The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection

by L. J. Smith

  The garter felt heavy and triumphant in her hand. She gripped it tightly, admiring its shiny buckles, hardly believing she’d done it. She’d really done it! But there was no time to celebrate. Cassie could hear the orange cat scratching outside Faye’s bedroom door, and she had to escape before Faye woke up again.

  Soundlessly, she tried to patch the lining back into place, but without a needle and thread or the proper spell, it would be impossible. Faye would discover it missing in the morning—that was unavoidable. But it didn’t matter. Cassie would be in Cape Cod by then, with the power of all the Master Tools along with her.

  She left the jacket hanging like a looted grave, slipped out of the closet, and across the bedroom floor. The moment she opened the door, the orange cat leaped in, but Cassie was down the stairs and out the way she came within seconds.

  It was only then, finally, that she let the reality settle over her. She now possessed all of the Master Tools, and the power she needed to save Scarlett, even without the help of the Circle.

  Chapter 26

  Cassie woke up at five the next morning, on the dot, without her alarm. It was like her body was so attuned to the day’s mission that manmade technologies of convenience, like clocks, were deemed unnecessary. She felt one with the elements today, no longer at their mercy.

  She got up from bed and dressed ceremonially, like a Spartan warrior preparing for battle. She wrapped herself in the white shift Diana had given her and proudly snapped the silver cuff-bracelet onto her upper arm, the leather garter around her thigh, and the sparkling diadem upon her head. She was ready to go save her sister.

  Cassie made her way downstairs to the kitchen. She had to borrow her mother’s car, but she couldn’t exactly tell her mother she needed it so she could battle the witch hunters and save the sister she was never told about. So she’d have to take it without asking. That seemed to be the theme of this entire mission: Take what you need to get the job done and explain later. And she would. All would be revealed later, to her mother, to Diana, Faye, Adam, everyone. For now, Cassie couldn’t allow any guilt to creep up and distract her—she had to focus solely on getting to Cape Cod.

  But as Cassie drove farther away from Crowhaven Road and then farther away from New Salem, a sickness inside her began to form. Nerves, she figured, and she told herself she had every right to feel nervous; this was a dangerous act. The hunters had black magic on their side.

  The Master Tools will not let me down in my moment of need, Cassie thought. And that reminded her of the chalcedony rose she had hidden within her pocket.

  It was the good-luck piece Adam gave her long ago in case she was in trouble—she’d brought it with her just in case. After everything they’d been through and disagreed over these past few weeks, Cassie still believed in Adam and had faith in their bond. Did they need a rare crystal to connect them at this point in their relationship? No, of course not. Maybe Cassie only brought the chalcedony piece out of superstition, but even so, it calmed her to stroke its rugged surface. The stone felt alive in her grasp the way it did when Adam had first given it to her. Hold on to it tight, he’d told her, and think of me. She did that now and felt her courage grow.

  But crossing over the county line into the town of Sandwich, Cassie’s fear heightened to a new level. The decaying sign alerting that she’d arrived read:

  INCORPORATED 1639

  , reminding Cassie of the deep-rooted history of the place as the oldest town in Cape Cod. The Tools themselves seemed to react to the setting all on their own. Cassie could swear they were warming to her body, growing hotter by the second as she followed the course she’d mapped out to Hawthorne Street.

  She should have a plan of attack, she realized, for when she encountered the hunters. She knew the witch-hunter curse by heart, and the Tools would surely come to her aid, but now that the reality of the situation was setting in, questions began to form in Cassie’s mind. She didn’t know how many hunters there would be. Was there a limit to how many she could take down with the one curse? And what if Scarlett was in even worse shape when she arrived than in Cassie’s dream? There was a fear lurking in the back of Cassie’s mind that Scarlett could have already been killed.

  Again, Cassie felt for the chalcedony rose. But even with the crystal’s comfort, when the house at 48 Hawthorne Street came into view, her whole being flooded with fear. It was just as she’d imagined it in her nightmares, identical to the image that came to her during the location spell. It was a broken-down beach cottage with driftwood-gray siding, and it was near the end of a long, desolate, sandy lane, with a large body of water on one side and tidal marshes on the other. There was no other house in sight.

  The terrible feeling in Cassie’s gut grew. The acid from her stomach crept up her throat, filling her mouth with a sickening taste. Every inch of her body screamed for her to turn around and drive back home. But she knew she couldn’t allow her fear to get the best of her now. Not when she’d come this far.

  With determination, she got out of the car and treaded across the long grass toward the house, but after only a few steps she froze. She tried to continue forward and couldn’t. There was some kind of magical barrier protecting the house’s perimeter, similar to the one Faye used to guard the hidden garter. But that would be easy enough for Cassie to penetrate while wearing the Tools. She touched each relic individually, adjusting them into place, and silently called on their collective power. It wasn’t her imagination, the Tools did feel hot to her touch, she was sure of it.

  “Be now dissolved, powerful shield!” Her voice left her throat sounding deep and gravelly as she sent all of her energy toward the house. She focused hard and said the words again, this time pushing with her mind until she felt the power of the Tools rush out of her like a blistering heat.

  The spell seemed to work at once. The dark cloud perched over the house cleared, and the guarding force at the property’s perimeter disappeared. The relics are really working, Cassie thought to herself. Scarlett was as good as saved.

  Without delay, she continued forward unhindered. Practicing the witch-hunter curse in her mind, she walked slowly and carefully in a state of deep meditation toward the house.

  When she was inches away from the front door, she could see it was windblown and water-damaged, rotted to a softness no wood should be. And the foundation of the house creaked and rattled in the wind, like it could come crashing down at any moment. It occurred to Cassie to try some kind of protection spell on herself before entering, or maybe another silence spell to assist her in sneaking into the house. But then she thought better of it. She would step inside just as she was, no cowardly tricks, no sleight of hand. The Tools were the only power she needed.

  Cassie listened for voices but heard none. In the eerie silence, the fear that Scarlett had already been killed raced through her mind. An image of her dead body hanging from the ceiling, swinging back and forth, like the arm of a clock—tick tock, tick tock—haunted Cassie. But she couldn’t step through this door with the slightest bit of distraction. She’d have seconds to cast the curse, less than that in fact. Cast the curse, rescue Scarlett, and then get the heck out of there. That was the plan.

  Carefully, Cassie placed her hand upon the rotted softness of the door. To her surprise, it wasn’t locked. In fact, it didn’t even appear to be fully closed. She pushed on its damp surface gently with the palm of her hand, and it swept open effortlessly. She was already chanting the witch-hunter curse under her breath, ready for anything that came at her, but when she stepped inside, the scene was nothing like what she saw in her dreams.

  The main room was large and tidy. Its walls were painted an oceanic blue and were finished with bright white crown molding. The hardwood floors were freshly waxed, and the air inside the room was warm and cedar-scented with the heat of a wood-burning fire.

  Scarlett was there, by herself, lounging on a faded sofa in front of the fireplace. Her dyed-red hair cascaded in healthy waves onto her shoulders, fram
ing her rosy-cheeked smirking face.

  “Finally,” she said. “I’ve been getting so bored up here waiting for you.”

  Instantly Cassie knew she’d made a terrible mistake. This was all a trap.

  Chapter 27

  “Come have a seat by the fire,” Scarlett said. She was smiling, in a twisted kind of way.

  Cassie tried to run back out the door, but she found her feet planted in place once again, just as they had been outside on the perimeter of the property. “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “You can come in closer, you just can’t leave.” Scarlett’s smile brightened.

  “Where are the hunters?” Cassie asked.

  Scarlett shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t know.”

  “Are they even real?”

  “Oh, the hunters are very real,” Scarlett said. “They killed my mother and they followed me here. They just never caught me.”

  She tapped the empty space on the sofa beside her, indicating Cassie to sit. “Your Circle has no idea what they’re in for with the hunters. But they offered the perfect setup while I practiced my mind-invasion spells.”

  So all this time Cassie thought she was having visions, communicating across space and time to her sister, it was all just a trick. The Circle had been right all along. Cassie hadn’t been thinking clearly.

  Cassie couldn’t turn around and run away, but she still had the Tools, and they were quivering with energy. She could protect herself.

  She touched each relic and called on their power. Immediately, the Tools became hot—this time, too hot. They singed her skin like they’d turned against her.

  “Feel the burn?” Scarlett asked.

  She had somehow gotten the Tools to backfire on Cassie. They became angry and restless, sizzling with torment.

  “I’ll take them off your hands,” Scarlett said.

  Effortlessly, with one snap of her finger, the Master Tools obeyed her call. Like metal to a magnet, they unhinged themselves from Cassie’s body and flew at Scarlett’s outstretched hands.

  But how? How did Scarlett have so much influence over the Tools that she could beckon them? She must have been a more powerful witch than Cassie could have ever imagined.

  “It really is a shame you’ve never dabbled in the dark arts,” Scarlett said, sensing Cassie’s amazement at her abilities.

  Suddenly Cassie felt cold and naked, wearing nothing but the white shift. Powerless and bewildered, she shivered.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  “I’m Black John’s daughter. Isn’t that obvious?” Scarlett said, gesturing at the Master Tools.

  “So we really are sisters.”

  “Oh yeah,” Scarlett said. “That part was real.”

  Scarlett, now wearing the Master Tools over her black T-shirt and jeans, reached for a poker from the fireplace. Cassie stiffened, but then relaxed when Scarlett leaned over the side of the couch to an open bag of marshmallows. She skewered one with the black metal poker and held it over the fire.

  “These Tools were meant for me,” Scarlett said. “Your whole life was meant for me.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Cassie said, trying her best to come off sounding strong and controlled. “I have no reason to believe anything you say.”

  Scarlett laughed. “You have every reason to.” She watched the marshmallow reluctantly brown over the flame. She seemed to enjoy the way it struggled to maintain its exterior before succumbing to the heat.

  “I was the one he intended to be in the Circle with the rest of them,” she said. “I was born in November, like the others. Not you. Everything you’ve enjoyed since you arrived in New Salem—all of it rightfully belongs to me.”

  “No,” Cassie said. It couldn’t be true.

  “Yup. You were just an afterthought, a backup plan.”

  Cassie felt sick. And the sugary scent of burning marshmallow wasn’t helping.

  Scarlett rotated the pointer in her hand like a rotisserie. “And now I’m here to claim my rightful spot in the Circle. But I’m going to have to kill you to get it.”

  She turned her shining black eyes onto Cassie. “Isn’t that a bummer, sis?”

  Scarlett gripped the metal poker with both hands, and Cassie realized just how much danger she was in. Scarlett did seem just crazy enough to kill her. She had to try to talk her way out of this.

  “Why kill me,” Cassie asked, “when we could lead the Circle together?”

  Scarlett widened her eyes. “Really?” Her voice came out sounding childlike. “You’d be willing to do that?”

  Cassie nodded energetically. “Of course,” she said, trying to sound believable. “We’ll kick someone else out to make room for you as the twelfth member. Trust me, there are plenty of weak links.”

  Scarlett’s dark red lips curled into a vicious smile, and she laughed with her whole body. “You really are pathetic,” she said. “You don’t know much, but even you know it doesn’t work that way.”

  She pulled the pointer out of the flames. The burnt marshmallow on its tip was now on fire, burning red like a hot coal.

  “Someone has to die to break the Circle’s bond,” Scarlett said. “And whichever member dies, they’re immediately replaced with someone of their own bloodline.”

  She shoved the flaming tip of the pointer under Cassie’s nose. “Didn’t you know that? Or had you and your little friends not gotten to that lesson in witch school?

  “You made for mostly an easy target,” Scarlett continued. “Until that protection spell made it impossible to kill you in New Salem.”

  “You were the one who cut my brakes,” Cassie said. It had finally all began making sense.

  Scarlett ignored the accusation. “But now you’re vulnerable,” she said. “No protection spell. And without even your precious Circle to save you.”

  Cassie tried to think of a spell, any spell, to help her out of this situation, but none came to mind. It was like her brain had reset to a blank page. Scarlett had somehow rendered her completely powerless.

  “And since you brought the Master Tools right to me, killing you should be easy.” Scarlett urged the fireball-tipped poker a centimeter away from Cassie’s face.

  She’s going to burn me, Cassie thought. She’s going to set me on fire.

  “Don’t waste your energy trying to do a spell,” Scarlett said. “Only black magic works in this house.”

  Black magic. That explained it, all of it.

  Cassie may have lacked the words to call on the element of Water, but she had to do something. With no other options, she took a swing at the pointer, knowing full well she’d burn her hand doing so, but it worked. She knocked the weapon from Scarlett’s grasp across the room. It landed with a thump onto the thick throw rug.

  Cassie was mildly proud of herself, but Scarlett didn’t seem the least bit rattled that she’d deflected the burning pointer from her grasp.

  “Nice work,” Scarlett said. “I couldn’t have done that better myself.” She directed Cassie’s attention to the smoke rising up from the rug where the pointer had landed. Then the smoke gave way to a small, newly born flame.

  Scarlett’s dark eyes sparkled, reflecting the silver of the diadem and bracelet, and the buckles of the garter. With a single wave of her hand, she fanned the small fire across the entire floor and up all four walls of the cottage, surrounding Cassie in a sweltering tent of heat and flames.

  I’m a fool, Cassie thought, a fool for being so trusting.

  Cassie cowered at the sight of the fire. There was no escaping a blaze of this size.

  “You’ve gone too far,” Cassie cried out. “You’ll burn in here with me.”

  Scarlett stood up and calmly began walking through the flames to gather her things. “Another thing you don’t know,” she said, yanking her clothes out of the closet and stuffing them into a large duffel bag. “The fire protection spell. It was one of Daddy’s favorites.”

  Smoke filled the room. It caught Cassie in the throat an
d brought stinging tears to her eyes, but Scarlett remained unbothered by it.

  “No!” Cassie screamed, crawling across the floor toward Scarlett, but she could only move a few inches in any direction. The flames were blocking her every exit. Within minutes the fire would consume her. “Please, Scarlett, we’re sisters. Please don’t do this!”

  Scarlett stood still with her bags in hand. Angry flames danced and cracked all around her, and black smoke encircled her body like a sinister tornado. “At least go with a little dignity, Cassie.”

  She dropped her bags in place and took a few deliberate steps closer. She leaned down slowly, like a serpent, to look Cassie in the eyes. “Did our father scream for mercy when you killed him, Cassie? I bet not.”

  Scarlett had his eyes, Cassie realized. Those pitch-black marbles that were cold as death, just like Black John’s. She was more his daughter than Cassie was. How could Cassie have been so fooled by her before?

  And then Cassie remembered her mother’s words about Black John. He wasn’t all bad, she’d said.

  “You don’t have to do this,” Cassie cried, trying to soften Scarlett’s cold hard stare with her own. “There’s good inside you, even now. You can choose to not be like him.”

  “I know.” Scarlett kicked Cassie away with the heel of her black boot. “But where’s the fun in that?”

  Chapter 28

  The flames roared and crackled with evil intent, as if the fire had a will of its own. Its scorching heat brought Cassie, blistering, to her knees. She was coughing and couldn’t catch her breath, soon to completely lose herself to its all-consuming power. Scarlett looked her over one last time.

  “Good-bye, Cassie,” she said. “It was nice knowing you.”

  Cassie’s face burned from the sweltering heat. This must be what hell would feel like, she thought, this never-ending torture by fire. Cut off from her mother, and her friends, and Adam, Cassie was dying alone. And here was Scarlett, the stronger daughter, the wicked sister, and the last living face Cassie would look upon before her death.