“Thank you so much. I’ll write down a super easy reinstatement charm.”
She grabs a pen and notepad out of her Louis Vuitton bag, jots something down quickly, then rips out the page and hands it to me. I stuff it in my pocket. “You have to mix damiana with balm of Gilead buds,” she says. “When you use them together, they strengthen a charm’s ability to bring back a drifting lover.”
“You sure you want to do this?” I ask.
“Of course, Eveny.” She pauses, then brightens suddenly. “Hey, want me to write a love charm for you too?”
My mind immediately goes to Caleb and how drawn I feel to him, how many things stand in our way. “Nah,” I say. “Thanks, but I think I’ll do it the old-fashioned way.”
Chloe looks perplexed. “Suit yourself,” she says and disappears out the door to find Peregrine.
Exhausted from working the charms in the parlor, I go to bed early and set my alarm so I can make a quick trip to the cemetery on Chloe’s behalf under cover of darkness.
At nearly two a.m., clutching the Justin doll, I slip out the back door and over the garden wall by the light of the moon.
“Don’t freak out. Don’t freak out,” I say to myself as I move past fog-draped tombs. I don’t think there will ever be a time when I’m not nervous to be in a graveyard in the middle of the night. But I promised Chloe, and I’m eager to see if a charm like this works when I do it alone.
Standing at the crossroads, I touch my Stone of Carrefour and call on Eloi Oke. I feel the now-familiar change in air pressure, and I know the door to the spirit world has once again opened. I take a deep breath and quickly skim the words Chloe has jotted down. I shake my head in amusement when I realize she’s written them in rhyme, then I chant them quickly aloud.
The magic lifted, and some were hurt.
I restore it now, back in the dirt.
The charms of Chloe will work through this doll
On Justin’s heart, through it all.
I rebury the Justin doll and a flannel sachet of damiana and balm of Gilead buds along with it. As I kick the dirt over the doll, concealing him completely, I feel a quick whoosh of wind, and the dust settles.
I stand there for a moment, then bend and touch the dirt again. I reach for my Stone of Carrefour with my left ring finger and say, “Also, spirits, if you’re still listening, if Justin isn’t a good guy, or if he doesn’t care about Chloe at all, please make her realize that before he breaks her heart.”
I hastily straighten up, brush my hands off, and turn to walk back toward my house, and that’s when I suddenly hear pounding footsteps getting rapidly closer. I gasp and flatten myself across a tomb. Someone’s running toward me, and I’m out here in the darkness all alone. I curse my stupidity. What if it’s the faux frat boy who’s unaccounted for, or the person who murdered Glory?
A moment later, a figure shrouded in darkness bursts into the clearing less than a foot away from me, breathing hard. I scream before realizing that it’s Caleb Shaw—a shirtless Caleb Shaw, with ripped biceps, taut abs, and caramel skin sparkling with moonlit perspiration.
He whirls to face me and pulls out his earbuds. “What are you doing out here?” he demands. “You scared me to death!”
“I scared you?” I manage. Just as quickly, my heart is racing for a different reason entirely.
He wipes his arm across his forehead and then puts his hands on his thighs as he catches his breath. He’s wearing olive-green running shorts, dark gray running shoes, and nothing else. “You shouldn’t be out here, Eveny,” he says. “It’s not safe.”
“Well, what are you doing out here?” I counter.
He looks a little embarrassed. “I like running in the cemetery at night when I can’t sleep,” he says. “My dad’s buried here, so I kind of see it as my time to visit him.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. About your dad, I mean. I didn’t know.”
“I don’t talk about it much.”
I study him for a minute. “How old were you when . . . ?”
“Four,” he says. He wipes the sweat from his brow again, and the moonlight highlights the tendons and muscles in his arm. “Not much older than you were when you lost your mom.” He scratches his head and says, “What are you doing in the cemetery anyways?”
“A favor for Chloe.”
He grimaces. “Zandara?”
“Yeah.”
He gazes at me for a moment but seems to accept this. He leans beside me against the tomb, and suddenly I’m acutely aware of his near-naked body just inches away.
“You shouldn’t be here all by yourself,” he says, and I have the strange feeling that he’s as nervous as I am.
“Nothing happened,” I mumble.
“But it could have.” He shakes his head and changes the subject. “So Peregrine and Chloe have swayed you to the dark side?”
“I don’t know that I’d call it dark, exactly.”
“I’m not sure this qualifies as light either. You’re standing in a cemetery in the middle of the night, all alone.”
“But now you’re here,” I say before I can second-guess myself.
For a moment, we just stare at each other. In the silence, I can hear both of us breathing rapidly.
“So this protector thing,” I say after a minute. “I don’t get it. Before I got back to Carrefour, you weren’t responsible for me?”
“We’re only officially responsible for our queens when they’re inside the gates. But before you got here, it was kind of like sitting around, waiting to be called into active duty in the military. There was always a good chance I’d have to step up.” He half smiles. “You know, the day I heard you and your aunt were returning, I was out on Sailfish. The waves had been epic that day, so I was feeling great. But then I got home, and my mom was crying. She told me you were on your way back to Carrefour, and she kept telling me I had to figure out how to get out of this.”
The words wound me. “I’m sorry. If you know a way out—if there’s any way to get you out of the obligation—” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“No, you don’t understand,” he says. “I didn’t want to do this. Not at first. But it’s in my blood, same as being a queen is in yours. And then I saw you at Glory’s funeral and a day later, I talked to you for the first time.” He shakes his head and says, “When you said, ‘Reading’s cool. . . .’ ”
He trails off, so I say, “You realized I was the biggest dork you’d ever met?”
He laughs. “No. I realized you were different from the rest of this town. You weren’t trying to be anything you weren’t. It was the moment I realized I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I ever let anything happen to you.”
“But you can’t have feelings for me,” I say softly.
“That’s the rule,” he says.
We’re silent for a little while. Finally, I move us into less depressing territory. “So what do you want to do with your life, anyways? I mean, after we graduate next year.”
He looks surprised. “No one in this town talks about life after school. Everyone just . . . stays.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask.
He turns to look at me, and we’re so close that I can feel him breathing. For a moment, all I want him to say is No. You’re what I want. But of course he doesn’t. Instead, he says, “No one’s ever asked me that.” He hesitates. “The truth? I just want to go somewhere else. I want to have a future that hasn’t already been picked out for me. I want to go to college and live in a big city and have a normal life. But I can’t just run from the responsibilities I have here.”
“But you didn’t choose the responsibilities.”
“Neither did you. But here we are.”
“Here we are,” I murmur. And this time when our eyes meet, we look at each other for a long, frozen moment, and then Caleb leans down slowly, very slowly, until his lips brush against mine. He kisses me gently, weaving his hands through my hair as he cradles the back of my head. He tastes like cinnamon.
I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect moment.
But suddenly, he pulls away, and when I blink up at him in confusion, I see pain in his eyes. “What?” I ask, still breathless.
“Shit. I can’t believe I just did that.” He shakes his head. “That can’t happen again. Do you understand?”
Before I have a chance to reply, he’s already running away, back in the direction he came from.
I stand still in the cemetery, touching my lips, my heart hammering, until the sound of his footfalls has faded into the darkness.
22
It takes me until the beginning of fourth period the next day to realize that Caleb isn’t at school, which makes the knots in my stomach twist even tighter. Either he’s off training somewhere with Oscar and Patrick again, or he just doesn’t want to see me. Regardless, I’m reminded just how much my arrival in Carrefour has disrupted his life.
On the way to lunch, Peregrine and Chloe flank me in the hallway. Peregrine’s in thigh-high leopard-print stiletto boots, and Chloe’s wearing elaborately spiky platform heels that add a good six inches to her height. I see Audowido poke his head out of Peregrine’s studded tote bag, and I shiver and inch away from him.
“So?” Peregrine asks in a sour tone. “I suppose you’re off to ask those little peons to join us?”
“Who?” I ask.
“Liv, Max, and Drew.” She makes a face. “After your big speech yesterday, I figured that I was supposed to be more decent, or whatever it was you said. So here I am, acting like a nice person by inviting your grimy friends to eat in the Hickories.”
I try not to show my surprise. Instead, I say evenly, “My friends aren’t grimy.”
“Well,” she says haughtily, “let’s just say I’ve already asked Arelia to dry-clean the cashmere picnic blanket after today’s lunch.”
I just give her a look and she giggles and walks away.
Chloe lingers for a moment longer. “So you did it?” she asks furtively. “The charm? Justin?”
“Yes.”
She looks relieved. “I thought so. Thanks, Eveny. See you in a few!”
Liv, Max, and Drew are all in line for food when I enter the cafeteria a moment later. “Unless you’re dying for congealed mac and cheese,” I say, shooting a glance at the orange globs the caf lady is lobbing onto plates, “you should all come eat with me in the Hickories today.”
The three of them just look at me. “Wait, what?” Drew manages.
“The Hickories,” I repeat. “You can eat up there today, if you want.”
“Us?” Liv asks blankly. “In the Hickories?”
Max lets out an excited whoop and dashes out before I can say anything else. Drew and Liv follow several paces behind, looking stunned.
“You’re sure this isn’t just some trick the Dolls are playing on us?” Drew whispers, hurrying to catch up with me.
“I’m sure. Things are going to be different now,” I tell him.
“Sure they will,” he says under his breath.
Liv hurries to catch up with us too. “Why, exactly, have Peregrine and Chloe deigned to allow us to eat with them?”
“No idea,” I lie. “But Peregrine invited you herself. Anyways, it’s really not a big deal.”
But judging from the horrified expressions on the faces of Margaux and Arelia as we approach, it is, in fact, a big deal.
“What are they doing here?” Margaux demands, not even bothering to address Liv, Max, or Drew directly. Liv and Drew glower at her, while Max walks around, checking out the picnic basket, the china, and the champagne bottles with a huge grin on his face.
“This is amazing!” he declares.
Margaux glares at me. “Well?”
“Peregrine and Chloe are fine with it,” I say.
Margaux opens her mouth to retort, but Peregrine cuts her off. “Seriously, Margaux, give it a rest, and pour me a drink, would you? I’m completely parched.”
Margaux opens her mouth then clamps it shut almost comically. “Just don’t expect me to serve them lunch.”
“They are our guests, Margaux, and you will serve them,” Peregrine snaps.
“But—” Margaux begins. She trails off when Peregrine’s eyes narrow even further. “Fine,” she grumbles. “Champagne?” she asks Liv, Drew, and Max, her voice dripping with bitterness.
The three of them accept and follow me to sit beside Peregrine and Chloe.
“This is, like, the best day of my entire high school career,” Max enthuses once we’ve toasted and taken sips of our bubbly. Arelia and Margaux are both glaring as they prepare a platter of sandwiches for us to share.
“Here,” Margaux barks, shoving the platter so hard at us that a few sandwiches topple over the edge.
Max seems oblivious to their coldness, though, and begins chattering away a mile a minute, asking if they’re going to the Mardi Gras Ball, what they’re wearing, and where they got a cashmere blanket this big. Eventually, Margaux and Arelia seem to warm to him. In fact, they even look vaguely amused.
But though we’re all eating together, Liv and Drew sit on one side of the blanket, staring suspiciously at Peregrine and Chloe, who stare suspiciously back until they’re distracted by the arrival of their guys. Justin immediately drapes himself over Chloe, and they spend the rest of the lunch hour making out. Peregrine, not to be outdone, has charmed a skater named Tyler into fawning all over her today.
“They are so gross,” Liv says. “It’s like watching porn.”
“Uh-huh,” Drew agrees vaguely.
“Hey, hotness.” Pascal interrupts my train of thought as he approaches from the other side of the Hickories. He grins at me lasciviously and then turns to Liv. “I see you’ve brought someone new to lunch. Hey, baby.”
She wrinkles her nose, and I see Drew stiffen beside her.
“She’s with me,” Drew says.
I exchange looks with Liv, who looks thrilled that Drew has come to her defense.
Pascal gazes at him evenly. “And you are . . . ?”
“You know who I am, man,” Drew says stiffly. “We’ve been in school together for years.”
Pascal looks amused. “Well, man, I can’t notice everyone. But this pretty thing, well, with a little makeup and a wardrobe makeover, she’d be damn fine. Just the kind of woman I’d like to get to know in a special way.”
Liv opens her mouth to reply, but Drew beats her to it. “I said, she’s with me.”
Pascal crosses his arms. “I’m sorry. Did you not understand that I don’t give a damn about that?”
Drew glowers back. “Did you not understand that you can’t just take whatever you want?”
Pascal’s eyes flicker for a moment, and then he chuckles. “Dude, you really have no idea. I’ll have her if I want her. And there’s nothing you can do about it.” He calls over to Peregrine, “Hey, who invited this douche up here anyhow?”
“He’s with Eveny!” Peregrine singsongs, breaking away from her make-out session long enough to smirk at me. “I told her it was a bad idea.”
Pascal turns back to me. “Way to go, Eveny. We have a firm no douchebag rule in the Hickories.”
“Then how do you manage to eat lunch here every day?” I ask evenly.
His face darkens for a moment, long enough to make me feel uneasy, but then he laughs. “Touché,” he says. “But seriously, babe. You can’t just let commoners up here.” He turns to Liv and adds, “Although you’re welcome anytime. Preferably with fewer clothes on.”
He shoots Drew a challenging look, but I put a hand on Drew’s chest and say, “Don’t.”
Drew appears to relax after a moment, turning to Liv. “I’ve been meaning to ask you: would you be my date to the Mardi Gras Ball?”
Liv turns pink. Her eyes dart to me for a second and then back to Drew. “For real?” she squeaks.
Drew grins at her. “I’d love to take you.”
“I mean, I guess, yeah, that would be fine.” She’s trying to play it cool, but when her eyes m
eet mine, I can see her fighting a grin.
“Oh, puke,” Pascal says, rolling his eyes. “Eveny, you want to be my date to the ball?”
“Not a chance,” I reply sweetly.
On the walk back to class after lunch, as Drew and Max head toward the north wing of the building, Liv catches up with me, grabs my hand, and asks, “So did you hear Drew ask me to the ball?”
I nod and give her hand a squeeze before letting go. “That’s awesome.”
“You think?” Her brow creases with worry. “What if he was just asking me to piss off Pascal?”
“He wasn’t. He likes you.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“I just am,” I tell her.
She grins. “So how about you? Do you think you’ll go to the dance?”
Caleb flits across my mind, but I dismiss the thought. If I’d had any hope that we could get around the protector rule, it was dashed last night, when Caleb swore me off then literally ran away. “Probably not,” I say.
“You shouldn’t miss out on it,” Liv says. “What if you and Max go together? As friends, I mean.”
“Maybe,” I say. “I’ll probably just skip it.”
Liv looks disappointed but lets it go. “So that was weird today, huh? In the Hickories?”
I laugh. “That’s a pretty normal day up there.”
She wrinkles her nose and shakes her head as the bell rings. “They all creep me out. Those cookie-cutter girls and those guys who don’t seem to think for themselves—”
“So what’s going on with Drew’s band?” I interrupt her brightly.
She stares at me for a minute. “You’re changing the subject.”
“Yeah, you caught that,” I say with a smile.
She laughs. “All right, have it your way.” And as she starts to tell me about a gig they’re trying to book in New Orleans, and a producer who’s expressed some interest in them, I relax into the conversation and appreciate what it’s like to talk to someone whose life isn’t already prewritten.
My cell rings at five thirty that evening, startling me. I’d been poring over my mother’s herb journal, trying to memorize the plants, roots, and potions that seemed most important to her. Lemon for protection. Blackberry to send evil back to enemies who try to inflict it upon you. Wormwood to prevent car accidents. Bayberry for good health. Chia seed to quell gossip.
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