by Patti Larsen
When I finished, I pulled away and looked into his eyes. I never saw him so steady or so calm and, on impulse, I kissed his forehead.
“Thank you,” I whispered, “for being here to protect me.”
He sighed softly and gave me one more tongue swipe before rubbing his face on mine.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered back.
I rolled over, staring up at the ceiling before glancing at the clock.
And groaned. I was going to be late for school.
I left Sassy grooming my tears out of his fur and ran to the shower. I was toweling off before I caught my reflection in the mirror. Wow. I looked like crap. Bloodshot eyes, bright pink spots on my cheeks and mottled patches on my neck and chest. Some girls were able to cry and make it pretty. Not me. Ugly personified.
I sighed and leaned against the bathroom counter, clutching my robe around me. I didn’t have to go to school. I knew Mom would be fine if I stayed home. In fact, she would probably ask me to. But after the night I had, I needed normal. Nice, comfortable, boring normal.
Sassy curled up and either went back to sleep or was faking it when I entered my room to change. I let him sleep. We had an odd relationship and it felt like we crossed some sort of line between our usual fun snarkiness into something more grown up.
I wasn’t sure I was comfortable with it.
By the time I dragged myself downstairs and into the kitchen, I second-guessed my decision to go to school. Not only did I look like warmed over nasty, I felt like a nice pile of the same stuff. Being inside the head of the creature did a number on me.
My mother’s sympathetic hug in a patch of sunlight in our ultra-modern kitchen clinched the deal. No way was I spending the whole day with her being all lovey and caring, asking me every two seconds if I was okay. Nope. School it was.
Still, I figured I needed to tell her about the dream.
She started nodding before I finished. “Yes, dear,” she said, “I know.”
“You do?” What, was she monitoring me in my sleep now? My back went up, my usual reaction. How dare she?
“Yes, Syd,” she said. “We all had the same dream.”
Oh. My righteous anger deflated and my demon snorted at me. Okay, fair enough. I overreacted. But, really, who would blame me?
“Why?” Seemed logical to ask.
“The dream connection has something to do with you and Quaid,” Mom said, and for a moment she looked as tired as I felt. But her coven leader mask fell firmly back in place before I could comment. “Which we can use to our advantage.”
I shuddered. No way was I connecting with that thing again. She must have known what I was thinking because she smiled.
“You’re going to school?” She turned away to tend to the pot of oatmeal bubbling on the stove. Gah. I hated oatmeal. But she loved to feed me the stuff. Healthy, whatever. It tasted like dirt.
“Just need to get out for awhile.” I took the bowl she offered and she didn’t comment. That was the thing with my mother. If you gave her a little, she gave you a little. I wondered what giving her a lot would get me but shoved the curiosity aside. I was trying, but there was no way she could suck me in completely.
“Meira’s already gone,” she said. She turned holding a tray with another bowl, a glass of milk and a small dish of sugar. A daisy nodded sweetly in a thin vase alongside a pristine white napkin.
I knew what that meant. She was going to feed Gram. For a heartbeat I almost asked her to stay and eat with me. There was something else I needed to tell her, something from the day before, but I couldn’t remember what. So I shrugged and slouched into a kitchen chair to eat my dirt. Sugar improved it. A little.
My walk to school did little to clear my head. I spotted Quaid’s bike in the parking lot of the school and wondered why he bothered to show up. I shrugged it off. Maybe he needed some normal too.
Everything went exactly as I expected. Boring and ordinary. And as I walked to my locker amid the disorganized normalness of it all I shuddered. How could they be so blind? Didn’t they get it? They were in danger, all of them. All of us. There was so much they didn’t see or hear or understand. They were surrounded by magic and an evil I wasn’t sure we could defeat and there they were, the students and teachers of Wilding Springs, going about their morning business like everything was hunky.
I wanted to scream. To cast a spell, show them the truth. I couldn’t stand it one more second.
I didn’t realize I stopped until a strong hand hooked my upper arm and hauled me forward, making me move again. Something about such forced motion and the surge of familiar power snapped me out of my desperation. That something was my anger at Quaid Moromond.
He dumped me at my locker, hand still holding me firmly. He shook me, just a little bit, dark eyes unfairly delicious.
“I know,” he said. “I get it. But don’t.”
He let me go and kept walking. I rubbed my arm as I watched him go and wished I had the energy to chase him down and –kiss— hit him.
Whoa. Where did that come from? I shuddered from my demon’s need and slammed her behind a fortress wall. No way was I going anywhere near that kind of crazy talk. No way.
Besides, I remembered all of a sudden, didn’t I have a boyfriend? My fingers lifted instinctively to the chain around my neck and the diamond studded heart. As soon as I did, calm slid over me, quieting even my demon. Right. Normal and ordinary. Boyfriends and prom talk and best friends forever.
That was more like it.
Naturally, I was late for class.
I took Ms. Fiat’s declaration I was absent with a roll of my eyes and a mumbled, “Sorry, ma’am,” and slid into my seat. Alison glared dramatically at me, making a face almost driving me back into giggles, but I turned away before her impression of our sour teacher could make me do something Ms. Fiat could really punish me for.
About half way through first period I realized school wasn’t cutting it. Not for what I needed. Ms. Fiat’s droning voice put me in exactly the right headspace to focus on the night before and zone out into my own private hell. Alison had to jerk me out of my stun and drag me to my next class. I ignored the worried look she gave me, not even hearing if she spoke and collapsed into yet another chair at yet another desk for yet another hour of total and complete absorption in my troubles.
By the time I made it to our table at lunch I felt like a zombie. I mumbled greetings to everyone and dropped myself onto the bench, making everyone cry out as our wobbly spot sent stuff flying at the assault of my weight.
“Sorry, sorry!” I rescued an apple and a small canister of yogurt for Simon while Blood scraped ketchup from the front of his death metal t-shirt.
“No worries,” he said in his usual chill way but he frowned and I realized I finally found a way to piss him off. No one messed with Blood’s favorite t-shirt. Not even me.
“You okay, Syd?” Simon’s glasses were crooked. Again. I wanted to straighten them for him but it just seemed like too much effort.
“Yeah,” I said. “Just tired.”
“Wow,” Alison said, “those family parties of yours must be something else.”
Right. My birthday.
“Yeah,” I said. “You wouldn’t believe it.”
“Did you like your present?” Beth’s perfect bob, well, bobbed as she tipped her head to the side and smiled at me so brightly I wanted sunglasses. I didn’t know if I could handle her perkiness just then.
Damn. Presents. “Sorry,” I said around a mouthful of sandwich I forced into my mouth, “I forgot to open them.”
She looked so disappointed I tried not to sigh.
“It’s okay,” I said, pulling my backpack around. “I have them right here. This way you can see me do it.”
That made her feel better. How nice for her. Wondering at my bitter mood, I did my best to show my gratitude for the silk scarf Beth gave me, the cheap and gaudy earrings Simon thought I’d like, the CD of death metal Blood gave me and the Goth girl kit co
nsisting of black eyeliner, nail polish and lipstick that came from Pain.
She winked at me and shot me with her index finger. I winked and shot back.
As if.
Finally, I dug out Alison’s gift. She grinned and blushed all at the same time. “Hope you like it”
I unwrapped it and stared. It was a framed photo of the two of us, dressed like sparkly witches and giggling together. I remembered the night, last Halloween, when we became friends.
“Where did you get this?” I looked up at her, feeling better at last.
“Donna Johansen,” she rolled her eyes. “Remember? She took our picture. Squealed how cute we were?”
I did remember if vaguely. We went trick or treating after… after Suzanne and her posse stripped Alison of her cheer uniform and I made them all violently ill.
That part I wasn’t so proud of. But our smiling faces brought me back to myself and I beamed at her.
“Thanks,” I said. “This is perfect.”
She beamed right back. “You’re welcome.”
Thanks went all around. Fortunately we were at an awkward table so hugs weren’t really possible but I figured I’d get assaulted by Beth or Simon before I could get away. I slid the gifts back into my backpack while Alison winked at me.
“We haven’t seen your other gift,” she said.
I frowned at her. “Sorry?”
She pointed at my throat. “Brad’s.”
I blushed instantly. The necklace. I pulled it out for them all to see and tried not to grin at their oohs and ahhs of appreciation.
“Guess this means it’s official?” Alison left it hanging.
“Yeah,” I said, ducking my head. “He asked me.”
Even Pain giggled with Beth and Alison while Simon and Blood just rolled their eyes.
“Where is he?” I looked around the cafeteria, suddenly realizing I wasn’t showing much interest in my new boyfriend. But Alison fell quiet, the silence enough to refocus my attention on her.
“He’s gone,” she said. “Went to the hospital.”
At first my heart flipped. Was he hurt? Then I remembered.
“Suzanne,” I whispered.
Alison shrugged, her blonde hair rippling as she did. “They were friends once.”
I nodded. Fair enough.
The warning bell rang and we all groaned. I was about to get up and take my hugging medicine when Alison caught my eye and gestured for me to wait. I let the others go, Beth and Simon both settling for a sitting down squeeze before trotting off to class. I waited until Blood waved his casual goodbye before turning back to my friend.
“What’s up?”
Alison’s eyes dropped from mine and she toyed with her plastic spoon as she spoke.
“I want to go too,” she said.
“Where?” I was seriously dumbed out.
“The hospital.” Her eyes finally lifted and met mine. “To see Suzanne.”
That floored me. “What?” Was she nuts? After everything she put Alison through?
“Like I said,” she whispered, “we were friends once.”
I sighed and nodded. “Gotcha. So go. It’s okay.”
She shook her head quickly, face pinched with emotion. “I don’t want to go alone.”
“Why didn’t you go with Brad?”
She waited a moment then forced a smile. “Because, I wanted to go with you.”
Great.
“Alison…” I was not comfortable with it at all.
“I know,” she said. “It’s just… no one will go see her, Syd. All the pops…” she tossed her hair back, shoulders squaring like she was taking on a burden. “It’s like she doesn’t exist for them anymore. It’s not fair.”
I’d taught her too well. A sense of fair play could be a killer.
“Okay,” I said. “I’ll go with you.”
She squealed and squeezed my arm.
“On one condition,” I finished.
“Anything.” She was so excited I went easy on her.
“There is no way I’m letting her sit with us at lunch.”
Alison crossed her finger over her heart and winked.
***
Chapter Fourteen
Alison drove me home after school so we could tell Mom where we were going. I wasn’t sure how my mother would react to my friend’s need to visit Suzanne but was surprised when she smiled.
“That’s a lovely idea,” Mom said. “I’m sure she could use the company.”
I wanted to ask my mother if she had any news about the creature, but she was already occupied. By Alison’s new car.
A Mustang convertible, no less. Mom’s favorite. Alison was given a shiny red car for her birthday and I had a visit from a creature that wanted to kill everyone.
Sounds fair.
I tapped my foot as they compared vehicles for what seemed like hours but really only amounted to about ten minutes. I finally sighed heavily to get their attention as Mom explored the dash from the driver’s seat.
“We should get going,” I said.
Mom gave me a soft kiss on the cheek on the way by and I knew she was laughing at me. I just knew it.
“I’ve said it before,” Alison told me as she pulled out of my driveway and peeled off, “but you have the coolest mom ever.”
No comment.
I quickly claimed Alison’s cell phone and locked it away in the glove compartment. Not like she had many people to text these days but I survived a near-death experience with her the week before involving her pink addiction and refused to drive with her anymore if she didn’t give it up.
Somehow, I won that battle. The radio on the other hand, I backed away from for fear of losing a hand.
I was surprised when she turned it off and drove in silence for a few minutes. She was making me uncomfortable, so much so I squirmed in the soft leather seat and wished I could trust her with the phone back just to break the quiet.
She finally did. “Thanks for this,” she said, quavering and low. And cleared her throat. When she spoke again, her voice sounded more normal. “I really appreciate it.”
“I know,” I said.
“As much as you hate her, I have better memories.” She shot me a genuine smile. “We were in Girl Scouts together. I talked her through her first broken heart. Was her friend when she had braces.” Alison sighed. “Then the bitch took over and… well. You know the rest.”
I wasn’t sure to which bitch she referred, but since Alison was reformed and Suzanne was current I figured I’d leave it at both.
The drive was pretty short and flew by after that as Alison’s fingers found the dial and her favorite pop band belted the latest hit. Don’t get me wrong, I like pop music. Just not at a decibel level high enough to shake apart a house. Guess I’m a loser, but I like my hearing.
Lucky for me we pulled into the parking lot only a few minutes later. The sudden silence when she shut off the key was almost worse than the songs themselves. I shook the ringing from my ears, working my jaw against the numbness and followed Alison through the front doors.
Wilding Springs General was like any other small hospital I’d ever seen. Not that I’d seen many, mind you. Most injuries to the family stayed in the family. But I’d had an occasion or two to visit, usually on school field trips or forced to when injured playing soccer before Mom could come get me. I was slightly disappointed when I realized I’d forgotten all about pre-season. And, worse, Coach Matters didn’t call to remind me. Not that I blamed him. The last game I’d played was a disaster, thanks to the influence of the family and one Jared Runnel, real name Galleytrot, a black dog of the Wild Hunt hired by the Moromonds to bring down my mother.
Soccer was out for me this year. And maybe every year. Sucked.
I had more important things to think about, like keeping up with Alison. She was already at the front desk, asking the pretty girl in the pink and white striped apron for Suzanne’s room number.
Stripes looked it up and smiled the answer p
ast glasses and braces.
“321. Ward Three.”
Alison was on the move before the girl could hand her the paper she wrote it on. I took it with an apologetic smile and hurried after my friend.
The place stank of disinfectant and sick people. I hated hospitals. There were spirits hanging behind, and old malignant emotions left over as well as pools of grief and loneliness. I shuddered as I walked through one such hovering mass, my flesh crawling from the touch of emotional residue. Alison barreled ahead without me and I had to struggle to keep up.
I finally caught her at the entrance to the ward, but not because I was faster. She stood at a dead halt, her face pale. And when I reached for her hand I felt her trembling.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
I flinched from a floating patch of pain and squeezed her fingers.
“Yes,” I said. “You can. Let’s go.”
She smiled at me, lashes wet with tears, and allowed me to lead her into the ward.
Inside was worse for me. Not only was there phantom emotion, it was fed by the real thing. As quiet as the place was, it screamed inside my head. To witches, hospitals are horribly unnatural. Taking care of injuries, illness and even death is our responsibility to each other, not that of strangers in cold and lifeless rooms. Every hospital I’d been in felt the same.
Like limbo.
We were stopped by an older nurse in blue scrubs. “What room?”
“321,” Alison said.
Her eyes tightened and I could feel the sympathy rolling from her. “Down the hall on the left,” she said and went back to her chart.
I for one didn’t need her direction. Now that I was closer, I could feel Suzanne. She had a distinctive touch to her, the flavor of the creature, and it drew me to her. I let it.
I kept my eyes forward, recoiling slightly from the waves of sickness pouring out at me from the other rooms. I was the one almost running by the time we reached Suzanne’s. I paused one moment beside the heavy, green door. I needed a second to gather myself. Alison squeezed my fingers as if she understood, but for the wrong reason.