“Jayden is safer not being around you right now.”
Pain knifed through me. I bit the inside of my cheek, hoping the sharp pain of it would numb the inner pain I felt from the blow of Roman’s words. Of course he was right. That’s what hurt the most. I almost let Jayden drown. What did I think I was going to do now that a bunch of covens were trying to find and kill me? And on top of that, I was turning into something I totally wasn’t prepared for. “You’re right. When do we leave?” I resigned myself.
“First we have to find the dagger.”
I squinted up at him through the sunlight. “What? Wait. What dagger?”
“Your quickening dagger. Your family must have it. On the night of your birthday when you go through your quickening, you’ll need it. The head witch of your coven, called the witch queen, will quicken you with it. You need the dagger to complete the transformation.” He paused before adding, “Of course, after your quickening, you’ll be the queen.”
“What if I don’t want to be?” I asked. I thought for a minute that maybe I could just run away. If I needed the dagger to complete the process, then it must have meant I had a choice. I kicked the ground. “Maybe I don’t want to become the Spectral.” I realized I probably seemed immature, but at that moment, I honestly didn’t care. It’s not like I was signing up to be a Girl Scout leader. Becoming the Spectral and freaking witch queen was totally out there—like Star Trek out there.
Roman groaned. “Then you will become very sick and probably die and you will bring shame on your coven for failing. You can’t fight fate, Jewel. You are what you are.”
“Ugh. Now you’re guilt tripping me?” I shook my head.
“Sorry, but it’s true, True.” He reached over and tickled me as we continued walking.
I couldn’t help but laugh in spite of it all. “That’s Jewel to you, Mr. Matteo. Hey, there was a picture of a girl in an Ancient Witchcraft book I found. She held a golden dagger with a snake wrapped around the handle pointed up to the sky as a lightning bolt struck it. I thought it was kinda cliché. Still…it freaked me out.”
Roman quirked a brow. “Ancient Witchcraft book? You need to let me take a look at that. Actually, it’s probably better you let me have it for now.”
“Sure.” I really didn’t care about the darn book at that point. I just wanted to be safe.
I took my shoes off when we reached the sand, letting it slide between my toes. Soft subtle waves lapped against the shore in the distance. A roar of a small plane flew by overhead trailing an advertising banner. I couldn’t help but think how wasted it was on the vacant beach.
“I don’t think my parents have a dagger. I’ve never seen anything like what I saw in the picture, and I definitely don’t have a freaking clue where to start looking,” I said, and then I remembered the locked door my parents had at every house in the past. I made a mental note to check if they had one at our current house.
Roman tugged me forward again, back in the direction of the car. “Your parents have been hiding a lot from you. I’m not surprised you haven’t seen it. But it’s gotta be somewhere close. And don’t worry, there’s no lightning required,” Roman said with a wry grin. “Just you and the dagger.”
Chapter Twelve
After dinner that night, I took advantage of my family being distracted with playing poker. It felt good that I’d gotten away earlier that day without them having a clue about it. Even though the things I was finding out scared the heck out of me, I had a sense of freedom that I’d never known before.
Deciding to look for the ominous locked door, I tried to remember all the different places we lived and the few times I’d come upon doors with deadbolts. When I was little, I asked my dad what was inside one of them. “Firecrackers for the Fourth of July,” he’d told me. I had been so excited at the time thinking how awesome it would be. Come to think of it, we never did let off any firecrackers.
That particular dead-bolted door was in my parents’ room, so I excused myself from the kitchen, and headed upstairs and scooted into their bedroom. Quivering at the thought of being caught poking around, I clenched my hands and willed my legs forward. The queen size bed beneath the front window was neatly made. Its purple comforter clashed with the sunflower yellow walls, and beneath me green shag carpet surrounded my feet like an uncut lawn. I shuddered. Whoever decorated this house must have been seriously blind.
My uncle’s laughter trailed over the stairs, and I took a cleansing breath to calm my nerves. I dropped to my knees beside the bed, looking under, going for the first place I could think of that somebody might hide something. Nothing. Too obvious. I sat up and leaned my elbows on the bed taking surveillance of the room. Mom and Dad’s closet door wasn’t locked. It was even slightly ajar. I took a closer look, pulling the door open slowly.
It was quite a big walk-in closet, but Mom and Dad didn’t have many clothes so the racks were mostly empty. We moved too often for them to collect much. We often had to escape so quickly we had to leave everything behind. My throat tightened with guilt. Now that I knew they were going through all of this because of me, I saw everything in a different light. My parents had given up a lot because of me. I always blamed them for my misery. Now I knew the truth. Not only was Jayden better off without me, but so was the rest of my family. That realization stung like a hundred bee stings.
I need to find that dagger! The sooner I did, the more quickly I could leave, and they would all be better off. Running my hands across the hanging clothes, I inched further toward the back of the closet. I reached behind the garments searching for a locked door, a hidden attic, anything…but found nothing. Frustrated, I plunked to the floor behind a couple of long hanging winter coats.
My hip hit something sharp and I yelped. Clasping my hand over my mouth, I waited for the awful moment where I’d be discovered, trying to think of some excuse for snooping in their closet. Luckily, the roars of laughter from my dad and uncle still rumbled over the stairs.
I twisted around to see the culprit and found an old, army green, metal box about two feet long. I ran my hand along its cool, rough edges a second before opening it.
Inside was a stack of pictures, a key, and some white, silky material. I ran my fingers along the delicate fabric, unfolded it carefully, and held it up. My eyes drifted down admiringly as the piece of clothing spread out against my knees. It looked like a baby’s baptismal gown. The sleeveless dress was trimmed at the edges with lace. The neck was rounded, trimmed with pearls, with matching rows of pearls attached to a satin sashay that hung from the brocaded waist.
I refolded the gown, following the deeply etched wrinkles left in it from having been in the same position for so long.
Clutching the small silver key, I wondered if it could be the key for the locked door—wherever that was. Laying the key back down, I figured it could take me awhile to find the door, and I could come back for the key then. I couldn’t take the chance of my parents noticing it missing in the meantime.
Picking up the stack of pictures, I flipped through them one by one. There was one of Jayden hanging from a large branch of a tree. He had his typical super-sized grin. “Monkey,” I murmured with a muted chuckle.
Another was of Grandma Raine holding me on her knee. I looked about six. Grandma looked so much younger in the picture. Her short chestnut hair framed her face like the color of leaves in autumn.
I flipped through the pictures quickly until I came upon one that I’d not seen before. I didn’t remember it being taken either. In the picture my mom sat next to another woman holding a baby. The woman touched the baby’s cheek, and Mom reached across, holding the baby’s hand. I recognized the dress the baby wore as the baptismal gown from the box.
It must have been me. If it were Jayden, I’d remember being there, and I’d remember the beautiful woman holding him. The woman’s hair was quite a contrast to Mom’s fox-red. Her wavy hair was long, and the color of a raven’s wings. The woman’s blue-gray eyes sparkled like
the ocean. I gasped. She looks like an older version of me.
And then I saw it. A red birthmark on the baby’s right shoulder. It is me! Come to think of it, I’d not seen any baby photos of myself before. I searched my mind for any memory of the woman holding me in the photo, but couldn’t come up with anything. I figured she must be a part of my coven…one of the many witches anxious to have me back. Was she our coven’s witch queen?
I turned the photo over to look at the back. It read: My best friend Karina, my daughter Jewel and I, pre-ceremony.
Wait a second. A wave of nausea swept over me. My stomach twisted and then knotted. Karina was my mom’s name. But the way the photo read made it seem as though the other woman wrote it—the one that looked like me—and she was referring to me as her daughter. My heart rate skyrocketed. I gripped my hand over my chest, bunching my shirt together and gasping for air.
I heard a squeak at the closet door, and I stiffened involuntarily. I quickly shoved my baby picture down my top. It was a risk taking it, but I had to show the picture to Roman. Maybe he knew who the woman was.
I held my breath, slinking against the wall, praying not to be discovered. My heart thumped in my ears. There was movement in the closet, and then something moved at my ankles, tickling my bare feet. Glancing down, I saw it was Willow and her massive mop of fur.
Releasing a long breath, I closed the metal box, scooped Willow into my arms, and kissed her furry head. “Oh Willow, you scared the snot out of me,” I whispered. I sunk my face into the mounds of fur on her back, stumbled out of the closet, heart hammering…and bumped into someone.
“Darling, what are you doing in here?” Grandma asked.
I gulped, looking up into her puzzled face. Willow meowed loudly and jumped down.
“Um, chasing Willow,” I said, thinking fast on my feet. I forced a goofy look onto my face, hoping to appear innocent.
Grandma smiled and stepped aside as I walked past her, following Willow’s bouncing steps. As I was about to walk through the doorway, I glanced back at the only grandmother I’d known since birth. The one who comforted me when I was worried, the one who was always so kind, and the one I’d grown to love. Now I didn’t know if she was even my real grandmother. My legs felt like wet noodles, but I managed a quick wave before running to the bathroom and upchucking dinner.
***
I didn’t get a chance to look around anymore for the dagger. My house was like Fort Knox on lockdown, and after Grandma spotted me in my parents’ closet, I thought I should lay low for the night. Besides, the fact of not knowing where I belonged in the universe played over and over in my brain like a hamster on a wheel. The faster it churned, the faster it got nowhere. Finally, I’d put my ear buds in and blasted out some Avril Lavigne while rocking myself to sleep.
The next morning, Aunt Eva’s red painted nails tapped a rhythmic beat against the steering wheel of the car, her olive green eyes focused straight ahead, deep in thought.
Once when I was little, and she’d come to visit, I’d found her stash of nail polish. I’d chosen a different color for each finger, creating a rainbow effect of glittering color. When Aunt Eva found me, you could have sworn I’d thrown her clothes in the toilet by the way she reacted. She had plunked me on the bathroom counter, and scrubbed at my fingertips with nail polish remover so fiercely I thought my fingers would bleed. She’d waggled her finger in front of my nose, and told me only naughty girls touched other people’s things, and that I was a very naughty girl.
If the picture I found was right, and the dark-haired woman was my real mother, then Aunt Eva was in on something naughty herself. I figured my birth mom died and I was adopted by her best friend, Karina, which, I reasoned, at the age of sixteen I had the right to know; or I was kidnapped by Karina—by them—the whole lot of them. A lump grew in my throat. Either way, it wasn’t good for me.
When we arrived at school, I nodded once over my shoulder to Aunt Eva as I stepped outside. It was downright claustrophobic in that car and I was glad to get out. It was a warm day, and as I walked toward the school, I thought Sunny Shades Heights wasn’t such a bad name for the school after all. Ginormous willow trees draped the school like a cocoon, their leaves spinning in the spring breeze. But as beautiful as it was, I couldn’t cheer up. Glancing around, I saw Roman leaning against one of the trees, checking me out. I quickly peeked over my shoulder to make sure Aunt Eva was gone before waving at him enthusiastically and heading in his direction. I tipped a finger incognito style down my bra until I felt the edge of the photo, anxious to show Roman what I’d found. That, and to give him the Ancient Witchcraft book I carried in my bag.
His grin grew bigger the closer I got to him, but before I had the chance to reach him, Taylor cut me off, jumping in front of me. “Hey, girl. What’s up?” Her voice seemed to catch at the last word and when I looked at her, I noticed her eyes were red.
I touched her arm. “Hey, Tay. You okay?”
She ruffled her hair that was a little messier than usual, and then sighed. “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”
Now she was speaking my language. I knew all about sleep troubles. “Bad dreams or something?” I asked, hooking my arm through hers and walking toward the entranceway. I looked over at Roman and he raised his hands palm up, giving me a ‘what gives?’ look. I shrugged, mouthing the word, “Sorry!”
“No, not bad dreams,” Taylor bit her lip. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Me? Keep a secret? Does a leopard have spots?” I asked and then grinned. I was the queen of secrets. No brainer. “Sure.”
“My parents have been fighting a lot lately.”
To me, parents’ fighting was minor, like normal people stuff. But I knew that what was normal for me would be off the Richter scale for most people. I had bigger issues on my mind, but I cared about Taylor and she seemed genuinely upset.
I squeezed her arm, pulling her to my side a moment so we bumped shoulders. “I’m sorry. Anything serious?”
“If my dad moving out yesterday counts as serious, then yeah,” she said. “Can you come over after school, maybe? My mom won’t be home ‘til like nine or so, and I thought we could hang out. I dunno, watch a movie or something?” She unhooked her arm from mine and pulled open the school door. “I don’t really want to be alone.”
I knew I had to get home to look for the dagger. I dragged in a breath and started to shake my head no. “Oh, please, True? I promise I won’t be a drag.”
“It’s not that…” Taylor stuck out her lip like an adorable puppy dog, and I relented with a sigh. “Okay, but just for a little while.”
“Awesome!”
I walked inside and waved at Jack who was coming toward us. Turning back to Taylor, I smiled. “I just have to call my aunt—I mean my mom—and let her know.”
Taylor chuckled. “You mean your Aunt Cujo? Rrrrufff!”
“Hey, my aunt could take that mutt any day,” I joked, happy to see her smiling again.
I headed to my locker after Jack caught up with Taylor. He patted her back and she snuggled into him, whispering into his ear. They were so cute together. I couldn’t help but compare them to me and Roman. As if my life wasn’t complicated enough, I had to like some Augusti guy who was forbidden to be with me. Any way you looked at it, my whole life was like a curse. A black shroud of doom. I chewed a strand of my hair. Maybe it’s my destiny to be miserable.
As I got closer to my locker, I noticed a crowd had gathered around. Loud chatter filled the hallway, but when the crowd saw me, they hushed and stared. Olivia snickered and Amy plugged her nose. I glanced behind me, hoping something other than me was the target of their wrath this time. But there was only a kid who slouched over at the water fountain, slurping away. It was definitely me.
What now? I tugged at my shirt nervously, looking to the floor but kept moving forward. I refused to let them intimidate me. Or at least show them they did.
The bell rang and the chatter began again. The crow
d separated, heading off to class. I lifted my eyes off the floor, hurrying the rest of the way to my locker. And then I knew what the buzz was all about.
Written in bold letters on my locker in cherry red lipstick was one word: FREAK.
Chapter Thirteen
I kept my head down through Calculus, only looking up when Roman sauntered into class late, apologizing to the teacher. He sat three rows across from me, and cast a fleeting sympathetic smile toward me.
Great. He probably saw the word on my locker, and now he pitied me. I didn’t want pity. I just wanted peace. Peace to be me, whoever me was. I really didn’t get why Olivia hated me so much. She didn’t even know me.
Since I didn’t get a chance to wipe off the grime left on my locker, I decided to send Taylor a text during class to let her know what was up. I typed: Miss Perfect left a nasty message on my locker. :S
I watched as Taylor, who sat two seats in front of me, pulled out her phone and copped a peek. She shook her head in what I took to be disgust, checked out the teacher to make sure he wasn’t looking, and typed into her phone. A second later my phone vibrated and I flipped it open: Gurlz got issues. Be-atch.
I giggled under my breath. It was great having a friend like Taylor—even better that she was Aunt Eva approved. The lunch bell rang and Taylor and I scooted out to my locker, while I filled her in on what had happened.
“Last year it was another chick that she picked on,” Taylor rolled her eyes. “She moved so I guess you’re the replacement.”
“Lucky me.”
We rounded the corner, facing row after row of the gray steel metal, no lipstick marks in sight. “True, your locker is fine,” Taylor said, inching her head back.
Shocked, I walked over, sliding my hand over the spot where the word ‘freak’ had been. “You think the jannie cleaned it?”
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