by Karen Fuller
“You’re going to have to tell me what exactly you saw that’s bothering you.”
She picked at her cuticles. “I was with that group in the parking lot. I saw you use your magic on Chuck.”
Vicky closed her eyes and counted slowly until she calmed down. Opening her eyes, she tried to reach Rachael’s hand and she moved it away. “Rachael, I was just trying to stop a fight. I wouldn’t have hurt Chuck. I wouldn’t do that. You do believe me, don’t you?”
She timidly shrugged her shoulder, refusing to meet Vicky’s eyes.
Vicky crossed her arms while she tried to think of a way to get through to Rachael. “I told you yesterday that I was a witch and that I want to be your friend.”
Rachael nodded sadly. “You don’t believe that I want to be your friend?”
No response.
Vicky placed her hand on Rachael’s shoulder aghast when the girl cringed away.
Pulling her hand back, she sighed. “Is that it? Is this cold shoulder due to what happened in the parking lot this morning?”
Rachael shook her head and sniffed. “No.”
Vicky sat back in her chair. “Then something else happened to upset you.
What?”
Rachael looked up, tears pooling on her bottom lashes, threatening to spill. Her beautiful blue eyes reflected pure misery. “You told me that you were going to get even with Sara for what she did to me.” She reached up, pulling on a few strands of her lush auburn hair for Vicky to see. “It took me almost a year to get all my hair back. No one at this school will talk to me because of her.” She blinked and the tears fell down her cheeks. “I saw you. You treated her like a friend, even after what she’s done to me.” She buried her face on her arm. “I thought for once, I was truly going to have a friend in this godforsaken place. I couldn’t believe that you could betray me almost as quickly as you made the promise.”
Compassion gripped Vicky’s heart. An overwhelming need to cry swept over her. “I’m truly sorry. I know it must have seemed that way to you, but believe me, Sara is not my friend.”
Rachael wiped the tears from her eyes and frowned. “I saw you wave her away from picking up that pen.”
Vicky sat up straight, frowning back in alarm. “How do you know about the pen?”
Rachael sniffed. “When no one talks to you, you have a lot of time to yourself. I have learned to see everything and I saw those spiders coming out of that pen. I can’t believe you stopped her from picking it up. She deserved to get bit. She’s probably the one who cursed it in the first place.”
“Luke thinks so too.” She shook her head. “But honestly, Rachael, I’m not so sure.”
“Don’t fool yourself,” Rachael said, glaring. “Sara will stab you in the back if you don’t watch her.”
“I didn’t get a chance to talk to you yesterday, after lunch.” She scooted her chair closer and lowered her voice. “I was on my way to my next class when Sara grabbed me from behind and yanked me into the girl’s bathroom. I hit the back of my head pretty hard when she shoved me against the wall.” Rachael’s eyes grew very wide as Vicky rubbed the lump on the back of her head. “She thought she could intimidate me. I proved to her that she couldn’t.” She laughed softly. “I popped a few light bulbs, made the floor shake, and rattled a few of the metal stall doors. I threatened her and told her if she didn’t leave me and everyone else in the school alone, she would have to deal with me. I left her in the bathroom cowering in the corner.”
A ghost of a smile lit Rachael’s face. “I would have loved to have seen that.” “I’m not proud of what I did. I wasn’t raised that way.”
Rachael shifted uneasily in her chair. “I wasn’t either, but after what she put me through . . .”
Vicky gave her a sad smile. “Believe me, I do understand. Sara can be pretty mean and vindictive. She put you through hell. I had my own bit of trouble last night, and I was furiously tempted to put all the blame on Sara.” She placed her hand on Rachael’s shoulder. “She seemed the likely culprit, but I don’t want to do anything unless I’m sure, although it was very tempting.”
Rachael gave her a look of concern. “What happened last night?”
Vicky looked around to make sure no one was listening, and dropped her voice to barely a whisper. “Someone tipped off a vigilante group that I was a witch. They kidnapped me and tried to burn me at the stake.” Rachael’s mouth dropped open as Vicky continued, “Luke and his family rescued me. I wanted to immediately blame Sara, but she seems like the type of person who would brag about what she did, just to hold it over your head to see you squirm. When I saw her this morning, she didn’t seem surprised to see me—she seemed to fear me.” She shook her head. “I just don’t know.”
Rachael nodded at her statement. “You’re right. I’ve heard her brag about what she does to people. As much as I hate to say it, if she were responsible, she would be rubbing your face in it.”
Vicky's shoulders slumped. “I’m at a loss. I desperately need to find out who’s after me. At least now I know she, or he, is a witch. That cursed pen was a sure sign.”
Rachael’s eye lit up. “Not necessarily.” She shrugged. “There’s an occult store tucked away in the back of the only book store in town. This place is full of witches.
That’s where they buy the things they need to conjure spells and stuff. Someone may have purchased a cursed object from them. They probably told the shop owner that it was for a practical joke or something.”
Vicky tapped her index finger on her chin. “You might have something there.
Maybe I’ll get Luke to help me check it out.”
“Vicky Phillips!” Father Turner snapped. Vicky closed her eyes, slumping down in her chair. “Although it is nice to see that Rachael finally has a friend to talk to, you both are disrupting my class! Is another trip to see Father Thomas in order for this afternoon?”
“N-no, Father Turner.” She looked down at her desk, swallowing hard. “I’ll stop talking.”
He glared icily. “This is your final warning for today.”
“Yes, thank you, Father.”
Chapter Nine
The bell ending third period rang. Vicky grabbed her bag, scooping up her notebook and placing it inside. She stood briefly by her chair. “Rachael, I’m supposed to be meeting Luke for lunch. Why don’t you join us?”
“I don’t want to intrude .”
“Hang on a second,” Vicky stalled her, staring off into space. Rachael looked at her strangely. Luke ,are you listening?
Yeah, where are you?
I haven’t left third period yet. I invited Rachael to eat with us, but she doesn’t want to intrude.
Bring her with you.
We’ll see you in a few minutes.
Vicky turned her attention back on Rachael, catching her staring.
“Do you do that much?”
Vicky lifted an eyebrow, shifting her bag to her other shoulder. “Do what?”
“Space out like that.”
“Oh, that. I didn’t space out. I was talking to Luke.”
Rachael frowned. “Luke’s not here. Do you need to sit down or something?”
Vicky laughed at Rachael’s confusion. “I’m not crazy. I know Luke’s not here.
He’s a telepath. He can read my thoughts, and I can hear him speaking to me.” Rachael pursed her lips. “No, really, it’s true. Do you remember when I got in trouble this morning?” At Rachel’s nod, she continued. “Luke had just spoken to me for the first time, and I was shocked. Father Turner thought I was acting out. I was rolling my eyes at Luke’s comment, not Father.” She shifted her bag to her other shoulder. “Anyway, I was asking Luke if he minded if you joined us. He wants you to come along. ”
Rachael paused only for a second, then a huge smile suddenly split her face.
“Thanks, I accept.”
“Well, come on then. Lunch is the one class that I don’t want to be late for.”
***
Vick
y’s eyes scanned the cafeteria until she found Luke. She waved. We’ll get our lunch and meet you at the table. She glanced at Rachael and pointed toward him. “Luke has a table for us.”
Rachael giggled, bouncing a couple of times on the balls of her feet. “Okay, that sounds great.”
I’ve already got lunch for all of us. Just come to the table.
Vicky’s mouth gaped open. You didn’t have to do that . . . again.
Yes, I did. I told you I was going to spoil you. Vicky rolled her eyes, laughing.
“What’s so funny?” Rachael asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing much. Luke was just teasing me.” She pointed toward the table again. “He took the liberty of buying us lunch, so we don’t have to stand in line.”
Rachael stopped in her tracks, eyes wide. “He bought lunch for me too?”
“Yeah, he’s a great guy, and he says his intent is to spoil me.” She tugged on Rachael’s arm leading her to the table. “What can I say? He’s sweet, and he’s doing an awfully good job of spoiling me too.”
Vicky weaved her way through the cafeteria with Rachael in tow. Arriving within ten feet of Luke, she stopped so abruptly that the other girl ran into her.
Rachael grabbed her arm to keep from falling. “Vicky, why did you stop?”
“Luke, what is he doing here?” Vicky lifted a shaky finger, pointing at Chuck.
Rachael peeked over her shoulder. She tugged on Vicky’s shirt to try to get her attention.
Be careful, babe, he might not be able to read your thoughts, but he’s part of my family, and he can read mine.
“Vicky, what’s going on?” Rachael tugged on her arm again, trying to get her attention.
“Luke’s cousin, Chuck, is at the table with him,” she whispered.
Rachael gripped Vicky’s arm, her eyes lighting up. “Chuck is Luke’s cousin?”
Vicky’s eyes widened at Rachael’s reaction, and a slow smile appeared on her face. “Yeah . . . it appears so. Do you know Chuck?”
She sighed wistfully. “No, I’ve only seen him in the halls and of course at all the football games.”
Luke, I think Rachael wants to meet Chuck
What a coincidence. He wants to meet her too. He just kicked me. “Hey!” he complained aloud.
Vicky laughed. He heard you, didn’t he?
Luke reached under the table, rubbing his leg. Yeah, he did.
Arriving at the table, she found Luke smiling playfully. “Hi. How’s the leg?”
Luke pulled out a chair, and she sat down, her smile faltering as she glanced at Chuck.
“Hi.”
He nodded, and he pulled out a chair for Rachael. She stood behind the chair. He sat back in his chair. “Vicky, are you gonna introduce me to your friend?”
“Sure.” She glanced at Rachael, who suddenly seemed about to bolt. At her encouraging wink, Rachael somewhat reluctantly sat down. The petrified look on Rachael's face told her that her new friend was scared to death, and she was suddenly angry with Sara all over again for taking away all of Rachael’s self-confidence. Rachael was a beautiful girl, and she should not have to suffer just because of Sara’s jealousy.
“Chuck, this is Rachael Johnson. Rachael, this is Chuck Holmes.
“Well, we finally get to meet,” Chuck cut in, giving Rachael a flirtatious grin.
“I’ve seen you in the halls, but every time I try to approach you, you hurry away.”
The color rose to Rachael’s cheeks, and she gave Vicky a panicked glance. Vicky smiled reassuringly. “I’m sorry,” Rachael remarked in a small voice, “I didn’t know.”
She swallowed hard, refusing to meet his eyes. “Guys have made it a point to avoid me for the last couple of years, so I always assumed you were headed somewhere else.”
Chuck drew his eyebrows together, frowning. “I don’t understand. Is there something going on that I don’t know about?”
“Chuck . . .” Luke’s low tone contained a warning.
As Rachael’s eyes dropped to the untouched food on the table, her complexion turning a little green, Vicky felt the need to do something. “She is skittish and withdrawn because of Sara.” Rachael’s head snapped up, her expression horrified.
Vicky shook her head. “He needs to know,” she remarked softly. “Believe me; I don’t think he’ll care.”
“What did Sara do to make Rachael run from everyone?” Chuck asked impatiently.
“Sara was jealous of Rachael, so she cursed her,” Vicky remarked bluntly.
The muscle in Chuck’s jaw twitched. “What kind of curse?”
Rachael’s eyes reverted to the table again; she winced shying away at his tone.
Vicky explained, “Well, from what Rachael’s told me, she lost most of her hair, and it took a really long time for it to grow back. I understand everyone avoided her after that.
I guess they might have been afraid Sara would curse them too.”
“You’re wrong, Vicky,” Chuck challenged. “I do care.” Rachael closed her eyes, the color draining from her face. “I’m going to make sure that Sara pays for her witchery,” Chuck said. “She has been terrorizing this school with her black magic for far too long.”
Rachael’s head snapped up, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “You’re not afraid of Sara?” Relief rang clear in her voice.
“I’m not afraid of a witch,” he replied in a deep tone, looking pointedly at Vicky.
Luke locked eyes with him, pulling Vicky’s chair protectively closer to him.
“Chuck, don’t.”
Rachael shook her head frantically. “Vicky’s not like Sara.”
“She’s a witch!”
Rachael looked back and forth between Vicky and Chuck. “Yes, but . . . you can’t.” She shook her head, gathering her courage. “You can’t, Chuck! She’s my friend.”
She stood at the table, placing herself between Vicky and Chuck and raised her chin defiantly, her eyes dilating, the outer edges tinged in gold. “I won’t allow you to hurt her!”
Chuck sat back in his chair, chuckling softly. He pointed at Rachael as he spoke to Luke. “She’s a shifter.” He tilted his head, catching Rachael’s eyes. “You’re mighty protective of your friend.” He laughed harder. “I like that.” He leaned forward in his seat, glancing around Rachael to look at Vicky. “You’ve earned her loyalty. I guess you can’t be all bad . . .”
Vicky felt Luke relax and then she relaxed too.
“What’s your affinity, honey?” Chuck said to Rachael.
She sat back down hard in the chair. “My what?”
He raised an eyebrow. “I can tell that you’re a shifter by your eyes. What do you shift into?”
“Oh!” She quickly looked away. “I’m not supposed to . . .”
He laughed. “I’m a wolf,” he whispered to her.
Her gaze scouted the room nervously, then locked with his. “Panther,” she whispered back.
Vicky reached for her hamburger, taking a bite. I would have never matched those two together.
Luke picked up his own hamburger. Me neither.
Chapter Ten
Vicky gazed into the mirror, putting the finishing touches to her hair, when she heard a knock at the front door. She glanced at the clock. It was a few minutes before six.
“I’ll get it, Pumpkin,” her father called .
She left her room to stand at the top of the stairs. “Okay, Dad.”
Mr. Phillips opened the door. “Phoebe,” he remarked, sounding somewhat shocked, “what are you doing here?”
Vicky frowned, backing up against the wall out of sight. “Phoebe,” she repeated under her breath. “What’s she doing here?” Her eyes grew wide. “How does Dad know her?” She crouched down, spying between the spindles of the railing. She drew in a sharp breath as her mouth dropped open. “She’s in street clothes. Where’s her habit?”
Phoebe smiled coyly from the open doorway. “Why, Ryan, aren’t you going to invite me in?”
He loo
ked over his shoulder but did not seem to see her hiding at the top of the stairs. He let out a slow, resigned breath. “Sure, why not.”
I’ll tell you why not. Vicky clutched the railing, trying to keep her breaths slow and even—and quiet.
“Come on back to my study, and we’ll talk,” he remarked in a shaky voice, turning to walk away. “Follow me.”
Phoebe brushed past him, charging into the house. “I know where the study is,”
she remarked in a demeaning tone. “I grew up in this house, remember?”
“Yeah, I had momentarily forgotten that.”
Vicky gripped the spindles until her hands shook from the force as she observed them at the bottom of the stairs. “She grew up in this house?” She shook her head.
“Mom grew up in this house.” The color drained from her face. “Oh, God, we’re related.”
Phoebe smiled up at Ryan, took his hand. “We have a lot of catching up to do.”
She pulled him into the study, shutting the door behind them Vicky paced back and forth a few times. She turned her face up to the heavens, splaying her hands. “God, tell me what to do,” she pleaded.
Vicky? What’s wrong?
She jumped her heart racing. What?
Babe, it’s me, Luke. I can feel your panic. Tell me what’s wrong?
Oh, Luke! Sister Phoebe is in my house right now with my dad.
What?
She’s in his study right now, behind closed doors. What am I going to do?
You don’t think that she’s there to tell your dad about the spider thing do you?
I don’t know–maybe. But here’s the weird thing: she showed up here in street clothes, and I overheard them. She grew up in this house. My mom did, too. That means we must be related somehow.
Where are you now?
I’m standing like a dummy at the top of the stairs.
On my way. Sneak downstairs and see if you can overhear anything.
She tiptoed down, avoiding the squeaky center of the third step from the top, pausing at the bottom to listen. She could hear muffled voices coming from the office.
Walking up to the door, she pressed her eye up to the old fashioned keyhole.
“I’ll have to admit, Phoebe, I am surprised to see you,” Vicky's father remarked, pausing. “Tell me, why are you here?”