Of Flame and Light: A Weird Girls Novel

by Cecy Robson

  Vieve grins up at him, as if only he matters.

  It takes all I have not to punch her in her perfect teeth.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Someone is pounding on my bedroom door.

  At least, that’s what I think is happening. My face is buried in my pillow and my limbs are spread lifelessly around me, except for my zombie arm. It’s buzzing because I suppose it’s bored, pissed it’s being restrained, or in need of attention.

  I ignore the buzz and the pounding, immediately returning to sleep.

  More pounding, hours later. Or least, it feels like hours.

  “Taran?”

  “Yeah?” I mumble.

  “It’s Celia.”

  “Who?”

  “Celia,” she insists.

  “Who?”

  “Your sister,” she pauses. “The one with the fangs and claws.”

  “Oh.” I roll over, certain it’s to my death. That’s what if feels like. I don’t ever remember being so tired on so many levels. “Come in,” I say. At least I think I do.

  “She said come in,” Celia says.

  “Are you sure?” Shayna asks. “It sounded like she said, ‘fuck off’.”

  “No, she said that at around ten,” Emme responds, lightly.

  I’m pretty cranky on minimal sleep. That doesn’t stop me from feeling bad about what I said, even though I’m not entirely shocked I said it. My exhaustion, however, overtakes my guilt.

  My lids fall closed again. I hear my sisters walk in, followed by some shuffling sounds. “No, honey. Not here,” Emme says. “The bathroom, sweetie. You have to take it into the bathroom.”

  “Ergh?”

  “Alice, no, dude. In the bathroom,” Shayna urges. “You have to eat that in the bathtub. Yes, that’s it. Good job.”

  The door to my bathroom shuts. “See. She’s getting better,” Shayna insists.

  A sickening crunch has my eyes opening. I groan. “What is she eating?” I ask in time to see Celia growing pale.

  “Woodchuck,” Emme says, glancing at Celia when she covers her ears. “Bren was nice enough to bring it over after lunch.”

  “Lunch?” I ask, I try to shove myself into a sitting position, yet don’t quite manage. I remember getting up to use the bathroom earlier, but not much more than that. My body slumps, surrendering to my fatigue. One by one, my sisters position themselves along my bed.

  “What time is it?” I mutter.

  “Almost two,” Shayna answers. She hooks her thumb in the direction of the bathroom. “Ordinarily the wolves take Alice to eat in the woods, but she hasn’t eaten in days and the poor thing has been falling apart. Just this morning she lost another foot in the kitchen and we found her kneecap in the laundry room.”

  “Why won’t she eat?” I ask, doing my best to sit up.

  “She refuses to eat without you here,” Emme says. “She needs you. You’re her person.”

  Poor Alice. My sisters have kept her company, but based on the ravished sounds of the next few chews, it hasn’t been enough. She’s famished, having clearly starved herself.

  “What happened this week?” Celia asks. “You haven’t been home until after midnight and leave before any of us are awake.”

  “It’s been a rough first week,” I add. Without meaning to, my focus falls to where her tight black tank-top hugs her tiny belly. There’s been no change to her pregnancy, and no growth. In fact, she’s still wearing her skinny jeans. I don’t want to complain, despite what I went through. It seems petty compared to the stress she and Aric must be enduring.

  “That’s what we figured,” she says. She didn’t notice where my attention fell, ramming her eyes shut when we hear more munching.

  All is quiet in the house. Too quiet. “Where are the wolves?” I ask. Aric and Celia have been practically inseparable. As pureblood and Leader to his kind, he has multiple duties and responsibilities. But since Celia’s pregnancy, he organizes and manages the Pack from home, refusing to leave her. The rare times he’s needed in person, Celia accompanies him to the Den. It’s odd not to see him with her.

  Celia’s face gathers that edge it does when something wicked this way cometh. “The witches charged with finding Savana have been missing for the last few days. Aric and Koda put a search party together, but are organizing and strategizing from the Den due to the multiple teams involved and because of the large area their weres are covering.” She pauses. “Bren’s leading the hunt. They arrived in the Appalachian Mountains late Thursday morning.”

  “Why Bren?” I ask. As a former lone, his pack mates don’t hold him in the same regard as they do the rest, not that Bren gives a shit what they think.

  “He has the best nose in the Pack,” Emme adds quietly. The way she dips her chin and averts her gaze tell me she’s worried. I can’t blame her, seeing how the last set of witches were supposed to be top notch on the supernatural ladder.

  “Genevieve didn’t want the Pack involved,” Celia adds. “But Aric isn’t giving her a choice since her witches have failed to phone in.”

  “I see,” I reply. This isn’t a good sign. If they’re missing, and there’s been no sign of them, chances are they’ll need a good nose to find what’s left of them. I huff. That is, once Savana finishes sacrificing them to her deity.

  “So what happened this week, T?” Shayna asks. “Any luck with getting your arm to behave?”

  “Not really,” I admit, not wanting to say too much.

  I fold my hands over my lap. Somehow I managed a shower before I crawled into bed and put on my favorite pajamas, a silky burgundy set I knew I’d sleep comfy in. It’s Saturday, my first day off in what seems like too long.

  “Taran . . .” Emme begins. “What happened to your hair?”

  My hands pass over some of the dwindling chunks. A piece breaks off and I set it aside. If my hair wasn’t as long as it is, I’d be left with random sections along my shoulders. I blink up at the light blue and white tiers that make up my ceiling, not wanting to discuss my experience, but knowing I have to. “I electrocuted myself.”

  “Um. How?” Celia asks.

  “I pissed off the water I was supposed to be using to nourish the snapdragons.” I shrug. “It spilled and turned into some kind of watery rattlesnake. There were anacondas, cobras, and boa constrictors, too, slithering out of everyone’s buckets. But for some reason the rattlesnakes came after me.”

  “You pissed off water?” Celia asks.

  I’ll admit, that’s a new one even for me. “Yup. The witches were attacked and they bit me—”

  “The witches bit you?” Shayna asks, her ponytail whipping to the side when she gapes at Celia.

  “No,” I begin.

  “She means the snakes, I think,” Emme offers, her fair-freckled skin blushing on my behalf.

  “That too, but also the snapdragons,” I admit.

  “The snapdragons bit you?” Celia asks, her husky voice reflecting their collective shock. “As in those pretty flowery plants?”

  “Oh, yes,” I say, nodding. “Because in the witch world, plants have perpetual PMS, and teeth, and will come after your ass if you don’t water them correctly.”

  “Dude!” Shayna says, hardly believing it.

  And she’s clearly not alone. “I’m sorry. I think I misunderstood something,” Celia says, holding out her hand. “You’re telling me you were gnawed on by an army of angry flowers after the water from your buckets turned into snakes and attacked you and your cohorts?”

  “Yeah, that about sums it up. The best part was when nature, freaking nature, turned against me,” I add.

  Emme, who had been covering her mouth in stupefied horror slowly lowers her hand, revealing her bright pink face. “What-what,” she takes a breath. “What happens when nature turns against you?”

  Her tone implies that she’s afraid to ask, but I’m no longer afraid to tell. Funny thing about humiliation, after a few days, it’s like you have to talk about it and lay it all out there. �
�Vines and ivy wrap themselves around you and drag you screaming back into the woods.” I shake my head, remembering Wilma. “Unless you’re an instructor, in which case, you’re seen as more of a threat and more royally screwed. Tree branches latch onto your ankles and toss you around like they’re playing badminton or some shit.”

  I sigh, rubbing my face. “The field was basically destroyed so in addition to attending the other classes, me and the Lessers in my group spent the entire week rebuilding it and tending to the PTSD inflicted plants that survived my supernatural meltdown. My only saving grace was that it happened to be the smallest field on the compound. Otherwise, I’d still be there and so would my peers.” I look at them. “Still, you can imagine how many popularity points I earned with that debacle.”

  “But this can’t be your fault,” Celia says. “Can it?”

  “It is because funny thing about chanting and cultivating and all the magic swirling Vieve’s compound. It responds to your emotions, all of them. If it’s positive, the plants will grow and thrive. If it’s negative, you get your ass kicked.”

  “Which caused your arm to freak out,” Celia finishes for me.

  “Yeah. Hence all the lightning, electrocution, and overall mass destruction,” I mutter.

  Shayna puckers her brow, watching me closely. “T . . . what made you so mad?”

  “I wasn’t exactly mad,” I say.

  “You weren’t?” Emme asks carefully. “It sounds like you must have been furious.”

  I wasn’t angry. I’m still not and that’s the truth. Anger was there, but the overwhelming emotion was hurt. I don’t admit as much, but my sisters understand when I explain. “Gemini spends a lot a time with Vieve. The witches call him her ‘boyfriend’ and ‘lover’ among other things.”

  Emme bites down on her bottom lip as Shayna reaches for my hand. Celia, true to her inner tigress meets me with the anger I deny myself. “When you say other things, what does that mean exactly?”

  I let out a breath. Plant Day was awful, embarrassing, and physically painful with plenty of scratches and bruises to show for it. But it didn’t compare to what I felt seeing how close Gemini and Vieve have become.

  “Taran?” Celia says, blinking her tigress eyes away.

  I tuck my knees against me, staring toward my large picture window despite that the blinds are drawn. “He’s supposedly claimed her, and she’s his new mate,” I say, my voice growing distant.

  “What?” she asks, her tone morphing into a growl.

  “That’s not possible,” Shayna says, frowning. “You’re his mate. Not Genevieve. You only get one, T.”

  “It’s what they tell us,” I say. “But you didn’t hear what everyone was saying about them, and you didn’t see them together. There’s something between them.”

  “They work together,” Emme says, her focus trailing to Celia. “Isn’t that right? He’s the liaison between the Pack and the coven. He’s only there doing his job.”

  “This isn’t just a working relationship. He means more to her than that,” I say, wishing it wasn’t true.

  “No,” Celia says, her tone stern. “No way is this possible. Even if you severed your mate bond with him, it wouldn’t change who you are to him.”

  Alice shuffles out from the bathroom, appearing distressed when she sees me. “Ergh?’

  “I’m okay,” I tell her, more because I need her to be. Christ, even after the woodchuck, she seems to be falling apart. Well, I suppose that makes two of us.

  “Taran, I’m serious,” Celia insists, refusing to let it go. “Look, I know what you’re going through. I went through it with Aric when we were apart. All those females, throwing themselves at him, and our bond being broken like it was, I understand. You have to know that I do. But it didn’t change his feelings for me. I remained his one true love and who he desired.”

  “What if you’re wrong?” I ask, edging closer to her. “Aric is one wolf. With one beast. Gemini has two. Can that other half choose another mate? Because I’ll be honest, that’s what it looks like to me.”

  She tightens her mouth and doesn’t initially answer. “That can’t happen,” she tells me. “He and his beasts only know you.”

  My eyes sting even though I’m fighting not to cry. “You don’t know that,” I say, the way my voice cracks causing an immediate silence. “Even his wolves return to where he stands beside Vieve.”

  Alice pats my back, appearing sad. “Ergh.’”

  “It’s all right, girl,” I tell her.

  “It’s really not,” Celia says, anger clipping her tone. She rises. “I’m calling Aric and straightening this out.”

  “Don’t,” I insist, snagging her wrist. “I’m serious, Ceel. I can’t handle it if it’s true. I can’t handle much more.”

  My head falls into my hands as my sisters gather around and embrace me. They don’t say anything, they’re just there. But they always have been . . .

  I don’t cry, but it’s like the tears I don’t shed flow through my bloodstream, my body mourning the death of something I never should have allowed. I was never that person picking out her china or envisioning the perfect dress to wear on her big day. I never dreamed of that one guy. Then I met him, and everything changed.

  Gemini’s loss causes me so much grief I should cry, and fall apart. But damn it, I’m so tired of being weak and rejected based on what my body has become. So there aren’t any tears. There’s only my sisters holding me, assuring me that they aren’t going anywhere. Except seeing how my experience with the witches has gone, and how my arm continues to react in spite of Vieve’s bind, I can’t be sure I’ll be there for them. Or how much longer I’ll survive.

  So instead of pushing them away, and insisting I’ll be fine, I give into their embrace, and their love.

  I hear Alice shuffle away and back into the bathroom, followed by the sound of water turning on and what appears to be scrubbing. Lots and lots of scrubbing.

  I lift my head. “Is Alice brushing her teeth?”

  My sisters edge away and Emme exchanges glances with Shayna. “We’ll get you a new toothbrush,” she offers.

  “Seriously?” I ask, not wanting to think too much of what Alice is scraping off her teeth, and thankful I brushed my teeth when I used the bathroom earlier.

  “We had to teach her, T,” Shayna says. “She can’t afford to lose anymore.” Something clinks against the sink, making her wince. “I’ll fish it out before you go in there,” she offers.

  I rise, my stomach churning. Now is not the time to picture what’s waiting for me in the bathroom or if it’s going to try to crawl its way back in Alice’s mouth.

  “I think I should take her out,” I tell them, sounding as nauseous as I feel.

  “Hmm,” Celia says, trying to agree, but growing pale again.

  “You’re going out?” Emme asks.

  “I think it’s best.” I shove myself into the only pair of sweats I own. “Alice needs more ah, nourishment,” I add. “Nourishment” sounds better than “decaying critters”, but Ceel’s bleaching pallor makes me think my choice of words didn’t help much. “I’ll take her for a walk out back, maybe she can find something.”

  “Are you okay to go out by yourself?” Emme asks. “You haven’t eaten all day.”

  “I need to clear my head,” I admit. “I’ll grab something when we get back.” I zip up my hoodie and shove my feet into my sneakers by the door. “Hey, Alice. You hungry, girl? Want to go grab a bite outside?”

  Like the sound of the dinner bell, she takes off, fast. I steal a glance at my sisters. “Alice?” I call, walking quickly. The door leading out to the deck slams open, turning my urgent pace into a run.

  I bolt outside and to the edge of the railing, scanning the backyard before racing down the steps. Shayna grounds to a stop beside me as I reach the area where our lawn ends and the forest begins.

  “Did you see her run in there?” she asks.

  “No,” I say, whipping around. “I don�
�t know where she is.”

  Emme’s screams from the front of the house have us tearing across the front lawn. Celia is sitting against the side of the house with her head between her knees.

  “Ceel, what’s wrong?” I ask.

  She makes this funky motion with her hand toward Mrs. Mancuso’s front lawn. Emme is bouncing in place and pointing to what remains of Mrs. Mancuso’s flowerbed. Dirt and flowers are scattered all over the place. I don’t know what’s happening until I see Alice’s feet sticking out from the hole.

  “Oh, gawd,” I say.

  “What is she—”

  Shayna covers her mouth, gasping. Emme yells, confirming our fears, “She’s eating Ginger!”

  Because my life doesn’t suck enough, my zombie familiar is digging up my evil neighbor’s dead dog for dinner.

  “Son of a bitch. Alice, Alice!”

  “I don’t feel right,” Celia says. Her face is soaked, but instead of being pale, her cheeks are flushed.

  “Get her inside,” I tell Shayna, shoving her toward Celia.

  She starts to motion to where the chowtime is taking place until she gets a good look at Celia. Carrying a bit of Koda’s essence gives Shayna some strength. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to lift Celia to her feet and bear most of her weight.

  “Come on, Ceel,” she says, the smell and everything is probably too much for all your hormones and preggy self.”

  I don’t get a good whiff of that smell until I reach Emme. “Oh, man,” I mumble, the smell of death smacking hard against my nose. Yet it’s the crunching and slopping sounds that almost make me go horizontal. “Alice, leave it,” I say. “Leave it!”

  Like a dog who doesn’t want to let go of her bone, Alice starts eating faster. “God damn it,” I say, snagging her ankles.

  “What are you doing?” Emme asks, who looks about as healthy as I feel.

  I tug harder, glancing toward Mrs. Mancuso’s house. “Trying to get her out of here before Mancuso sees her.”

  Emme points to the hole, gagging. “She’s still eating.”

  I cringe. Good Lord, it’s like Cookie Monster found a bag of chocolate chip goodness. Only it’s not Cookie Monster, and for sure not cookies. I pull harder, managing to drag Alice out. “Emme, get Ginger.”