Their waitress arrived and Cara ordered a diet soda. Garren said he was fine with water. Cara felt comfortable ordering the filet mignon, since Garren had mentioned it, even though it was pricey. She had a feeling he’d insist on paying. He ordered the salmon.
The waitress batted her eyelashes at him.
He waved a hand toward Cara. “My date is the editor of her school paper. The first issue came out today. She did an excellent job on it.”
The waitress paused uncomfortably before she congratulated Cara. As odd as it was for Garren to publicly praise her, a familiar flutter of appreciation tickled Cara’s chest. Garren’s royal treatment felt especially nice right now, considering Rachel had completely ignored her lately and David was off limits.
* * *
Cara and Garren arrived at the school for the latter part of the dance. Dozens of people in a mixture of formal wear and Halloween costumes crowded the gym. The dancers were speckled with bright lights that reflected off the silver-faceted orb hanging from the ceiling. Couples moved to the beat of the music pounding from large speakers on either side of the school’s stage, which was curtained off and decorated with orange and black streamers and balloons. Other students gathered around the perimeter of the darkened gym.
Cara wound her arm through Garren’s and he led her to the dance floor. At the few school dances she’d been to, she’d felt klutzy dancing and could hardly move her feet. Chris had held her too close and had tried to feel her up.
Garren held her at a proper half-arm’s length, folded her hand around his, and placed his other hand on her back. They danced to the slower rhythm of a ballad and he leaned back and forth and side-to-side to guide her movements. Thrilled that she pulled off formal dancing for once, she couldn’t stop smiling. Garren beamed at her.
The next time he twirled her around, she spotted a long table across the room, draped in black crepe paper and cornered off with glowing orange jack-o’-lanterns. David sat on a stool behind the table. His face was turned in her direction, but she couldn’t read his expression in the dark.
Garren took a step back and lightly held her by her forearms. “I’ll walk you over so you can say hello to David.”
She shrugged apologetically. “Thanks. You’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all.”
Garren kept an arm around her waist as they made their way off the dance floor. David’s deep green eyes lit up in the jack-o’-lanterns’ candlelight. Cara met his gaze and felt the familiar warm tug pulling her closer to him.
“Got stuck with chaperone duty?” she asked him.
“It’s always the rookie’s job.” He seemed to hone in on Garren’s hand on her side.
“I’m going to visit the restroom. I’ll be right back,” Garren said.
“Take your time,” David told him.
She looked at David’s eyebrows rather than his eyes, hoping that would calm her nerves. It didn’t. “It’s good to see you.” Pretending to push away tendrils of hair, she waved at her face to try to cool it down.
“You look great.” He held out his hand.
Droplets of sweat broke out at her hairline, but she placed a dry hand in his. The tether’s draw grew stronger. He bent toward her over the table, smiled slightly, and raised her hand to sniff the corsage on her wrist.
His smile faded. “Be good tonight.” He brushed his thumb over the top of her hand before he let it go.
Her throat closed up, but she managed a flimsy smile and a nod. He flashed her his lopsided grin. All traces of the grin disappeared, however, when Garren came back to her side and wrapped his arm around her.
“We should go,” Garren said, offering David a toned-down version of his dazzling smile.
Garren was right. If she stayed and continued to talk to David, people would notice the closer-than-normal interaction between them, if they hadn’t already. She reluctantly said good-bye.
Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw that David was still watching her. He frowned. She frowned back, only turning away when Garren directed her attention to a dark corner. Two figures in black emerged and moved toward the exit.
“Rachel and Ethan are leaving,” Garren said. “You could talk to Rachel.”
Part of her wanted to. Another part of her recoiled at the thought. When she’d finally told Garren about the incident when she’d planned to drag Rachel to church, he hadn’t been surprised. He reminded her, once again, that Rachel needed prayer to help her, but that she also needed to be receptive to it. So far, Rachel didn’t seem open to any kind of interaction, except with Ethan.
“She’s probably still mad at me.”
“You could say hi to her, at least.”
“How about we leave and say good-bye to her instead?”
Garren held his arm out to let her lead the way. They caught up to Rachel and Ethan under the glaring white overhead lights of the parking lot.
“Didn’t you like the dance, Rachel?” Cara asked, speaking to her from behind.
The old Rachel would’ve been ecstatic about dances. Cara didn’t get too close, uneasy about which Rachel might face her.
Rachel stopped, then spun around, her eyes dark and hazy. No anger shone in them. In fact, there wasn’t any recognizable feeling in them. Ethan’s eyes narrowed so much, they weren’t visible.
Turning her nose up at Garren, Rachel said, “We’re heading to a real party.” Her tone was mocking, the same as it had been when Cara had brought Christmas cookies to her before Halloween. Rachel hooked her arm through Ethan’s and they stalked off toward his black Chevy Malibu.
Garren led Cara to his truck and helped her into the cab, then shut her door and went around to climb in and start the engine.
A familiar candy apple red Jetta pulled up next to them, on Cara’s side. Cara couldn’t see the driver through the dark-tinted windows.
“You recognize that car,” Garren said, his expression customarily calm and unreadable.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve seen it a couple of times—at Liberty Charters and driving behind us on my birthday.”
“It’s got the same California plates.”
So Garren had checked out the car on the byway after all.
“It seems to be following Ethan,” she said as the Jetta drove away and turned onto the street behind the Malibu.
“It looks that way.”
Now that Rachel and Ethan were somehow associated with the Jetta, Cara couldn’t let this go. “Let’s follow Ethan and Rachel to that party.”
“We weren’t invited.”
“Rachel told us they were headed to a party. I can mistake that for an invitation, can’t I?”
He shifted the truck into drive. “If you say so.”
They exited the parking lot and sped up to get closer to the Jetta. Garren pulled over when the Malibu and Jetta turned down a side street.
“I’m only going to take you if you’re sure you want to go,” he said, evaluating her.
“I can get a better idea of what Rachel’s messing around with if we crash the party. I want to go.”
He put the truck back in drive. “Then I’ll go with you.”
“I wouldn’t go in without you, I’ll tell you that.” But she didn’t know if what she said was true. Anger swelled within her with each breath, mingling and competing with her fear.
Garren turned down the side road. Both the Malibu and the Jetta were parked on the right side of the street, in a row along with half a dozen other vehicles. Some teenagers or adults in costumes wandered down the opposite side of the road, but no one else was out.
The most activity on the block appeared to occur in a small, one-story house. Silhouettes dotted the curtains covering two lit windows on either side of the door, as well as another curtained-off window on the side of the house. Diffuse, flickering light shone from within.
Garren parked a block away. He helped Cara down from the truck’s cab and tucked her arm through his. Their progress toward the house was slow, due t
o her nerves and high heels. Her knees shook when they finally walked up the few steps to the front porch, which was dark and barren of any Halloween decorations.
She knocked on the door and a blond Ethan look-alike answered. He grimaced at Garren.
“We’re here to see Rachel,” she said, standing tall and holding her chin high, though she had no idea if this guy even knew who Rachel was.
His eyes slithered over her. Her knees stopped smacking together and she tugged her bolero together over her chest. If she slapped the pervert, he might not let her in.
The guy’s lips twisted into a mischievous grin. He glanced over his shoulder. “Rachel got started on a group thing. But you’re welcome to wait with me until she’s done.” He licked his lips.
Garren tightened his grip on her arm. “She’ll wait with me.” He pulled her to his other side and pushed past the door guy.
If there had been much noise at the party before, it died down when they showed up. Black and orange taper candles burned in candelabras throughout the two visible rooms. The potent odor of sulfur hung in the air, mixed with scents of sweet and pungent herbs. The combination made Cara’s stomach turn. She was indoors, yet she shivered at a chill in the air and rubbed her hands over her arms.
A dozen or more people crammed into the front living area. Some piled onto a black leather sofa and a matching club chair, others stood. Their outfits were casual or gothic ensembles in shades of black or gray.
Of the people in the front room, Cara recognized a good number of faces as former Seaside students who’d been seniors when she was a freshman. There were also a handful of current fellow students in the gathering, including a few girls from the popular clan. The others were quiet types, like Ethan. There was even a nurse Cara recognized from her recent visit to the hospital. The only greetings Cara and Garren received were blank stares.
All but a few people in the front room drank from metal chalices, like the one on Rachel’s vanity, or from clear wineglasses or beer bottles. Endless bunches of glowing candles threw giant shadows everywhere. Distorted images on the walls made the house look twice as full.
At first, Cara was glad to spot Rachel’s black cascade of hair in the next room. But when she and Garren moved around the side of the table where Rachel and Ethan sat, she saw they were part of a group surrounding a Ouija board. Their eyes remained closed as their fingers perched atop the game piece that resembled a white heart.
Lori, who had hostessed at the Cove, was the only person at the Ouija table with her eyes open. She dramatized each word she spoke. “It says, ‘Get out.’”
A flash of long blonde hair registered in the corner of Cara’s eye. Amber’s curls brushed the top of a small table covered with tarot cards. A group of people lined up next to her post.
Amber’s mouth broke out in an expectant grin and her sharklike eyes stabbed at Cara’s. Involuntarily flinching and blinking, Cara was unable to look away until Lori’s overbearing voice carried over.
“It keeps saying, ‘Get out.’”
Rachel, Ethan, and their séance partners opened their eyes. They exchanged anxious murmurs as they watched the board. None of the participants touched the game piece, yet it moved in rapid circles, flew lengthwise across the table, crashed into the wall, and fell to the floor. Cara stared at it, her jaw hanging open in disbelief.
Looking as collected as ever, Garren grabbed the Ouija board from the table and broke it in half over his knee. It seemed like every head turned to look at him. He flung the two halves of the board to his sides.
Several people veered out of the way. Others left the house. Cara watched Garren, shocked. She’d never seen him act any way other than calmly.
Amber didn’t so much as shift in her seat. Garren approached her and her mouth curled into a snarl. The group lined up for her scurried toward the edges of the room. With one hand, Garren overturned Amber’s table, sending the tarot cards flying and fluttering to the ground.
Amber rose from her seat and her words came out in a guttural growl. “Get out.”
Garren stepped up to her. “This won’t be tolerated much longer.”
Cara wasn’t sure what to make of Garren’s comment. And she was surprised that it sounded as if Garren and Amber knew each other.
Garren didn’t wait for a response from Amber. Instead, he turned to the partygoers. “These are not games you’re playing. You’re not conjuring up harmless spirits. You’re summoning demons that want to destroy you.”
Rachel and Ethan moved to stand on either side of Amber, like bodyguards. The crowd Garren said Ethan hung out with obviously centered around Amber. And now, apparently, that crowd also included Rachel. Ethan’s mouth set in a tight, thin line and Rachel’s black eyes gleamed as she glared back and forth between Cara and Garren. Cara shrunk back from their sinister expressions.
Amber glided forth like royalty, in a full-length, black formal dress. Maybe she’d dressed up for the high school dance. Her car had been in the parking lot.
Garren moved to Cara’s side as Amber advanced. Cara was tempted to cower behind him, but she forced herself to stay put. Amber stopped within inches of him and pointed at the door.
Her words were the same as before, but she sounded calmer and more confident. “Get out.”
Garren ignored Amber and put a hand on Cara’s shoulder. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Cara.”
Unable to speak, Cara shook her head at him. He was the only person present who didn’t scare her.
A disgusted scowl shrouded Amber’s face and her eyes burned in the candlelight, shifting from black glass to blue flames as they fixed on Cara. She held up her right fist and wrapped her left hand around it, as if trying to restrain herself from using it.
Adrenaline flushed through Cara’s veins and her heart pounded painfully in her chest. Every muscle in her body tightened and she felt as prepared to fight as she was to flee.
Amber placed her hands on her hips. Her eyes had returned to their normal cobalt blue color. “You think you’re so much better than me, don’t you?” she asked Cara with a sneer.
“I’m definitely saner.” Cara surprised herself with her bold, though true, words.
“And you think you’re funny, too. Well, you won’t be laughing for long. You made the wrong move when you stole Chris from me.”
“I didn’t steal Chris from you. And if you don’t know, he dumped me, too.”
“Of course he dumped you. But you did steal him. Though I have no idea how.”
Amber’s eyes focused on Cara’s hair and face before they trailed over her dress and down to her shoes. Anger rose to a full boil within Cara, but she kept her mouth shut and her hands to herself.
“I got Chris back, you know, after he was finished with you. But you messed him up so badly I had to put a binding spell on him.”
Chris had been messed up long before Cara had anything to do with him, but she thought better of saying so.
“The spell worked a little too well. He moved down to California to be with me. Then he became insanely jealous.”
Cara doubted a spell had anything to do with it, but it served the witch right that Chris turned possessive on her.
“I couldn’t reverse the spell. So he shot himself.”
Cara’s breath caught in her throat and she took an involuntary step backward. “How awful. Is he…?”
“Dead? Yes. And you know who’s to blame for that? You.”
“What? I did nothing to Chris other than say ‘no’ when he only wanted one thing.”
“You knew we were together,” Amber said through clenched teeth.
The whole school had known Chris and Amber were together, before Chris broke up with Amber and asked Cara out. But Amber didn’t look like the issue was open for discussion. And she was clearly out of her mind—and dangerous.
Amber cocked her head to the side. “The next move is mine. I’m only going to warn you once. Leave David to me.”
* * *
W
orried she might do or say something she’d regret, Cara rushed out of the house. Garren followed her and helped her down the stairs and to his truck. The shaking in her knees had grown exponentially since they’d arrived. She couldn’t help checking over her shoulder to make sure no one had followed them.
On the ride home, after a few moments of loaded silence, she asked Garren, “Do you know Amber?”
“No. But I know about her involvement with sorcery. You must have noticed the heavy smell of sulfur in the house.”
“There were so many candles burning in there, I wouldn’t be surprised if the place burned down.”
“The smell wasn’t from candles. Sulfur is a sign of demons.”
“Or matches.”
“The smell was too strong to have come from matches.”
“There were other gag-inducing smells in there, too.”
“The herbs you smelled are used in witchcraft. And cold spots signal the presence of spirits.” Uncommon worry lines branched across Garren’s typically smooth forehead. “I hope you’re not afraid of me now.”
“I’m impressed, actually.”
His face returned to its normal state of perfection. “Those people don’t know the dangers they’re dealing with. There is no such thing as harmless sorcery or white magick, not when entities are being called upon.”
“To be honest, I always thought it would be fun to play with a Ouija board or tarot cards. I just never found an opportunity. But lots of people do. I have a hard time believing it’s as risky as you’re making it out to be.”
“This situation is rare. The evil effects of sorcery are usually limited. But all the effects, when help is summoned, are the result of demonic influence.”
“So, if magick done by summoning is always the effect of evil, then I take it you didn’t work any of that sort of magick with the roses you gave me?”
“I did nothing to the roses.”
“Then your source must have done something to them.”
“Yes. But no magick was involved.”
“And you can’t tell me what your source did to the flowers?”
“No. Sorry.”
Of course. She sighed and shook her head.
Save Me Page 13