“Mom said that when you got home, your parents were gone and it looked like someone else had been there?” I asked him softly, not wanting to push but desperately needing to hear it from him.
“Some of the furniture was turned over and there was water boiling on the stove. And there was blood,” he said in a whisper. My heart ached as a tear rolled down his cheek. He was trying so hard to be strong, but he was clearly terrified. He sniffed and then continued. “It wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely blood. Do you think they’re okay, Hadley? I mean, they could still be okay, right?”
I wanted so badly to reassure him, but I had a feeling we both knew the truth. That this could be serious and chances were his parents weren’t okay. But if he needed to hear a lie to get through the next few hours, I was going to give it to him. “I’m sure they’re fine, Peter,” I said, feeling incredibly helpless. “Besides, the rest of the coven is on top of it. If anyone can figure this whole thing out it’s the elders.”
I tried to put all my energy into helping him believe that what I was saying was true, and as my words crossed the web to him, I saw his face relax just a tiny bit. “Thanks, Hadley.”
“No problem, kid. You got someone there with you for the night?”
“My uncle’s on his way over and my neighbors are here now,” he said, looking over his shoulder and offscreen. I could hear another voice but couldn’t make out what the person was saying. When Peter turned back to me, he gave me a little smile. “I gotta go, but thanks for this. I feel a little better now.”
We said our good-byes and I waited until he’d closed the window and signed out to do the same. The stimulation of the past few hours was finally catching up with me and I was suddenly exhausted. Placing my computer beside me, I snuggled deeper into my pillows and closed my eyes as I went over the events of the afternoon.
Nothing like this had ever happened to anyone I knew. Not that I even knew what this was exactly. It was still possible that Peter’s mom had accidentally cut herself while chopping vegetables and his dad had rushed her to the hospital because she needed stitches.
And in their haste to get out of the house, they’d flipped over the furniture. . . .
And didn’t bother calling Peter to tell him where they were. . . .
And still weren’t back yet.
I know. Even I didn’t believe it.
But what was the alternative? That something bad had happened to Peter’s parents? That maybe we weren’t as safe in our own homes as we thought? That despite their magical abilities, Peter’s parents hadn’t been able to defend themselves against whoever had been waiting for them?
I opened my eyes and looked over at my door, which was still cracked open from when I’d come in earlier. “Noxum clasitor,” I said with a wave of my finger. Within seconds, the door had closed and locked from the inside.
Just in case.
The sound of my cell playing “Defying Gravity,” from my favorite Broadway show, Wicked, interrupted the dream I’d been having. I was confused at first, and glanced down at myself to see that I was still wearing my clothes from the night before. I jolted out of bed and looked frantically around my room. If anyone had been in here with me, they would’ve been able to hear my heart pounding in my chest, it was beating so hard. But after a thorough inspection of every corner of my room, I collapsed back onto my pillows.
I was alone.
I reached over and hit the snooze button on my phone. My alarm meant that it was 6:30 a.m. and that my mom would likely be pounding on my door any minute to make sure I was up for school. Before she could give me a second wake-up call, I rolled out of bed and padded into the adjoining bathroom to brush my teeth as I waited for the water in the shower to warm up. I turned on the radio before jumping in and allowed myself to sing along to one of Ke$ha’s songs, even though I wouldn’t be caught dead doing so in public.
I had a reputation to maintain, after all. And singing was one of the few things I wasn’t good at.
An hour later, I unlocked my bedroom door and peeked my head out, listening for the familiar sounds of my mom getting ready for work. I was met with silence, but headed down the hall anyway, glancing in her room along the way.
Empty.
The bed was made, which wasn’t unusual, since she always made the bed as soon as she got out of it. This didn’t mean that it had been slept in, though. My suspicions grew as I entered the deserted kitchen. One look at the cold coffeepot told me with certainty that she hadn’t been home the night before.
I opened up my mind fully, attempting to channel my mom, but I was getting nothing. Then I tried her cell. It rang, and when her recording picked up, I left a message asking her to call me as soon as possible.
My chest grew tight with nerves. Was she okay? Did something happen? Should I call the cops and tell them that my mother, who was a grown adult, hadn’t been there when I’d woken up this morning and hadn’t checked in yet? If I did that, I was pretty sure they wouldn’t take me too seriously. But there was someone who wouldn’t think I was silly.
I keyed in my dad’s speed dial and brought the cell up to my ear. I stood at the counter and stared out the window into the backyard as the phone rang and rang. Four times, then six. On the eighth ring, Dad’s voice mail clicked on and he was telling me to leave a message.
“Hey, Dad, it’s Had. I was just calling because I was wondering if you’d heard from Mom? Something happened at the Glovers’ last night and I don’t think she came home,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. No need to get hysterical. Yet anyway. “Um, I was just kind of worried. I’m going to try her on her cell again, but can you call me back when you get this? Thanks, Daddy. Love you.”
I hung up and swallowed the lump in my throat. Then, to head off my hysteria, I busied myself with making breakfast, trying to appreciate the comfort that my morning routine brought me. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and then flipped on the TV, expecting my friends from the Today show to give me a distraction.
Instead, I saw something I wasn’t expecting. My hand stopped halfway to my mouth as I realized what I was watching on the screen in front of me.
“This quiet neighborhood was shocked and saddened yesterday when it was discovered that a young couple had disappeared from their home in what appears to be a violent kidnapping,” the newscaster said solemnly. It felt like she was talking to me, her eyes boring into mine.
Please don’t be talking about what I think you’re talking about.
“Those close to Mr. and Mrs. Glover say the couple is friendly and outgoing, and can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt them,” the anchorwoman continued. “The couple has an eleven-year-old son who is beside himself with worry and grief and just wants his parents back safe and sound. If you know anything on the whereabouts of the missing Glenndale couple, please contact the number at the bottom of your screen.”
I dropped my spoon back into the bowl. I was finished eating. My stomach felt sick as the newscaster talked about the family I knew so well. Something about it being covered on television made it that much more real. And it meant that the coven hadn’t learned anything during their meeting.
That at least made me feel the tiniest bit better, because now I knew why my mom hadn’t come home. She and the rest of the Cleri were probably still working on the mystery behind the Glovers’ disappearance. That had to be where she was.
Suddenly, for the first time since I’d heard the news, I felt a wave of relief rush through me. Finally I could get on with my day without worrying. Good thing, too, because I had a quiz in science that morning and hadn’t studied for it.
And somehow I knew that the excuse of “Members of my coven were kidnapped last night and we’re waiting for the ransom—so I didn’t have time to go over the chapter” wouldn’t garner me much sympathy. In fact, it might actually get me a one-way ticket to the insane asylum. And maybe Kate Moss could pull off the straitjacket look, but I knew I couldn’t. Unless it’s custom-made in r
ed.
I grabbed my bag and car keys off the counter and rushed out the door, determined to make it to school with enough time to cram in a study session before the first-period bell rang. As the car warmed up, I texted Sofia to bring my coffee straight to the library. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
By the time I’d made it through my first few classes, I’d pretty much forgotten all about what was going on at home. My science quiz had kept my mind locked on something other than the fate of the Glovers. School always had a way of doing that to me. It was the one place where I felt 100 percent in control of things. As class president, I made decisions based on what would be best for my classmates. I told everyone what to vote for and what they should care about, and I set the standards of what a good role model should be. When people went against my wishes, like by bullying other students or not holding up their side of a group project, I persuaded them to see the errors of their ways.
With magic, of course.
This was when I was at my best, you could say. And I reveled in my role. Especially when life got crazy like today, and I was able to get lost in my duties. Like, for instance, I’d already handled an issue that had come up regarding where the homecoming dance would be held as well as diffused a meltdown that Trish was having over a freshman girl who was wearing the same outfit as her to school that day yet refused to change into her gym clothes to rectify the problem. And this was all before lunch.
It was a great escape for me.
At least it was before something brought me crashing back to reality.
“Did you hear about those people who went missing a few towns over?” Bethany asked as we sat down at a table outside in the quad. It was lunchtime and I was famished on account of not having finished my breakfast and going to sleep without eating dinner the night before. I’d just settled down to a chopped salad, loaded to the lid with veggies and protein. However, given the topic change, I was afraid I was about to lose my appetite again. I forced myself to take a bite because I knew I wouldn’t have enough energy to make it through the day if I didn’t get something in my stomach.
Besides, it would totally mess up my metabolism if I started skipping meals on a regular basis, and that would just make me even more stressed out. And no one likes a stress pooch.
“My mom is freaking out over it, and she’s forced the family into lockdown for the foreseeable future,” Bethany continued, rolling her eyes. “I reminded her that if the kidnappers were looking for targets who they could get big ransoms for, it wouldn’t be us. She didn’t find that very funny.”
Oh, geez.
“So, on account of the fact that my mom has clearly gone insane, I can’t make it to our weekly today,” she finished, looking more bummed than apologetic. Bethany was talking about our regular excursion to the nail salon—and knowing how she felt about gossip, I knew it was killing her to opt out of a prime opportunity to gab. She’d probably begged and pleaded with her mom to change her mind to no avail.
Watching her try to choke out the words, I decided to put her out of her misery. “It’s no biggie, B. I was gonna cancel this week, anyway. I’ve got some stuff I have to take care of at home. I have cookies to bake, reading to do . . .”
And moms to track down.
I still hadn’t heard from Mom, but she knew about the “no phone calls at school” policy and insisted on following the rules. The sooner I found out she was okay, the sooner I could get on with my regularly scheduled life.
“Guess we’ll all wait until next week, then?” Trish asked, not bothering to acknowledge the fact that Sofia hadn’t canceled. But if her feelings were hurt, Sof didn’t show it.
Bethany looked relieved to hear that she wouldn’t be missing out on the dish after all. She smiled at me and I returned the gesture, happy she was happy, but wishing I felt the same.
Chapter Six
Mom wasn’t at home waiting for me when I got there and she still wasn’t answering her cell. She hadn’t shown up by the time I started dinner, but I cooked for the both of us anyway, and eventually sat down to eat by myself. Desperately needing a distraction, I flipped through the channels until I found a movie starring one of those goofy guys from Superbad and forced myself to watch it. Ever try watching a comedy when you’re just not in the mood to laugh? Apparently, it has the opposite effect, or so I found out when I started to feel even more on edge than I’d been before.
Putting the leftovers in the fridge for Mom, I practically jumped out of my skin when my phone went off. My heart hammering in my chest, I flipped open my phone without even looking at the caller ID.
“Mom?” I asked. I hadn’t intended for my voice to sound so hopeful, but I couldn’t help it.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t her on the other end.
“Hadley?” It took me a few seconds to place the voice.
“Jinx?”
“Yeah,” she said meekly. I could feel the fear coming through the phone as clearly as if she’d expressed it out loud. It was more than just the hesitation in her voice, though. Right now it was as if I was feeling what she was feeling. And her emotions were overwhelming. For a second, this threw me off, because for as long as I’d known Jinx, she’d always been in control. She was never over-the-top; she was even-keeled. Calm and collected. Prim and proper, without being a total Stepford. Her easygoing attitude made it so that she got along with pretty much everyone. There wasn’t a person who didn’t like her—including me. So the fact that she was now acting a little unhinged set off alarms in my head.
“What’s wrong, Jinx?” I asked.
“Have you seen my parents? They left last night—said they were going to meet your mom and the rest of the Cleri for something—and, well, see . . .”
Her voice trailed off and I was left waiting on the line for a few seconds. I wanted to tell her to spit it out, but forced myself to take a deep breath before talking. “What happened, Jinx?”
“They never came home,” she finally said. And with those words, my heart sank. It wasn’t just my mom. “I tried calling Jackson first, but couldn’t get ahold of him. So I thought maybe you’d heard from your mom and knew where they were? That you could tell me that they’re okay? Are you still there?”
I’d only had a few conversations with Jinx before, and none of them had been outside of witch classes, yet here she was asking me to give her answers. Sure, I’d been the second person she’d contacted, but she obviously thought I could help. And I wanted so badly to do that.
After all, she’d always been kind to me—on the rare occasions that we’d said more than a few words to each other, at least. And despite the fact that Jinx had experienced a much more luxurious upbringing than I had, she’d never treated me or anyone else like we were below her. We might’ve even been friends if we’d gone to the same school and I’d been able to devote the kind of time that went into a friendship.
I wished I could shed some light on the situation that was clearly stressing her out. Unfortunately, I was just as in the dark as she was.
I must have gone momentarily catatonic because Jinx had to say my name a few more times before I responded.
“I’m here,” I said finally. “I’m sorry, Jinx. The truth is, I haven’t heard from my mom since last night either.”
The line buzzed with white noise as neither of us said what we were both thinking. So I broke the silence. “Listen, I’m going to give the others a call and see if anyone else has heard from our parents, and then I’ll call you back, okay?”
I knew this wasn’t what Jinx wanted to hear, but the wheels in my head were already spinning and I didn’t have time to console her. I had to find out what was going on. Still, I felt bad about leaving her feeling so helpless.
“We’re going to figure this out. I promise,” I said before hanging up and heading to my room to find the others’ numbers.
First I called Sascha. And then Jasmine. When I’d gone through my entire witchy address book, I finally dialed Fallon’s number, not e
ven bothering with pleasantries. As I hung up, I collapsed back onto my bed, eyes wide and feeling eerily numb. If I hadn’t been positive that I was awake, I would’ve thought I was having a nightmare. But there was no doubt this was really happening.
No one had heard from any of our parents in over a day, and the sinking feeling was steadily growing in the pit of my stomach.
I stared up at the ceiling, noticing for the first time that there was a discoloration right above my head in the shape of a turkey. Like the kind of turkey you made in first grade by outlining your hand. How had I never noticed that before?
I blinked. I had to snap out of it.
Picking up the phone again, I dialed the only number I hadn’t called yet. And I didn’t have to wait long for someone to answer.
“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Peter said before I could even say hello.
“Something’s definitely going on,” I answered, unwilling to confirm what I thought he was saying. Before I went overboard with conspiracy theories, I had to assess things for myself. And Peter might be the only one who had the clues I needed. “The Cleri held an emergency meeting last night. You know anything about it?”
“Your mom was over here for a little bit with a few of the others, and they were talking about getting the group together. They thought I wasn’t listening, but I was,” he said, sounding slightly guilty.
“That’s great, Peter,” I said, encouragingly. “Did you hear where they were going?”
My pulse was racing. If Peter didn’t know this, we really had no leads. And my fear was that time was already running out for our parents.
“They said something about trees or bushes,” he said.
“They met in a park?” I asked, confused.
“No, it was like a type of tree, I think,” he said slowly. “Name some trees and maybe something will sound familiar.”
Life's a Witch Page 6