Paranormal Magic (Shades of Prey Book 1)

by Margo Bond Collins

  By the time one of the teachers arrived to break it up, both guys were breathing hard, their faces and fists bloodied. They were hustled off by several adults, presumably to whatever punishment Fairy High meted out to boys who fought at school. Kids began drifting away in groups of two and three.

  No one said anything to me, but just about everyone cast furtive—or in some cases, not-so-furtive—glances in my direction.

  I went to English class in a daze.

  Ally didn’t even wait until I’d taken my seat. “I saw you and Josh at the movies last night,” she said ever so casually.

  “Yeah?” I responded, without any real interest. I knew what she had seen.

  “You two left awfully early.”

  “We didn’t like the movie,” I answered shortly.

  “Really?” The smirk on Ally’s face looked a lot like the one I’d grown used to seeing on Kayla.

  I didn’t answer. I just opened my book to the next scene of Julius Caesar and waited for the teacher to finish calling roll.

  Halfway through class, a student aide came in and passed a note to Mrs. Norman. Her lips pursed as she read it. “Laney,” she said, “you’re wanted in the counselor’s office.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said. I gathered up my books to take with me, in case this turned out to be a longer session than I hoped. Josh and Mason and I had discussed this moment. I had known it was coming. Bartlef was going to try to discover whether Josh and Mason were telling the truth about me. I hadn’t realized the guys were going to stage a fight in order to get the information to Bartlef, but it made sense in retrospect.

  I took a deep breath and made my way down to the lead demon’s office. I had to lean against the wall outside the door and wait for my gut to stop churning before I could bring myself to walk in.

  I left the door open behind me.

  “You wanted to see me?” I asked tentatively.

  “Yes,” Bartlef said in his too-high, too-rough voice. “Please, have a seat.” He stared at me intently as if trying to read my mind.

  “So,” he said, steepling his long, thin white fingers underneath his chin. “I understand you were involved in a disturbance this morning.”

  “No, sir,” I said honestly. “I wasn’t involved in it.”

  His eyes narrowed at me and he stared down his long, pointed nose. “Do you deny that it related to you?”

  “No, sir,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean I was involved in it.”

  “I see,” he said, leaning forward so that his voice blew his fetid breath directly into my face. “So you fancy yourself a bit of a rhetorician,” he said with a sneer.

  “I don’t know what you mean.” I met his eyes directly.

  “I mean, you don’t tell the whole truth, do you?”

  I didn’t bother to answer that one. I just stared at him impassively and waited for his next comment.

  He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers against his thin lips. “So what exactly happened between Mason Collier and Josh Bevington this morning?” he finally asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “I was standing at my locker talking to Mason, and Josh came up and hit him.” There. That was honest enough.

  “With no provocation whatsoever?” Bartlef’s voice was disbelieving.

  “No. Not at that moment.”

  “But at another moment?”

  I looked away, staring out the window behind Bartlef’s back. He had a view of a brick wall. Still, it was better than looking at Bartlef’s face.

  “I’ve been out on dates with both of them,” I said. “I suppose that might have set them off.”

  “Indeed.” His voice was quiet, his eyes narrowed. He held his hands together as if in prayer under his lips.

  I shrugged. “But that doesn’t make it any of my business,” I said. “It’s not my fault if they think fighting it out is going to have any effect on my decisions.”

  In a move like a striking snake, Bartlef flipped his hands out so that they faced me and muttered a word that sounded like “Rigan.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked.

  Bartlef leaned forward again, this time placing his hands on his desk and moving as close to me as possible. “Tell me of your relationships with Josh and Mason.” His foul breath brushed across my face and I sat perfectly still, focusing on not inhaling too deeply.

  When I felt it was safe to breathe again, I opened my mouth to give my rehearsed response, but my throat suddenly constricted. I gasped for air and tried again. This time I felt a chill in the air around me, a thick coldness that I could almost see.

  I realized that Bartlef must be using some sort of Power on me, like a glamour, but used to force me to tell the truth.

  Yep. That conversation about all the ins and outs of the Power was going to be coming sooner than Josh might have thought.

  Finally, I forced words out. “I don’t know,” I said. “I like them both.” I felt an urge to tell Bartlef all of it—the plan, the tricks, everything. I fought it off. Just a glamour, I told myself silently. Just a mind game. “But I think they might be using me,” I finally said. My voice strained as if the admission had been pulled out of me. “For sex or something,” I added, and then bit down on my tongue to keep from saying anything further.

  Bartlef nodded and leaned back again, satisfaction evident in the slight curving of his lips.

  He stood up and walked around me. He closed the office door and moved back to his desk, trailing his fingertips along my shoulder and up across the nape of my neck as he walked past.

  “And that would be a bad thing?” he asked.

  “Would what be bad?” I replied, distracted by my sudden desire to scrub the spot he had just touched. Scrub it with soap and boiling hot water. And maybe a steel brush.

  “Sex with Josh or Mason. Or both.” He shrugged.

  I couldn’t think of anything to say to that. And what could I possibly have said, anyway? The shock must have been clear on my face because Bartlef flicked his hand out again and said, “Rishaya. Ganuna.”

  Would it be so bad to have sex with Josh or Mason? I wondered. They were both really hot. I remembered their kisses, and felt myself smile a little. I was almost seventeen. Surely that was old enough to . . .

  Dammit! Another glamour! I closed my eyes and fought to keep my expression serene as I worked to replace the all-too-clear images in my mind with less pleasant ones. Like dead puppies.

  I repressed a shudder as the glamour slithered off of me.

  “Hm,” I said, working to keep my voice a little dreamy, “I’ll have to think about that.”

  “Well,” Bartlef said mildly, “As school counselor, it’s my job to help students who are in trouble.” Yeah, right. “Please feel free to stop by any time, Laney.”

  His smile was horrible.

  “Um. Okay,” I said. I stood up, gathering my bookbag. “So, if we’re done here, I need to get back to class.”

  Bartlef nodded. “Of course,” he said, standing to usher me back out into the hallway. “Remember, Laney, anytime at all,” he said as I scurried away. I bounded up the stairs as fast as I could, and made it to the bathroom just in time to land on my knees in front of the toilet in one of the stalls and vomit up the coffee I’d had in lieu of breakfast.

  I rinsed my mouth out at the sink, staring at my pale reflection. I bent down to splash water on my face, and when I rose back up, Hazel Biet was standing behind me. In the mirror, I could see her wings folded in along her back; they were a mottled gray and black. But when I turned to face her, all I saw was a gangly, horse-faced woman with eyes that bugged out a bit too far. No wings apparent.

  I reached past her and pulled a paper towel out of the dispenser. “Here to discuss my love life?” I asked mildly. “Because it’s none of your business.”

  I didn’t think her buggy eyes could possibly get any wider or protrude any further, but they did. Her nostrils flared, too, increasing the equine resemblance.

  “You’re
not the Yatah, you know,” she said conversationally. She stepped up to the sink next to me and leaned in close to the mirror.

  “Really?” I asked, trying to make my tone match hers.

  “Really.” She flipped a lock of hair off her forehead and patted it down.

  “Then why won’t you leave me alone?” I demanded.

  “You belong here,” she said.

  I stepped away from her. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because,” she said, meeting my eyes in the mirror, “You’re one of us.”

  “One of you what?” I asked suspiciously, despite the warning voice in my head screaming at me to get away from her as fast as I could.

  She shook her hair back along her shoulders and walked toward the exit. As she passed me, she reached over and tucked my own hair behind my ear.

  “One of the People,” she said. “A fairy. A demon.”

  Chapter 17

  I opened my mouth to say something, to call her back. Closed it. Opened it again. Shook my head.

  The bell for the end of class rang and I heard students pouring into the hall. The bathroom filled up with chattering girls.

  I leaned against the wall and stared at nothing.

  She had to be wrong.

  Right?

  The bathroom emptied back out. The late bell rang.

  I stared at my reflection in the mirror.

  Turned. Stared over my shoulder at my back. Squinted.

  No wings.

  Hazel Biet was a crazy woman, I finally decided.

  But I couldn’t quit thinking about her comment as I made my slow way to the gym.

  Coach Laramie was just taking roll as my classmates came out of the dressing rooms.

  “You’re late, Harris,” she said gruffly.

  “I’m sorry,” I said honestly. “I was just in the bathroom. I got sick.”

  Her assessing look turned to one of concern as she took in my pallor and the sheen of sweat that coated my face. “Do you need to go home?” she asked.

  “No, ma’am. I don’t think so. But I think I’ll sit out today, if it’s okay with you.”

  “That’s fine,” she agreed. “You can either sit on the bleachers in the gym or go to the nurse’s office. Your call.”

  “I feel okay now,” I said. “But I’ll go to the nurse’s if it gets bad again.”

  The rest of the class went outside to the track, leaving me alone in the echoing gymnasium. I climbed halfway up the indoor bleachers and stretched out on my back, feeling the coolness of the riser seep through my shirt along my back—my very wingless back.

  I sat up quickly, reminded of the chill that had swept through me when Hazel Biet had touched my stomach. What had that touch told her about me? Why would she think I was one of them? A fairy. A demon. One of the People. Was it something she’d picked up when she’d tried to freeze me out? And what was she going to do about it? Why tell me? The questions spun around in my mind, making me feel dizzy and sick again.

  I needed to talk to Josh and Mason.

  I gathered up my backpack and staggered out of the gym.

  They were probably in class, I thought hazily. A drop of sweat rolled down my forehead and into my eye. I put my hand to my cheek; it was hot. The hallway stretched out in front of me.

  Josh, I thought. Josh and Mason. I took my hand away from my cheek—and froze with it stretched out in front of me. It shimmered with a silvery sheen. I held out the other arm to compare them.

  They were definitely glowing.

  My arms looked just like they had when Josh and I had kissed. I looked around frantically, then ducked into the nearest bathroom. One glance in the mirror convinced me that I couldn’t go wandering around the school like this. Once I’d locked myself in a stall, I pulled out my new cell phone and jabbed at the buttons. I was glad I’d taken the time to program in Josh and Mason’s numbers. I texted both of them.

  911. Flr 1 grls bthrm. Help!!!!! LH

  Then I waited.

  It only took them a few minutes. Mason got there first.

  “Laney?” he whispered.

  “Over here.” I unlocked the stall and pushed the door open but waited for him to come to me.

  “What’s the prob—” He froze in mid-sentence, his mouth hanging open as he stared at me. His lip was swollen and split from the fight he’d staged with Josh earlier.

  “I got here as fast as I could,” Josh said from behind him. “What’s up?”

  Mason stepped out of the way so Josh could see me.

  Josh cursed once, then bit his lip as he concentrated. His right eye was bruised. “Okay,” he said. “We’ve got to get her out of here without anyone seeing her.” He looked at Mason. “You wait here. Block the door. Don’t let anyone come in until I get back.”

  Mason nodded shortly. Josh sprinted out of the bathroom. As soon as he was gone, Mason’s brow furrowed and he muttered a few incomprehensible words. A faint shimmering filled the doorway.

  “That ought to keep everyone out for a while,” he said.

  “Is it a shield of some sort?”

  He laughed. “Nothing that solid. It’s just a suggestion. Makes everyone who looks at it want to go somewhere else.”

  “Does it work on demons, too?”

  He frowned at the glimmer in the doorway. “It should hold until Josh gets back,” he said, but he didn’t sound as certain of that as I would have liked.

  “Why can’t you just take me into the ethereal?” I asked.

  “The norms wouldn’t see you that way, but all the other People could,” Mason said.

  “Can y’all see each other in the ethereal all the time?” I asked.

  “If we concentrate.” His tone was distracted. “Come on, Josh,” he muttered.

  “What if you don’t concentrate?” I persisted.

  He shook his head, still not entirely paying attention to my questions. “Then we just see it sometimes.”

  Just sometimes, I thought. Like when you catch a glimpse of wings that you shouldn’t be able to see.

  Neither of us said anything else until Josh came back in. He wrapped an oversized hoodie around me, pulling it up over my hair. “I went to the office, and told the secretary that Laney was sick and I was taking her home,” he said.

  “They give you any trouble?” Mason asked.

  “Nah. Apparently Coach Laramie had been in asking if anyone had seen Laney, so I think they were just glad to know where she was.”

  I zipped up the hoodie and let the sleeves dangle down to my fingertips.

  “Okay, Mase,” Josh said. “You go back to class. If anyone saw us all together, it would blow our chances of keeping our story straight. Come to my house after school, but don’t let anyone see you.”

  Mason hesitated for a moment. “You going to be okay?” he asked me.

  My giggle sounded a little hysterical. “I don’t know,” I said. “I hope so.”

  He and Josh exchanged worried glances. “After school, man,” Josh said.

  Mason nodded and left.

  Josh wrapped one arm around my shoulders. “Ready?” he asked.

  “I guess so,” I said.

  “Good. Keep your face down,” he instructed. We moved swiftly down the hall and out the door, his arm steadying me, as he swept me into the parking lot and opened his car door for me.

  I slumped into the passenger seat as Josh moved around to the driver’s side and got in.

  “Don’t look up,” he instructed. “I don’t want anyone to see you.”

  “Don’t worry,” I muttered. “I’m too busy concentrating on not throwing up.” The car jostled over a speed bump and I groaned.

  “Here,” he said. He pointed the air-conditioner vent so that it blew fresh air into my face. “Breathe. You’re going to be just fine.”

  By the time we got out to the ranch, my stomach had settled a little. But it clenched up again as soon as we drove over the cattle guard.

  “We can’t let my mom see me like this
,” I said. “I don’t know what I’d say to her.”

  “That’s why we’re going to my house,” Josh said.

  “But what if the school calls?”

  “Dad can take care of it,” he said. “I called him after I went to the office earlier. He’s expecting us.”

  I hunkered down in the seat and closed my eyes as we drove past the main house.

  “We’re here,” Josh announced a moment later. I opened my eyes to see Mr. Bevington holding the front door open for us.

  “Come on,” he said, scanning the horizon and motioning at us to hurry up.

  Once in the living room, I pulled the hood down. Mr. Bevington shut the door and was turning toward us when he caught sight of my face.

  “Oh,” was all he managed.

  “I know,” Josh said.

  “I thought we’d agreed no more kissing at school,” Mr. Bevington said.

  So Josh had told his dad. If ever there was a time for the floor to open up and swallow me, this was it. But of course that sort of thing never happens at a convenient time, so I got to stand there feeling more and more self-conscious and miserable.

  “We didn’t,” Josh protested.

  “Then what do you think caused this?” Mr. Bevington asked.

  “No idea,” Josh said.

  I pulled the hoodie all the way off and stared glumly at my glowing arms. Josh and his father stared as well, seemingly spellbound by my shininess.

  “I think I might have an idea,” I finally said.

  Mr. Bevington jerked his eyes back up to my face. “What?” he asked.

  I sank down onto the couch and leaned forward so that my elbows rested on my knees. I stared at my hands some more.

  “Miss Biet thinks I’m one of y’all.”

  They both stared at me blankly.

  “You know,” I said. “One of you. Not a human. A demon. Fairy. Whatever.” I waited. “Well? Is anyone going to say anything?”

  The Bevingtons turned to face each other, eyes wide.

  “Do you think—” they began at the same time. Then they stopped and stared at each other again. Their enormous eyes turned toward me at the same time. I dropped my head into my hands.

  “You think she’s right, don’t you?” I said. I groaned in misery.