“Because there’s a priest sitting at the table looking at us as if we’re about to sacrifice a virgin,” I answered. “I was just asking.”
“You two are in big trouble,” Helen said.
“We usually are,” Aric said, blasé as he turned back to the refrigerator. “Sausage or bacon, Zoe?”
There was no way I could answer that with a priest present. “Ham.”
“Of course,” Aric muttered, continuing his breakfast item search while I shuffled closer to Father Francis.
“Um … why is there a priest here?” I asked.
“He’s going to conduct the ceremony,” Mom answered.
“We hired a guy to conduct the ceremony,” I replied. “He’s nondenominational.” And wouldn’t accidentally douse us with holy water and try to cast the demon out when no one was looking. What? I’ve seen The Exorcist. That way lies freaky head-spinning threats and projectile vomiting … and no one wants that.
“Father Francis is renowned throughout the state,” Mom explained. “He conducts all the ceremonies for high-profile people in Michigan.”
That sounded absolutely ludicrous. “Aric?”
“We don’t want a priest,” Aric supplied, tipping the bag of hash browns and emptying it into a frying pan. “We’re not Catholic. No offense, Father Francis, but we really don’t want a Catholic ceremony. We plan on going more … bohemian.”
“They mean fruity,” Helen said.
“We mean bohemian,” Aric corrected. “We’re going for a relaxed atmosphere.”
“On that note, I need to run outside and finish that … thing … we were doing yesterday before we got distracted,” Paris said.
It took me a moment to realize what she was referring to. “Oh, right. That … thing.”
“What thing?” Mom asked, obviously missing the point of our subterfuge.
“Just … the thing,” I said. “Go ahead. I don’t blame you for wanting to get out of here right now. I’m pretty sure I don’t want to be here either.”
Paris snorted. “It shouldn’t take long,” she said. “I’ll let you know when I’m done.”
“I’ll go with you,” Kelsey offered, scurrying behind Paris. “Anything is better than watching what’s about to happen.”
She wasn’t wrong. I waited until they were gone before unleashing my annoyance. “Absolutely no offense is intended here, Father Francis, but we’re not doing this,” I said. “We have someone to perform the ceremony. Why would you bring someone else in?”
“We’ve already talked about this, Zoe,” Mom countered. “Your plans didn’t work for the bigger picture. We’ve had to cancel all of your plans.”
I already knew that, but the way she said it made me want to cancel her face. “I can see you guys taking over the cake … and dress … and tuxes … and food … and linens … and tables … and everything else,” I said, my heart rolling as I realized exactly how much control I’d ceded. “I don’t understand this, though. We’re not Catholic. We’re not going to become Catholic. Why would we want a Catholic priest to conduct our ceremony?”
“Because he’s rather a celebrity,” Helen said, shifting in her chair. She was almost giddy. “He conducted a wedding for that woman who is on the soap opera you like. What’s her name?”
I honestly had no idea. I also didn’t care. “I don’t want a celebrity wedding,” I said. “I don’t want a Catholic ceremony. They’re long. They have a lot of bells and whistles we don’t need. They’re … boring. No offense.” I shot Father Francis an apologetic look.
“None taken,” Father Francis said, although his tone didn’t match his tight smile. “If you wish to go to Hell, by all means, you should go another way for your ceremony.”
I narrowed my eyes. This had to be a joke. There could be no other explanation. “I’m pretty sure we’re already in Hell,” I said, jolting when Aric’s hand came down on my shoulder. He was trying to anchor me … or keep me from popping off at the mouth. “We don’t need additional help.”
“Zoe Lake, I did not raise you to be this … obnoxious,” Mom said, taking me by surprise. If she didn’t raise me to be this obnoxious, who did? “You’ll be polite to the father and you’ll agree to him conducting the ceremony. That’s all there is to it.”
My anger built up again, lashing out with enough strength to rock the table, and then died with a whimper rather than a wail. Aric widened his eye, surprised, but didn’t say a word as Mom shot me a glare that would’ve shriveled the courage of a normal person. I wasn’t a normal person.
“What was that?” Father Francis asked, confused as he studied the table. “I … do you have a dog?”
I cast a sidelong look in Aric’s direction. “Kind of.”
I could tell Aric didn’t want to laugh, but he couldn’t help himself. “It’s a handsome dog.”
“Where is it?” Father Francis asked, narrowing his eyes as he glanced around. “Where did it go?”
“Don’t worry about the dog,” I said. “The dog is … not part of this conversation.”
Aric mock barked, causing Father Francis to balk and Mom and Helen to frown.
“We’re not having a Catholic ceremony,” I said, collecting myself. “It’s not going to happen. Thank you so much for coming out, but no matter what our mothers have told you, there is no possible scenario in which your services will be needed.”
“I guess that’s my cue to leave,” Father Francis said, making a move to collect his folder from the table. “If you change your mind … .”
“We prefer living on the edge,” I replied, narrowing my eyes when I saw Paris walking the back edge of the property. She was clearly chanting a spell – which shouldn’t be a problem since Father Francis couldn’t hear it – but she was also casting short spurts of light out of her fingertips. I had no idea she would be juicing the wards with her limited magical mojo. “Um … .”
It was too late. Father Francis turned and stared as Paris continued her rounds. Helen and Mom’s eyes widened to comic proportions while Dad and James returned to sharing the newspaper. Aric appeared as dumbfounded as me.
“What is she doing?” Father Francis asked.
There was no way to explain it, so I decided to go with the easy answer. “Casting out evil.”
“Does this have something to do with the dog?”
Aric barked again, causing me to smirk while Father Francis’ cheeks flushed with color.
“The dog is a good boy,” I said, rubbing the back of Aric’s head and making an exaggerated voice for his benefit. “As for the rest of it … you really don’t want to know.”
“I think you’re right,” Father Francis said, getting to his feet. “Good luck.”
“You, too.”
“I’ll walk you to the door,” Helen offered.
“That won’t be necessary,” Father Francis said, making a face as he scampered off.
When it was just the six of us, I fixed my mother with a pointed glare. “What was that about? You’re not Catholic.”
“We merely wanted you to have a nice wedding,” Mom hedged.
“The perfect wedding,” Helen added.
They were terrible liars. “I see.”
“With that in mind, since you’ve vetoed the priest and gotten your own way, we think it would be smarter to go with a band rather than a disc jockey for the reception,” Mom said.
And there it was. “You did this on purpose,” I seethed. “You knew I would have a bad reaction and you figured if you let me have my way on the priest – who you didn’t really want – I would let you have your way on everything else.”
“That’s a horrible thing to say about your mother,” Mom sniffed, refusing to meet my pointed glare.
“That doesn’t mean it’s not true,” I hissed. “You’ve traumatized that poor man. He thinks there’s a ghost dog running around … and Paris is casting out the Devil … and Aric is obsessed with sausage.”
“Very funny,” Aric said, flicking my ear
before returning to breakfast preparations.
“That’s not our problem,” Mom said. “Pemberley suggested the priest. We didn’t know how to get rid of him without being rude.”
“Luckily for us, you don’t mind being rude,” Helen added. “It worked out well for everyone.”
The sound of pealing tires hit my ears as Father Francis tore out of driveway. “I don’t think it worked out well for the priest.”
“He’ll live,” Mom said. “Now, where did we land on the band?”
14
Fourteen
“I don’t want a band,” I grumbled, making my way out to Paris at the edge of the property. She seemed intent on her task – which I thought she would’ve finished long ago. “I don’t like bands. I’m not doing any of that swing dancing stuff. You’ve been put on notice.”
Aric snorted. “Do I look like a swing dancer?”
I shrugged. “I believe there are times you’ve wanted to swing me around – maybe by my hair – and putting it to music might sound fun to you.”
“You’re mental sometimes,” Aric said. “I don’t particularly want a band either, though, so we’ll argue about that when we get back inside.”
“What are you talking about?” Kelsey asked, barely glancing up as we approached.
“That whole priest thing was a trick because they wanted us to have a band instead of a deejay,” I said.
“Oh. I actually knew that. They’re not very stealthy when they’re plotting. I guess you didn’t get that part of your personality from your mother, Zoe.” Kelsey was fixated on Paris’ hands, which led me to believe my initial assumption was right.
“Is something wrong?” Aric asked, moving closer to Paris. “Why is this taking so long?”
“Because there’s already something here,” Paris replied, splaying her fingers as she moved them around some sort of invisible barrier only she saw. “Someone has already put up wards, but they’re the type that alert when someone leaves, not when someone comes in.”
That was interesting. “How can you tell?”
“I couldn’t at first,” Paris answered. “I thought I felt a … hint … of magic. That’s the best way I can put it. I was going to let it go because I figured it was something you did, but something about it bugged me so I kept digging.”
“And?” Aric prodded.
“And there’s definitely something here,” Paris said. “For the life of me I can’t figure out what, though.”
Aric and I locked gazes for a moment. Aric was the first to take charge. “Stand back, Paris,” he instructed. “Zoe, see if you can feel something.”
I balked. “Why would I be able to feel something? I’m not a witch.”
“That better not have been an insult,” Paris warned.
“It’s not an insult,” I said. “It’s a fact. I don’t sense things like that.”
“That is not true,” Aric argued. “You sense things all the time. You sense danger … wolves … random people wearing knockoff tennis shoes. I think if you try you’ll be able to sense this.”
“But … how?”
“How do you do everything else you do?” Aric challenged. “How have you been showing me memories while we sleep? Heck, you managed to overcome the sleep hurdle and show me things when you were awake in record time. This is no different. I want you to try.”
“Fine,” I muttered, taking a step back and blowing out a sigh. “I need a minute to gather my thoughts.”
“This should be good,” Kelsey muttered. “Wait … what do you mean she’s been showing you memories?”
Aric tossed an apologetic look in my direction. We’d decided to keep that quiet in case it weirded anyone out. “It’s nothing,” he said. “Forget I mentioned it.”
“No way,” Paris said, her dark hair brushing against her shoulders as she shook her head. “How has she been showing you memories?”
“I … crap. I’m sorry, Zoe,” Aric said, tugging a restless hand through his hair. “It first happened when she was sick. I slept next to her on the bathroom floor and we shared a dream. To be more precise, I think she pulled me into her dream.”
“Wow,” Paris intoned, her gaze bouncing between us. “How do you know it was her dream?”
“We compared notes after,” Aric replied. “Also … well … I was seeing things from her point of view. I have a big opinion of myself, but I don’t often think of how hot I am as it would come from her head.”
“That’s kind of neat,” Kelsey said, intrigued. “Has it happened more than once?”
“It’s happened several times. She even managed to send me random memories twice when she was awake,” Aric said. “I think she’s been able to do it for some time – maybe even before she absorbed the book – but her subconscious let it out when her defenses were down when she was sick.”
“That makes sense,” Paris mused, tapping her chin. “Zoe has been afraid of letting her new powers out to play, so she keeps a tight hold on them. It’s only when she’s feeling really emotional or frightened that she lets them out. She was probably worn down when she was sick.”
“Can she see memories from your point of view?” Kelsey asked.
“We’ve tried, but no,” Aric answered. “I wanted to show her some of my favorite memories, but it didn’t work. I’m a little disappointed.”
Paris snorted. “Were you shirtless in them?”
“Focus on the barriers,” Aric instructed. “We’re doing the best we can with the memories. Other than being amusing, though, they’re not dangerous. Her thoughts are dangerous when she sees me naked in some of them, but in a good way. This ward you’re talking about could be something else.”
I reached out with my mind, narrowing my eyes as I felt past the property line. Something was there, but it was invisible. I could push through it. I couldn’t feel form. Still, I knew there was something present.
“Kelsey, try walking over the property line,” I ordered.
Kelsey’s eyes widened as if I asked her to pet an alligator. “Why me?”
“Because you’re not magic,” I answered. “I want to try something.”
“Fine,” Kelsey grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. “If I blow up, though, I’ll never forgive you.”
“Duly noted.”
Kelsey stepped across the barrier and then back again, her eyes filled with unasked questions when she returned.
“There was absolutely no change,” I said. “Paris, you try next.”
Paris saw what I was doing before I had to explain, and did as I asked.
“Nothing again,” I said. “Okay, Aric, now you try.”
When Aric stepped through the barrier there was a brief flare. It was so quick I would’ve thought I imagined it had I not been staring directly at it. “Do it again.”
Aric did it three more times, and each time garnered the same outcome.
“There’s something there that kind of flared when Aric walked through,” I said. “You didn’t feel anything, did you?”
Aric shook his head. “It felt normal,” he said. “We were out here last night. Do you think this was here then?”
“Someone might have erected it because they found out we torched the totem,” I suggested.
“Can you tear it down?” Aric asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t even know what I’m looking at,” I replied. “I can try tearing it down. I want to try one other thing first.”
“What’s that?”
I didn’t answer, instead stepping directly into the spot where the barrier flashed when Aric walked through it. The light hopped – like the glare of the sun off a mirror or other reflective surface – and because I didn’t move from the spot it remained bright so I could study it.
“Are you looking at something?” Paris asked.
“Don’t you see a light?”
“No,” Paris answered.
“I don’t either,” Aric said, staring at the spot where I stared. “Okay, Zoe, that’s enough.”
He held out his hand. “Either destroy it or let it be. Don’t just … stand there.”
“Give me a second,” I said. “I … .” I didn’t get a chance to finish because the light began growing at a fantastic pace, doubling in size each second I remained rooted to my spot. I took an involuntary step back, remaining along the line where the barrier seemed to hit but putting distance between the glow and myself.
“What’s going on?” Aric asked, titling his head to the side. “I … do you hear that?”
His hearing was better than most people boasted because of the wolf in him, but I heard something murmuring. It was almost as if someone was whispering and more voices kept joining the choir.
“Zoe.” Aric extended his hand, and when I didn’t move to take it he took two large steps in my direction. “Zoe!”
He yanked me from my spot at the exact moment the light pulsed … once … twice … three times, and then it flashed out. The pulsing was bright enough that both Paris and Kelsey could register it, although not as easily as I could.
“What the heck was that?” Kelsey asked, flabbergasted.
“I think I overloaded it,” I said, reaching out to touch the spot where the barrier used to be. “It’s not there any longer.”
Aric grabbed both of my arms and shook me – not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make a point. “That could’ve killed you! What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t really thinking,” I admitted. “I didn’t feel danger. You said yourself I know when I’m in danger. I … .”
I didn’t get a chance to finish because Mom, Helen and Pemberley picked that moment to race down the hill that led from the back of the house to the property line.
“What was that?” Pemberley asked, out of breath. “Did someone set something on fire?”
“It’s nothing,” I lied. “We were … messing around with the idea of fireworks.” It was a terrible lie, but I couldn’t come up with another explanation.
“Fireworks are gauche, young lady,” Pemberley snapped, and then he took everyone by surprise when he threw his arms around Aric’s neck. “I’m so glad you didn’t hurt yourself.”
Aric exchanged an incredulous – and hostile – look with me. “I blame you for this.”
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