Inner Demons

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Inner Demons Page 5

by Sarra Cannon


  “Cool. You wanna go look for dresses together then?”

  “No,” she said.

  I shook my head, not sure I'd heard her right. “No?”

  “No.” She walked toward me and started to shut her door.

  “Can you at least tell me the name of the store?” I asked.

  “Rags,” she said, then closed the door.

  I really didn't get her. What had I ever done to piss her off? I started to knock on her door again, but she started blasting her music.

  I decided to see if Courtney wanted to go instead. Ella Mae gave us each fifty bucks and dropped us off downtown while she went to run some errands.

  I was a little concerned at first since we had to walk down a dead alleyway to get to the thrift store, but I relaxed once we got inside. There were three full racks of dresses, and they didn't look terribly bad.

  Courtney wasn't going to the dance, so she walked over to the other side of the store to look for a new pair of jeans. Music blared in the background. Some punk band with a screaming female vocalist. I wasn't surprised this was Mary Anne's type of place. She seemed to fit here.

  A plain black dress caught my eye and I pulled it from the rack. I held it up against my body. The hem of the dress fell a few inches above my knee. I checked the size. Six. Perfect. Then I checked the price tag. Thirty bucks. Even more perfect.

  I made my way to the counter. “Is there a dressing room here?”

  The guy at the counter had six different piercings on his face. He gave me a nod and carried my dress to the back. I heard the bell on the front door jingle and looked to see who had come into the store. I paused. It was the girl from the pep rally the other day. The girl Jackson had been arguing with.

  She was dressed in all black again, just like Mary Anne. Her black hair was pulled up into braided pig tails, streaks of teal running through it this time instead of red. She looked straight at me, and I ducked my head and made a beeline for the dressing room, sure she had caught me staring. Again.

  There was definitely something intriguing about that girl. Like I knew her from somewhere. Or that I was supposed to know her.

  I was alone in the dressing area. I stripped my clothes of and slipped the black dress over my body. The bottom hem was frayed and there were sequins missing from the straps, but it was a perfect fit. There were no mirrors in the dressing room so I stepped back into the hallway to see if there was one out there.

  I gasped as I nearly ran into the girl in black. My hand went to my heart. “Oh my God, I'm sorry. You scared me to death.”

  The girl didn't laugh or even change facial expressions. Her dark eyes bored into me. The smile left my face, and my heart pounded in my ears. I knew without a doubt that this girl didn't like me. I could feel anger radiating off of her like hot sun off blacktop. For a moment, I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.

  “Harper Madison,” she said. “The shining hope of our little hamlet.”

  What did she mean by shining hope? I felt uncomfortable being alone with her in the back hall like this. She scared me with her dark confidence. “And you are?”

  “Morgyn Baker.”

  “Well, nice to meet you too, Morgyn,” I said. I tried to step past her but she put her hand up against the wall to block me.

  “I want you to stay away from Jackson Hunt,” she said.

  Not exactly what I'd expected her to say. “I've hardly ever talked to the guy.”

  “That's not true and you know it. You may not exactly remember it.” She picked up my hand and ran her finger along the scar on my palm. “But you know it.”

  I shivered. Who was this girl? And what role did she play in this town with all its secrets and lies and strange powers? Was she a witch?

  I wanted to ask her what she knew about my scar, but she turned away before I got the chance. She disappeared out into the store and a few seconds later, I heard the little bell over the door jingle.

  What Did I Really Know About Jackson Hunt?

  I laid my new black dress across the bed and felt a chill. My window was open and the air outside was getting colder as the sun started to go down. It was that strange time of year in Georgia when the days were still nice and warm, but the nights were freezing. I rubbed my arms to warm them, and walked over to the window to shut it.

  Voices in the garden caught my attention. It was getting darker outside, but there was still enough light to make out the two figures half-hidden in the tall weeds. Mary Anne and Jackson. They were talking. I saw Jackson hold something out to her. She hesitated, looked around, then took a small vial from him and shoved it in her pocket.

  I stared down, confused. What exactly had I just witnessed? Some kind of drug deal?

  “Come on, Jackson, give me what I want.”

  Tori's voice came back to me. I'd seen them down in the garden together the first night I moved to Shadowford, and Tori had wanted something from him that he wouldn't give her. It was another one of those memories that seemed to come out of nowhere. That had been happening to me a lot lately. As if my own memory was a puzzle slowly putting itself back together over time.

  I thought about the way that girl Morgyn had touched the scar on my palm that afternoon. She had said something about me not remembering things. How did she know about that scar? Ella Mae told me I got it when I passed out from the fever, but sometimes I wondered.

  I looked down at Jackson and Mary Anne in the garden. They were still talking, huddled close together like they shared some great secret.

  What had he handed her in that vial? He didn't seem like the drug dealer type. It didn't really seem to match the softness in his eyes, but what did I really know about Jackson Hunt? I looked down at my scarred palm. Maybe I knew more than I could remember.

  I'm Really Not Allowed to Talk About It

  “What are you thinking about?” Brooke asked. We were down in the training room studying history. Or at least that's what we were supposed to be doing. Instead, most of the girls had paired off to talk about Brooke's eighteenth birthday party coming up on Saturday. They talked about what they planned to wear or who they planned to bring. I had been so focused on Homecoming and magic and secrets, I had almost forgotten about the party.

  I shrugged. “Nothing, I guess.”

  “You look like you're a million miles away,” she said. “Everything okay?”

  “Yep,” I said, trying to keep my tone light. I changed the subject. “I can't wait for the party.”

  “Oh my God, it's going to be totally insane. My parents are pulling out all the stops.”

  “Someone said the theme is a night at the fair?”

  “Yes,” she said. She turned her body toward me on the bench and talked excitedly about the plans. “There's going to be a huge ferris wheel and everything.”

  My mouth opened slightly in surprise. When she said her parents were pulling out all the stops, the girl wasn't joking around. “Just as long as I get some cotton candy, I'll be fine.”

  She giggled. “I'll make sure you get cotton candy in every color.”

  “Sweet,” I said. I turned back to the notebook on the table. Our task for the afternoon was to practice writing on the pages without touching the pen. So far, all I'd written in my notebook was my name and today's date. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” she said.

  “What happens when you turn eighteen?” My pen sailed across the page, writing my name in cursive this time with swirly curly letters.

  “What do you mean?”

  I looked around to make sure Mrs. King wasn't standing near us. “I mean the final induction into the Order of Shadows.”

  “You know I can't tell you that,” she said. Her voice got quiet and she turned to her own notebook.

  “Do you even know?”

  I saw a scared look cross over her normally calm features. “Sure, it's just a secret from those of you further down the food chain.”

  She was lying. I could see it in her face. So in just a fe
w days, they were planning to put her through some kind of secret final phase of training and they hadn't even told her what to expect? I didn't like the sound of that. I mean, why was it such a big secret?

  “Can you at least tell me when it happens? I mean, your birthday is actually Saturday right?”

  She shook her head. “No, technically it's Sunday, but who wants to have a blow-out party on a Sunday night, then have to go to school the next morning? The party would be over by nine. I figured it would be a lot more fun to do it Saturday when people have late curfews. There's going to be a special surprise at midnight.”

  “That sounds great,” I said. “Do you really have a band there for the whole night?”“Booked 'em till 2 am this year,” she said. “My parents went through the roof at the cost, but who cares? It's not like they can't afford it.”

  Yeah, her birthday party band probably cost more than Ms. Shadowford spent on all three of the girls living at Shadowford in a year.

  “So the ritual happens Sunday?”

  She shifted in her seat. “I'm really not allowed to talk about it.”

  I studied her face as she concentrated on the notebook and pen in front of her. She looked nervous. Mrs. King made it seem like the Order was full of amazing women who did so much to help this community. So what was with all the secrecy? I had no idea what the Order had planned for Brooke this weekend, but all of a sudden, I was determined to find a way to attend her initiation ceremony.

  The Color of Air

  That night, alone in my room, I worked on glamours and thought about Brooke's ceremony. The more I practiced, the stronger I felt. No one knew I could do a glamour, so what if I made myself look like one of the Order, then just walked into the ceremony like I was one of them?

  I shook my head. I had no idea what the members of the Order looked like when they did one of these rituals. For all I knew, they could show up all wearing pink tutu's and tiaras. I couldn't count on seeing them far enough in advance to work up an identical glamour. I needed to find another way in.

  What if I could make myself into something super small? Something that wouldn't be noticed in the room. But what? A fly? A speck of dust? A mouse? I had no idea if I could do a glamour that would change my size so drastically.

  Lark had said those kinds of glamours didn't last long anyway, and it would suck to suddenly change from a mouse to full-size me smack in the middle of the initiation.

  No, I needed to come up with something simple. Something I could maintain for at least a couple of hours. Lark had said it was easiest to create a glamour when you were just changing the color or outside look of something rather than trying to change the size or shape.

  I racked my brain. I needed to be at that ceremony. I still had a couple of years before I was expected to go through my own initiation ceremony, but I hated the idea of going through this whole training process with no idea what was waiting for me on the other side. I mean, if you wanted to join a country club, they at least let you go on a tour of the place first. Not that I'd ever been to a country club, but they probably all allowed tours before you plunked down your money to become a member.

  Why wouldn't the Order of Shadows let us see behind the curtain, then? What could they possibly be hiding?

  I thought about the demon tattoo on my back. Brooke was the one in charge of giving those tattoos to the new recruits, and I was willing to bet money she was told to tell every one of us that the tattoo was no big deal. As long as she got us to agree with it, that was all that mattered. Once the tattoo was complete, there was no turning back.

  I didn't ever want to be caught in that situation again.

  I stared down at my hand. What if I could change the color of my skin? I could make my entire body and my clothes to be as black a midnight. I could hide in the shadows and follow them to the ritual site.

  Then, I had an even better idea.

  I held my hand out in front of my face and concentrated all of my energy into making it the color of nothing. The color of air.

  Slowly, my hand disappeared. I smiled. I had just found my way in.

  Happy Birthday Brooke

  Brooke's eighteenth birthday party was set to be the party of the year. A band. A giant ferris wheel. Stands set up with typical fair games like ring toss and whack-a-mole. There were even rumors of fire dancers. After the way the last party I attended sort of went up in flames and I almost died, I wasn't terribly excited about the idea of yet another party, but of course I had to go. Everyone on the team was going.

  I studied my reflection in the mirror one last time. I had used magic to straighten my normally wavy blonde hair and it fell straight down my back in long silky layers. I didn't want to do anything too taxing since I knew I'd need all my power for the ceremony. On the other hand, straightening my hair kept me connected to the power. It fed me.

  I wore a new pair of skinny jeans I'd picked up at the thrift store with my black boots over the top, a black long sleeve shirt and a white faux fur vest I'd borrowed from Lark. I was surprised at how much I looked like my new friends. Being a part of the cheerleading squad had really changed me in such a short period of time.

  With a somewhat nervous sigh, I grabbed my purse and headed out. Drake picked me up as usual. He looked amazing in his dark jeans and white button-up dress shirt. Very cool and casual. Had I judged him too harshly? Maybe I should stop keeping him at arm's length and give him a shot at being a real boyfriend for a change.

  “You ready for a real party?” he asked when I got in the car.

  “Sure. What makes this one real as opposed to other parties?”

  “Because this is all-out,” he said, pulling onto the highway. “Brooke's parents are always trying to top themselves and believe me, when Brooke's older sister turned eighteen, they had the party of the century. People still talk about how wild and outrageous that party was, and that was what? Six years ago? I'm expecting nothing but amazing tonight.”

  “Wow, what do people say about the last party? Did you go?”

  “No,” he said. “I was like twelve. But people talked about how amazing the food was. Oh and they had this circus theme with animals in cages and circus acts going on in different tents. It was wild. I'm dying to see what they did with a fair theme.”

  “You seem pretty excited about it.”

  “Hell yeah. Aren't you?”

  “I guess.”

  “You guess? After everything we've been through already this year, I'm ready to just have a good time. No drama. Just plain old fashioned fun.”

  I relaxed as he squeezed my leg and smiled. It would definitely be nice to have a night with no drama. Drake pushed the button to open his sunroof, then stuck his hand through and yelled, “Woohooo!”

  I laughed. “You dork.”

  “Proud of it,” he said.

  When we pulled up to the party, an actual valet in a black vest and tie took the keys and parked the car for us. Even from out front we could hear the blazing music in the backyard. Brooke's family lived pretty far outside of town on a huge farm. At least they wouldn't have to worry about upsetting any neighbors with the noise. There wasn't a house within a mile from here.

  When we walked through the gate to the backyard, a guy in jeans and a red cowboy shirt asked if he could get us something to drink. I ordered a diet coke. Drake ordered a beer.

  I laughed and hit him in the ribs with my elbow. “They aren't going to bring you a beer, you dork. You're underage.”

  “It's a private party,” Drake said. “No one cares if we drink as long as we don't drive home or damage anybody's property.”

  “You're kidding me.” I looked to the waiter to see if he would disagree, but instead he wrote down the order and walked away to go get the drinks.

  “Your next drink should definitely be something fruity like a Cosmo or something.”

  “There's Brooke,” I said. I didn't want to get pressured into drinking tonight so I changed the subject. I needed all my senses to pull of tha
t glamour later.

  I pointed over toward the stage. Brooke was standing there with Foster and a few other guys from the football team. She looked amazing in tight black leather pants, a red strapless corset and black and white cowboy boots. Very un-Brooke. She was usually little miss conservative when it came to clothing.

  “Let's go over and wish her happy birthday,” he said.

  We walked over and Brooke gave me a huge hug. “I'm so glad you're here!”

  She practically squealed in my ear. I couldn't tell if she was drunk or just high on being the center of attention, but she was definitely acting different. She was usually so reserved.

  “Happy Birthday, Brooke,” I said. “You look unreal.”

  “Thanks,” she said. “I figured tonight was a night to just let loose and go wild.”

  “I like the sound of that,” Foster said, kissing her neck.

  I was still holding her present in my hands. It was a new Coach purse that cost over two hundred dollars. Drake's mom had picked it out and put both mine and Drake's names on the card. “Where can we put these?”

  “Oh, gosh.” She looked around. “I think they set up a gift table over by the face painting,” she said.

  “We just got here, but so far it looks amazing,” I said. “This is such a cool theme.”

  “My parents totally outdid themselves tonight.”

  “I know, I can't decide what to do first.”

  “Dance with me later?”

  “Sure, I said. Of course.”

  “Okay, y’all have fun, I'm gonna go say hi to a group of Mom's friends who just got here.” She leaned over and actually kissed me on the cheek. Definitely not typical Brooke. I smelled alcohol on her breath and figured she'd been drinking for quite a while before the party got started.

 

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