totally saw him looking at you.” Brea is Ava’s best friend and the only other person who knows about her special gift.

  “You think it was really a moment? I thought it was just my imagination.” Ava watched him disappear around the hallway.

  “Nope, it was definitely a moment. I saw it too.” Brea reached over plucking a feather from Ava’s red hair. “Although this could have something to do with it too,” she lifted a brow, “A little gift from Aunt Avalene I presume.”

  Ava snatched the feather, crumpling it in her hand, “I swear I’m going to kill her.”

  They walked together through the crowded halls out to Ava’s yellow Beetle. Brea got in and promptly stuck her feet up onto the dash, “What does she do to those little white feathers anyway?”

  Ava rolled her eyes. “Different things, but I’d be willing to bet that she put an attraction spell on this one.” She put the car in drive mashing the gas hard and let the feather fall from her fingers into the wind outside the car, “She thinks I need a boyfriend.”

  Brea laughed tilting her head, “Yep, you did look extra attractive today. And you sort of do need a boyfriend.”

  “Shut up Brea,” Av
a said with a grin.

  Brea rolled down her window, “I thought you didn’t want to learn any of the spells your Aunt Avalene uses.”

  “Well, I don’t want to learn them, but living in that house you can’t help but learn some. I’m just trying to figure out when she planted it on me.” Ava thought back to the short interaction she’d with Aunt Avalene this morning.

  “It wouldn’t be hard; I mean it’s just a tiny little feather. You’re so lucky… I wish I was a witch.”

  Ava snapped her eyes to Brea, “No you don’t, and I’m not a witch!”

  “Well, a wizard or whatever you want to call it.”

  “I’m not that either. I’m just plain old Ava Vangeretta.”

  “Well” Brea said, popping a piece of gum in her mouth “you have to call it something. It’s definitely not normal; all the stuff you can do. It’s some kind of gift.”

  “No it’s not. This thing… is a curse. The Vangeretta family curse.”

  They pulled into the long drive that led up to Aunt Avalene’s house—the place Ava had lived since she was five. She knew there was something in her blood, but she didn’t want anything to do with it. She didn’t want to be a freak. That’s the reason her mother sent her away after all. Not that her mother is anyone worth mentioning. She doesn’t even call anymore; the occasional letter was enough to ease any guilty conscience now.

  Ava and Brea walked into the large colonial style house. They put their bags down on the entryway bench and walked into the large front room. Aunt Avalene loved to collect antiques, but there was a good mix of old and new in the house. Three arched-backed chairs faced each other in the center and an old painting of Salem hung over the fireplace. Two modern lamps sat on either side of a large window in front. The inside looked like most colonial style houses, but there were secrets in this house, lots of them. Secrets that could make people think Ava was a freak if anyone ever found out about them. Secrets that, if revealed, could possibly get her killed.

  “Aunt Avalene, are you here?” Ava looked through the living room and peeked into the dining room. The room was empty, the nine-foot long formal dining set sat empty in the middle of the dull yellow room, the afternoon sun glistening on the cherry wood finish. “I guess she’s not here.”

  “Where do you think she is?”

  “No telling,” Ava rolled her eyes. “You know Aunt Avalene, she could be anywhere. Maybe she went to Sherri’s.”

  “Well then,” Brea said with a devious smile, “that gives me time to talk to you about something.”

  “Talk to me about what?” Ava pushed the kitchen door open.

  Brea followed close behind, “Don’t get mad, okay?”

  “Why would I get mad?” She turned around looking at Brea, noticing the smile tugging at her lips. “No, if it’s something to do with magic. I’ve already told you I don’t do that, not purposely anyway.”

  Brea tried to hold it in, but the guilty smile broke free, “Please? It’s only a tiny, itsy bitsy bit of magic.” She held her fingers less than an inch apart squinting one eye, “Like this much.”

  “No,” Ava said turning away and walking towards the fridge.

  “Come on! I’m your bestest friend in the whole wide world! Please...!”

  “No, and quit trying to use peer pressure on me. Weren’t you listening to Mr. Stallings today?” Ava deepened her voice sarcastically, “Peer pressure is wrong. It damages friendships and hurts your friends.” She shook her head, “Seriously, no way.”

  Brea pouted as she grabbed a bag of chips from the counter and ripped them open. “What’s the use in having a best friend who’s a witch if she won’t use her powers?” She stuffed a chip in her mouth.

  “I’m not a witch, do you see a broom? Do I have a pointy hat, am I hideous?” she arched a brow.

  Brea swallowed a bite and let out a breath, “No but…”

  ‘“No but’ nothing, I’m not a witch and the answer is no.”

  “Don’t you even want to know what it is?” Brea smiled, lifting her brown eyes hopefully.

  “Nope, sure don’t.”

  “Fine!” Brea pouted as she got herself a soda from the fridge.

  The kitchen door swung open.

  “What are you two girls talking about, did I hear talk of witches and magic?” Aunt Avalene came around the corner, her red hair tucked neatly under her gardening hat. “No secrets in this house,” she said with a smile, “none between us anyway.” She brushed back a piece of hair and swatted at a small bee that must have followed her into the house.

  “It’s nothing, Brea was just being annoying. Can we go to the mall?”

  “Sure, just be back by dark. It’s a full moon tonight you know.” She gave them one of her trying to be serious looks, “No magic tonight.”

  “I know Aunt Avalene. Speaking of magic, I found the feather.” She raised one brow.

  “I knew you would. Did it work?”

  “Yes, but don’t do that. It’s not what I want. I want things to happen naturally in my life.”

  “Our magic is the most natural thing in the world.” Aunt Avalene tilted her head, an intense look in her velvet blue eyes. “One day you will change your mind and accept what you are.”

  “Yeah sure,” Ava rolled her eyes. “Just no more feathers, okay?”

  “Okay,” Aunt Avalene said with her fingers crossed in front of her face, a big smile inching wider.

  Ava and Brea sang along to their favorite song, as they drove towards the mall. Shouting the words at the top of their lungs and letting the cool breeze come in through both car windows. It is one of those days, the kind that let you know that summer is coming. It is so close you can almost smell the fresh cut grass and taste the sunlight in the air. School is almost over, the long year down to just one more month. There has always been a sort of magic to summer for both girls. Maybe it has something to do with the river Aunt Avalene lives on; the St Mary’s river. It separates Florida and Georgia and has a strong current that leads straight out to the ocean. Ava could stare at that river for hours, watching the ebb and flow of it as it drifts peacefully past the dock.

  They’ve swam in the tea colored water soaking up every free second of summer since they were just little kids. Brea lives right down the river from Aunt Avalene and the girls met on the sandy bank when they were seven. That river bank held both of their imaginations as children and the rivers current still seems to carry their soul’s right along with it. The river banks will fill with people soon and the smells of barbeque will linger all the way up to the house.

  They pulled in and parked in the mall parking lot. It was almost forty minutes away, but so worth the drive. The small town they lived in held a Wal-Mart and a few consignment shops, but that was it. The parking lot was busy, people driving in circles looking for a spot. The afternoon sun baked the pavement and the hum of traffic and conversations melted together.

  “Yuck, what is that?” Brea said side-stepping a gooey clump on the pavement.

  “It’s just a squished frog,” Ava said with a smile.

  “Ex-boyfriend?” Brea teased with a laugh.

  “Ha-ha,” Ava shook her head, “you’re soooo funny.”

  Brea turned, “Seriously though, what are you going to do about Troy?”

  “What is there to do? He’s with Jenna.”

  “So,” Brea rolled her eyes. “Jenna’s evil and you know their relationship is all about status. I mean it’s such a cliché; quarterback and head cheerleader. I could puke.”

  “Please don’t. I’m not going to go stalking him. If he ever asks I’ll be available, but what can I do?”

  “Use magic,” Brea suggested with a devious smile.

  “Shut up, you know you can’t talk about it in public,” Ava said as she walked through the mall doors. “I wouldn’t do that anyway.”

  “I would,” Brea said with a smile.

  “I know you would.” Ava laughed and shook her head.

  The mall was crowded an
d wonderful. The strong smells wafting through it, almost intoxicating. A mixture of the smell of new clothes and food made Ava and Brea walk faster. Their shoes clacked in unison on the glossy tile floor. They stopped long enough to get a giant pretzel then turned towards the escalator.

  On the second floor they walked into one of Brea’s favorite stores called “Up Top.” It has a mixture of actual vintage clothes and new fake vintage. They browsed the racks for over an hour before Brea found the perfect pair of jeans. She held the jeans up, giving them a sad look, “I wish I could have you.” She pretended to wipe a tear and put them back on the rack.

  “How much are they?” Ava pulled them back out. “Oh…, wow, that’s a lot.”

  “Their vintage, real vintage from the seventies, look at the history.” Brea touched the tag on the jeans. Lowering her voice she whispered, “If only the price could drop about fifty percent, I could get them. It’s too bad there isn’t a witch around…” She smiled and clasped her hands under her chin, “I promise I won’t ask for anything else ever.”

  “I seriously doubt that,” Ava said “and, no.” She put them back on the rack. “You know I don’t do that.”

  “But, all you would have to do is wish really hard that they were cheaper. Please with a strawberry lemon swirl from Frezzies on top.”

  “No, I don’t even know if it would work.”

  “Will you just try?” Brea pulled the pants out, holding them up in front of her. “Just picture how cute I would be in these.”

  Ava looked at the jeans. They looked pretty hideous to her, but she knew how much Brea loved vintage clothes. Before she even realized she had decided to do it, the price changed and “50% off” appeared across the tag.

  “Thank you Ava! Thank you so much!” Brea gave her a little hug.

  “I, umm” Ava started to say that she hadn’t really meant to change the price, but the smile on Brea’s face stopped her.

  Ava followed Brea up to the register, her stomach twisting in knots. That was the crazy thing about the magic. Just wishing too hard could make her use it. The problem seemed to be getting worse lately. It was like the magic was bubbling and building inside her just looking for a way to get out. She didn’t want to use it and mostly never did, but accidents do happen... She gave Brea an eye roll as the lady took the jeans to ring them up.