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Cassie Scot: ParaNormal Detective

Page 8

by Amsden, Christine


  The worst damage, though, was on the inside. Even though I knew it was an accident, the fact remained that my own mother had set me on fire in a moment of anger.

  “I’ll get Juliana,” Mom said.

  “No!”

  They both stared at me, but I stood my ground. I didn’t want to be taken care of, and I didn’t want to be protected, especially not by a girl who had stabbed me in the back.

  “I don’t want that lying witch to touch me.” I put extra emphasis on the word witch, because I knew it would drive Mom crazy. “What did she tell you happened, exactly?”

  Dad’s anger had been replaced with uncertainty. “She said you’d slept with him.”

  “I see.” I started to rise to my feet.

  “No, wait,” Mom said. “I’ll get some burn ointment. It’s just next door in the lab.” She left without waiting for me to respond.

  “You didn’t, did you?” The hardness on Dad’s face melted away as the realization struck.

  “No.”

  “I’m sorry. You know what Mom did–it was an accident. She lost control. She almost set Isaac on fire this morning. He managed a spectacular shield...”

  Dad trailed off, but I filled in the rest for him. If I hadn’t been such a disappointment, I could have protected myself, too.

  “We were just worried about you.”

  “Why?” I asked. I just didn’t get the level of anger. This wasn’t about loss of innocence–I had trouble imagining they’d react that way if they heard I slept with Braden. “What is so bad about Evan, anyway? I know you hate his dad, but he’s always been good to me.”

  Dad shook his head. “You don’t know everything about him.”

  “Enlighten me.”

  Just then, Mom came rushing back in with a bottle of burn ointment. She had the cap unscrewed before she even reached me, then she started rubbing huge quantities of the pale green ointment into the burns. They tingled, and began to feel better right away. She rubbed the ointment into shoulders, side, arm, and hand, then asked if she had missed anything.

  “No, that’s it.” I inspected my arms. The burn was already fading, though I knew it would take a couple more applications to get it all.

  “Put this on before bed tonight, and first thing in the morning.” Mom placed the bottle in my hand. “If that doesn’t take care of it, let me know right away.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “I’m sorry,” Mom said again.

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Why did you need to talk to us?”

  Since I still needed to have this conversation, I bit back my hurt feelings and told them about the vampire attack. They were both silent for a while, after I had finished.

  “I wanted to call Jason,” I said, “but I don’t know how to get in touch with him.”

  “I’ll give you his number,” Mom said. “It’s just so hard to believe...we haven’t seen a vampire around here in a long time. I didn’t think they would dare.”

  “One of them did.” I stood, and prepared to leave. I didn’t think I could stand anymore of their company. “I’ve got to get going. I’m already late for my lunch date. Oh, and I won’t be home for dinner tonight. I have a date with Braden.” I put special emphasis on the last sentence.

  “Braden?” Mom’s face brightened. “That’s nice. He’s good for you, right?”

  “I guess.”

  There was a pause. “I love you,” Dad said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Cassandra,” Mom began, then in a whisper, “Cassie.”

  She had never called me that before. I didn’t want to, but I softened at the show of effort.

  “I’m so sorry. I love you.”

  I swallowed. “I love you too, Mom.”

  I just wished I knew why they had been so angry.

  10

  WHEN I WAS IN THE tenth grade, the Eagle Rock cheerleading squad made the state finals. We were incredibly excited when we heard the news, even when the coach told us we’d have to get on a bus at five in the morning to make it to Jefferson City in time to compete.

  The day before the finals, I cut school to go to Springfield and get some gifts for the team. It was a spur of the moment decision. I’m not the sort of person who usually cuts class, but that day, I decided, was special. I talked an older teammate into driving me, and we browsed the shelves at the outlet mall until I found the perfect gifts–tiny gold crosses on woven gold chains. I found two similar crosses in the Catholic style (with a miniature Jesus) for the two Catholic girls on the squad, plus one for myself because I liked it better. For the agnostic in our group, I found a gold pendant in the shape of a teardrop.

  On Saturday, bright and early, we boarded the bus, and I passed the necklaces out to everyone on the team. “For protection,” I said. They took me seriously. It’s the last name.

  Here’s what you have to understand about crosses and other religious symbols: They have power because we believe they do. The necklaces were just gold–24 karat. One of them wasn’t even a cross, it was a teardrop. But we had faith in what those symbols represented. To each of us, I suppose, it was something subtly different: love, hope, salvation, redemption... What does it mean to you? That is it’s power.

  The night before our bus trip, a truck driver by the name of Jerry stayed up all night long, listening to loud music, and sipping energy drinks to stay awake. At around seven in the morning, he lost his fight with sleep and crossed the grassy median of Interstate 44 into the eastbound lanes.

  There wasn’t much of our bus left after the collision. Jerry and the bus driver were airlifted to a nearby hospital in critical condition (the bus driver later recovered; Jerry did not), but everyone else on the bus walked away with minor cuts and bruises.

  That’s the power of faith. We never made it to the state finals, but we made it home alive, and everyone agreed that was miracle enough for one day.

  * * *

  I stopped to phone Jason before leaving the house, picturing him as the awkward fifteen-year-old he had been the last time I had seen him. That had been eight years ago, and he must have changed a lot since then, because his voice, recorded on voice mail, did not fit my image.

  “Hi, this is Jason Blane. I’m either dead or with a vampire. Leave a message, and I’ll get back if I can.”

  What struck me about the recording was the calm certainty of it. He wasn’t joking. I left a quick message, feeling rather unsettled.

  Kaitlin’s Diner was packed when I finally made it to lunch, half an hour late.

  “There you are!” Kaitlin practically stampeded me at the door. “I tried to call you twice. Why didn’t you answer?”

  Because my cell phone had melted into the library floor. “Phone’s broken,” I said, not offering the details.

  “Oh God, Cassie, what happened to you?” Kaitlin pulled forward a lock of singed hair.

  “It’s a long story.” I wanted to tell Kaitlin about it, but not when any second, someone would call her over to refill their coke.

  As if on cue, someone yelled, “Hey, miss!”

  “Sorry,” Kaitlin said, hurrying away, leaving me to seek out my friends, Angie and Madison, at our usual booth.

  Among other things, Angie was a link to Lloyd and Lyons. She worked there as a receptionist. She also used to be on the cheerleading squad with Kaitlin and me, though our friendship had been a little off and on in high school. Her parents had religious issues with me, and sometimes, I thought she did as well.

  Angie was picture perfect, from her sun-streaked brown hair to her straight, white teeth. She was tall and thin, willowy I think some call it. She did look a bit like a strong wind would bend her. That day she wore a sleeveless red turtleneck, which made her look taller and thinner than usual. Lunch, as always, was a garden salad with light Italian salad dressing. Some days, she took half of it home in a doggie bag, but I hoped, for her sake, that it was all public show. One day I would get a look in her closet and find a private stash of candy
bars or potato chips.

  Sitting next to Angie, Madison looked large, though the contrast itself wasn’t fair. Madison is a little on the heavy side, but on her it’s all curves. Kaitlin says she looks like the girl next door, but my nearest neighbor is an 85-year-old witch who never looked a thing like Madison, even when she was young. Madison had friendly, attractive features: long, dark hair, bright green eyes, and a cherubic smile, but the best thing about her was her voice. Because of her shyness, I had only heard her sing a few times, but each time stood out in my memory.

  Madison and I weren’t great friends in high school, but we had gradually become close since then, when she came home from college. She had just graduated in May, managing to earn her degree in only three years. She had gone into college with something like twenty-six credits, and then flown through her coursework. In the fall, she would be student teaching elementary school music, and in the meantime, she worked part-time at the bank her father managed.

  When I joined them, they were both staring at my singed hair, their eyes wide with surprise, or curiosity, or disbelief. In Angie’s case, definitely disbelief. She didn’t believe in magic.

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said, hoping to forestall comment.

  “Cassie?” Madison clearly had not taken the hint. “You can’t just walk in here like someone threw you on the grill and not tell us what happened.”

  “It’s no big deal,” I said, but as my gaze shifted to Angie, I could tell that neither girl was going to let me off the hook.

  “Was it Nicolas?” Madison asked. “I heard he was trying to get a job with the fire department.”

  I sighed. I couldn’t let people think that, especially if it would ruin his chances to get the job he wanted. He had enough trouble with the fire chief as it was. “No, it wasn’t him. It was an accident. Mom’s pregnant again.”

  “Congratulations,” Angie said, “but what does that have to do with anything?”

  Madison tilted her head to the side in confusion, but before she had a chance to ask, Kaitlin came by to take my order. She gave me and Madison a warm smile that faltered somewhat when she shifted her gaze to Angie. The two didn’t get along and only pretended to try for my sake.

  “Did you go home after your date last night?” Kaitlin asked Angie.

  “What?” Angie’s face promptly turned as red as her turtleneck.

  “You wore that yesterday.”

  “It’s not what you think,” Angie said.

  I didn’t know what to think. Of all my friends, she was the one I was most certain was a virgin. Then again, she was just as certain I wasn’t, so possibly, we were both wrong.

  “How about a cheeseburger and coke?” I said, loudly, hoping to forestall any problems.

  “Sure.” Kaitlin went off to deal with another customer.

  “I heard Belinda Hewitt’s dead.” Madison cleared her throat and cast her eyes anxiously about before adding, “They’re saying it’s a vampire attack.”

  I didn’t know how word got around so quickly, but I decided, all things considered, that it might be better to confirm the rumors, especially if it helped my friends stay safe. So I nodded.

  Angie rolled her eyes. “There’s no such thing as vampires.”

  “Do you still have that cross I gave you back in tenth grade?” I asked.

  “Somewhere,” she said.

  “Well,” I said, trying to sound diplomatic, “it never hurts to wear it.” I fingered the gold cross around my own neck. “The monster may be literal or figurative, but faith still protects us.”

  Those must have been the magic words, because Angie softened. Aside from owning a hotel, her father was a preacher at the Gateway Christian Church of Eagle Rock, so she tended to respond to calls for faith.

  “I don’t have one,” Madison said, frowning.

  “Get behind a threshold at night,” I said. “That’s really the best thing to do. Vampires can’t come into a home unless they’re invited.”

  Angie looked ready to bolt, but before she got the chance, a loud, angry voice caught our attention. It was coming from a nearby booth, one a little closer to the door, and I had to turn completely around to see what was going on.

  I recognized the owner of the angry voice, though I couldn’t quite recall his name–maybe Dan or Dave or something similar. He was a local, a year or two ahead of us in school, and had always been known for causing trouble. He abused teachers and students indiscriminately, and though I’m sure he had some deep-seeded issues which made him act that way, I wasn’t inclined to charity when he aimed his abuse at my best friend.

  “I told you, no salad dressing,” he said, “and this water is dirty. There’s something floating in it. No wonder you can’t get a better job, if you can’t even manage a simple order.”

  “I’m sorry,” Kaitlin said, and I could tell she held onto civility by a thread. “Apparently, I misheard you. I’ll be happy to get you a new salad and glass of water.”

  “Here, take this one back to the kitchen.” Then, to everyone’s astonishment, Dan threw the salad at Kaitlin, showering her in bits of cheese and lettuce, and getting ranch salad dressing in her hair.

  The diner went silent, and everyone turned to watch the proceedings. I was trying to decide if I should do something, when Mrs. Meyer, Kaitlin’s mom and owner of the diner, hurried out from behind the bar to confront the customer.

  “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Mrs. Meyer said.

  “Why should I leave? I haven’t had my lunch yet.”

  The diner was so quiet by then that the jingle of the bell, announcing the presence of a new customer, rang out like a gunshot. I looked up to see Evan standing there, studying the quiet diner as if trying to figure out what he had just walked into.

  Neither Mrs. Meyer nor the abusive customer noticed him at all. “If you don’t leave,” Mrs. Meyer said, “I’ll call the police.”

  Dan sneered. “Why don’t you just get me some clean water?” With that, he threw the contents of the supposedly dirty glass at Mrs. Meyer, splashing liquid all down her front, and splattering a few drops on a nearby customer. “Call the police,” Mrs. Meyer said to someone in the kitchen.

  Evan moved away from the door, reaching Mrs. Meyer and the offensive customer in a few long, purposeful strides. As soon as the man saw him, the sneer fell from his face, and his eyes popped.

  “Get out,” Evan said. Just that. No threats, no raised voice, and not the slightest stirring of magic, which he rarely used in public, despite what many believed.

  Dan scrambled out of the booth and out the door, moving so fast that his legs got twisted up beneath him, causing him to fall on his face just outside the diner.

  A few people laughed, mostly tourists. The rest were a little too stunned by what they had just seen, or, more likely, thought they saw. I almost rolled my eyes, but figured it would do me no good.

  “I need to talk to Evan,” I said to my friends. “Sorry to cut our lunch short today.”

  I slid out of the booth, crossed the short distance between us, and touched Evan on the shoulder. “Let me give Kaitlin a hand, then I’ll be right out.”

  “Fine.”

  Kaitlin hadn’t moved, so I grabbed her by the arm and led her to the kitchen to help get her clean. We slid through the double doors, steered past a few cooks who were trying to figure out what had happened, and made our way to a hand sink near the back.

  Kaitlin grabbed a clean towel, dampened it, and tried to scrub salad dressing off her face. “Someone turned up the crazy today.”

  I couldn’t argue with that one, so I just took the towel from her and started dabbing dressing out of her red curls.

  “I’ve got to quit this place,” Kaitlin said. “It’s not healthy.”

  “The cheeseburgers do have about a thousand grams of fat in them.”

  “I’m serious,” Kaitlin said.

  “I know you are.”

  “You look like you’re having about
as good a day as I am. Want to talk about it? We could hang out at my place after work.”

  “Can’t,” I said, “I’ve got a date.”

  “So do I. So what?”

  I almost laughed, but since I suspected Kaitlin was having trouble with her boyfriend, I couldn’t quite manage it. “I want to keep mine.”

  “So what happened to you?” Kaitlin asked, fingering my hair.

  “My mom’s pregnant again.” I don’t know why that’s the first thing I told her.

  “That’s cool. I wish I had a big family.”

  I handed Kaitlin the towel again. “I’ve done what I can.” She would need to wash it properly to get the rest out.

  “Did you see what Evan did?” Kaitlin said, taking the towel and dabbing it at the front of her uniform.

  The entire kitchen staff was busily trying to pretend not to listen.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “Sure you don’t. He made that guy fall on his face.”

  I doubted it, but didn’t think Kaitlin would believe me if I tried to explain. “All he did was walk in, and tell the guy to get out.”

  “Yes, but did you see the look on his face?” Kaitlin asked, and then, before I had a chance to respond, she plucked the crystal I had gotten her the day before out of her front pocket. “He came by this morning.”

  “Did he apologize?”

  “Not exactly, but he said this thing wasn’t very strong, so he took it and did something to it. Now it’s almost hot.”

  “Really?” He had clearly put some real protections on the crystal, but giving away magic like that wasn’t usually done.

  “Did you know I had a crush on him in school?” Kaitlin went on.

  “Um, no.” I looked toward the door, dreaming of escape so I wouldn’t have to hear more on the subject. “I’m glad you’re not scared of him anymore, though.”

  “Who said I wasn’t?” Kaitlin laughed.

  I shook my head. “I’m going to head back, if you’re okay.”

  “Sure, I’m fine. Thanks.”

  When I returned to the dining room, it looked as if nothing had happened, except, of course, that Evan sat in the booth recently vacated by Dan. I sat across from him, offering a forced smile he didn’t return.

 

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