Fox runs both of his hands through his hair and whistles. “Yikes.”
Bridget lets out a relieved sigh. “Oh, good. I’m not the only one.”
“Oh, come on, this spell isn’t that hard,” Lexie says.
I raise an eyebrow and she offers a small smile.
“Okay, maybe it is pretty hard, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. I mean, we have to, don’t we?”
She’s right. I don’t have to say it for everyone in the room to know it’s true. When I told them about everything that’s happening, I didn’t leave out the fact that Brody and Kai are threatening my family. While I didn’t come out and include Lexie in that, I’m sure she understands the implication. We have to make this work. And for the first time, I’m positive we’ll be able to do so without Krissa.
Chapter Forty
Krissa
I still feel guilty for not agreeing to help Crystal when she showed up at the shop. I sent her several texts that night asking if she’d be willing to meet up and talk about my concerns, but they were largely ignored. The one time she did respond, she basically said don’t do me any favors and left it at that. Her sudden about-face in demeanor confuses me. I want to help her; I’m just not sure this spell is the best idea. She just can’t seem to understand that. When she didn’t jump at another opportunity to convince me how wrong I am about the Influence spell, I reached out to Griffin to ask if she had called a meeting of the circle to have them cast it for her. He had no idea what I was talking about but promised to tell me if he heard anything.
At school the next day, I do my best to put all worries about Crystal out of my head. We’ll figure something out. We still have time before Brody’s deadline. I’ve been toying with the idea of amping up the transference spell in a way that will allow Crystal to hold in the magic longer.
As I stand at my locker before first hour, though, it’s not the Amaranthine or Crystal or spell modifications at the forefront of my mind. I’m still not wearing the bracelet. I kept it off all evening yesterday, and nothing bad happened. It’s true I didn’t spend any time with psychics, but hours around Jodi, my parents, and customers at the shop didn’t lead to any catastrophes. I thought about putting it back on before I left for school this morning, but at the last minute I decided to try life completely reconnected.
In first hour, I keep to the same back-row seat I’ve been in for months, but as soon as West walks in, I know something is different. I’m digging around in my backpack, but I know when he arrives without looking up. While most people register is nothing but a soft glow in my mind, West is a starburst. I’ve forgotten how different it is to feel another person with psychic abilities. I’m so surprised that my head snaps up and I make eye contact with him for a split second. To my great relief, he doesn’t immediately look away.
Throughout the period I’m acutely aware of his presence. Even Lexie’s consciousness is brighter than others in the room. I make sure to keep myself in check and not dip into their thoughts, but just being able to feel them, to feel that they’re different in the same way I am, is comforting.
In second hour, it’s nearly impossible to keep focused on whatever Mrs. Bates is droning about. Owen is in second hour. For some reason, it takes much more concentration to keep from experiencing his emotions. Maybe it’s because the binding spell had us connected in such a close way, or maybe it’s something else. But there’s one point when Owen is handing an assignment to the person behind him that his glance rises to meet mine and I feel a spark, a jolt of electricity, as an emotion radiates from him to me. It’s a kind of longing that makes me ache. At first, I’m not sure whether it’s coming from him or me, since it’s such a perfect reflection of how I’ve been feeling these last few months. I miss him. I miss him so much. Why, in all this time, has it not occurred to me that he might be missing me, too?
During Spanish, my resolve solidifies. We have a test, so Tucker has decided to grace the school with his presence. As the teacher starts class, he studies me, scrunching his eyebrows. “Something’s different about you today.”
I give my best nonchalant shrug. “Must be my hair.” I flip its length over my shoulder for effect.
He shakes his head. “That’s not it.” He squints in concentration and stares at me so long I feel heat rising in my cheeks. Finally, a grin cracks his face. “I know what it is. I can read you.”
I shush him immediately. His voice was louder than I think was strictly necessary, and my eyes snap toward the front of the room where Felix and West sit. I hold up my bare wrist. “I took it off.”
He raises an eyebrow. “And what? It’s a secret?” He lifts his chin toward West and Felix.
I shake my head. It’s not—really, it isn’t. Still, it’s not like I want to go announcing it. At least, not yet. “I’m going to sit with them at lunch.”
Tucker can’t quite hide the expression of concern that flickers across his face. “You sure that’s such a good idea? Didn’t go so well last time.”
It’s exactly the reaction I was hoping he wouldn’t have. “Things are different. Felix and I… I think we’re okay now. Not back to the way we were, but maybe on the road. I won’t be showing up out of nowhere this time. He’ll accept me. They all will.”
He hikes an eyebrow. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
I can’t tell whether he’s lying, but either way I’ll take it. “Things’ll be better this time,” I say, as if my words can somehow influence the outcome.
Tucker drops the subject after that, and I’m left combating the butterflies swirling in my stomach for the remainder of the hour. Felix glances back a few times during the period, but he never says anything. I wonder if he, like Tucker, can sense there’s something different about me today. I wonder if my feelings are reaching him on the other side of the classroom.
When the bell rings to dismiss us from third hour, Tucker squeezes my shoulder as we stand. “Good luck.” He offers a grin before heading up the aisle toward the door.
The urges to dawdle at my locker and to run straight to the lunchroom war inside me as I walked down the hall. I force my body to take a happy medium between the two extremes. I stop at my locker for my bagged lunch, but I don’t linger. I do my best to erase the last four months and remember what it was like when walking down to the lunchroom was just another part of my normal routine. Of course, I can’t pretend like no time has elapsed. That was the problem the first time I tried this. I have to accept the fact that things are different now, that my place in our circle of friends will have to change. But I refuse to believe I won’t be allowed in that circle. I simply won’t accept that.
Although the cafeteria is already buzzing and thrumming with bodies in motion and voices gossiping too loudly, all the movement and noise seems to fade away as I walk past the lunch line and zero in on my target. Bria is already there, nibbling on a French fry. Felix is beside her, but there’s no food in front of him. West is just ahead of me and sits seconds before I reached the table.
It’s Bria who notices me first. Her eyebrows hike up her forehead and she nudges Felix. Her face gives away nothing. Last time I tried this, it was she who told me to give Felix time. Is she happy I’m here again?
When Felix catches my eye, a broad, genuine smile cracks his face. Without having to force my lips to curl, I find I’m also smiling. Bria’s expression is more guarded, and when West turns, his brow knits with confusion.
I take in a deep breath and release it slowly before closing the remaining distance to the table. I nod at the spot beside West. “This seat taken?”
I could easily just sit down, pretend like it’s just a normal day, but I’ve been down that road before. I need permission. I can ask for forgiveness later.
West glances across the table at Felix, who shoots him a look that clearly reads, Dude, what’s wrong with you? Although it was West I asked, Felix is the one who responds. “That seat’s been waiting for you for a while now.”
The butterfli
es that have been battling in my stomach threaten to explode through my abdomen. I do my best not to look like I’m about to throw up. Every bit of me tingles, like an exposed nerve. Three sets of eyes prickle my skin, and I’m aware of featherlight brushes against my consciousness. None of my psychic friends presses deep enough to actually read what’s going on in my mind, but I can tell from minuscule reactions that flicker across their faces that they’re all surprised with what they find.
“I’m not wearing it,” I say in response to their unasked question. “The charm I was using to block myself off. I think I’m ready to rejoin the world. I just hope I’m not too late.”
Bria’s face softens, and one corner of her mouth curls up in a half-smile. “It’s never too late for some things.”
I tip my lunch bag and allow the contents to spill onto the table. It’s a simple act, but it holds so much weight. No one objects because I’m welcome here. The thought sends a thrill of pleasure through my body. I study the lunch my mom assembled. Even when I went through a spell of bringing home everything she sent to school with me, she never stopped packing me food. She never even complained about how I’d wasted her time. I can’t believe the kind of hell I’ve been putting her through. She hasn’t deserved it, not any more than my friends have deserved me pulling away from them. My turkey sandwich is cut diagonally—as usual—and I pull half out of the bag and hold it out to Felix, who accepts gratefully.
“No money for lunch today,” he explains around a mouthful of turkey and bread.
Bria snorts. “Yeah, because you lost all of it to West betting on something stupid, no doubt.”
I can’t help smiling. When I first started interacting with these versions of my friends, West and Felix had bets going about the witches. I wonder what they’ve been betting about this time, but before I can ask, Lexie slides into the seat beside Felix, holding a tray from the lunch line.
“No complaining about what I bought,” Lexie admonishes. She seems to have ordered every fruit cup and salad option available today. “It’s not my fault you’re too lazy to pack your own—” She stops short when her eyes land on me. “Oh, hey.”
And that’s it. After a beat, typical lunchroom conversation begins. In less than a minute, I’m laughing at a story West is telling. Bria pegs him with French fries intermittently, insisting he’s lying or at least embellishing the details.
Why have I stayed away from them so long? Why did I think I needed to shut them out in the first place?
A voice nags at the back of my thoughts. You’re ignoring the mountain-sized elephant in the room. Sure, they’re letting you sit here, but it’s only because they’re ignoring it, too. None of you wants to deal with the truth—with what you are and with what you did. How long before something brings that up? How long before they reject you?
I stuff the voice back into the depths of my mind. No, that’s just my doubts speaking. These are my friends.
Still, I find my smiles don’t come quite as easily now.
I’m finished with my half of the sandwich and am polishing off the carrots Mom packed when someone slips onto the empty chair beside me. I know who it is before I even turn. Now that I’m not wearing the charm, his familiar presence shines like a beacon.
“Owen!” Felix calls across the table. His eyes flick to me before he continues. “Nice to have you join us.”
Owen’s arm brushes mine as he leans forward to swipe one of the remaining fries off Bria’s tray. “It’s nice to have the gang all back together,” he says, but his voice is so low I think I might be the only one who heard it.
West nudges my shoulder and I lean back accommodatingly as he strikes up a conversation with Owen. It’s so easy and natural that it’s hard to believe things haven’t been this way forever. The nagging voice in the back of my mind tries to get my attention, but I ignore it. I don’t want anything to ruin this moment. This is the way things are supposed to be. I can’t believe I let myself get so far away from it. It doesn’t matter what I’ve done. I’ve been so afraid of tainting them with the darkness lurking inside me I ignored the fact that their goodness could influence me just as easily.
The bell to end lunch rings far too soon. The only thing that comforts me as I stand is the knowledge that this isn’t the last time we’ll do this. Maybe I could even try moving my seats in my classes back to where they used to be. And if I play my cards right, perhaps I can even get these guys to accept Tucker—on the occasions he decides to show up. I’m so caught up in this thought as I walk toward the main aisle in the lunchroom that I gasp in surprise when a hand hooks the crook of my arm and spins me around.
“Owen,” I breathe. He’s standing close to me—closer than he’s stood in months. I can feel the heat radiating off his body. It takes all my willpower not to wrap my arms around him. If I did, I’m afraid I’d never let go.
“Hey.” It’s clear he wants to say more, but I get the impression he can’t figure out how to put it into words.
I don’t wait for him to say more. “Can we talk?”
He rubs a hand on the back of his neck. “Do you really think this is the time?”
“Not now,” I say, shaking my head. “I was a little overwhelmed when you showed up at my house, but if you’ll give me the chance, I’d like to talk. Finally. Can we meet tonight?”
Owen nods. “Tonight,” he agrees. “I’ve got track after school, but we can meet after.”
Giddiness bubbles inside me and I can’t help grinning. “Okay.” I take a step back, but before I can turn to start for math class, Owen swoops down and presses a kiss to my lips. It’s soft and over almost as quickly as it begins, but heat sears my lips long after he’s removed his. His eyes lock on mine for a second as if gauging my reaction, but neither of us says anything.
“Tonight,” he repeats before joining the stragglers on their way out of the lunchroom.
It takes a full ten seconds for my body to start working again. When I finally manage to move in the direction of my next class, my body has a distinctly floaty feeling. Owen kissed me. My friends let me sit with them at lunch, and Owen kissed me. Is it possible that things are this easy? Is it possible that this was the step I needed to take to get things back to the way they’re supposed to be? If that’s the case, why has it taken me so long?
Chapter Forty-One
Sasha
I pace my apartment like a caged animal. The eclipse is tonight and I’ve never felt less in control of my own destiny.
Crystal’s going through with the Influence spell. I followed her yesterday and saw her pick up the herbs she’ll need, and later she met with her old circle. I have no doubt when the eclipse happens the Influence spell will be cast.
I just hate that I won’t be a part of casting it. What if it’s too complex for her circle? What if they get something wrong? I don’t want the people I care for hurt because of someone else’s ineptitude.
The eclipse doesn’t begin for hours. I need to distract myself or I’ll go crazy. I alter my course and walk to the kitchen. I grab a box at random from the stack of frozen dinners in my freezer. I don’t even care what it’s supposed to be. When I bought it, I must’ve thought it looked good enough to eat—although the jury is really still out on that. These meals all taste so similar that it doesn’t matter much anyway.
I pry open the cold cardboard, slice the requisite cuts in the thin plastic covering, and pop the whole tray into the microwave. In just seven short minutes—plus an extra two for cooling—my meal will be served. I’m not hungry, but I need to do something to keep from crawling out of my skin.
Just as I hit the start button, my back pocket vibrates. I grab my phone and check the screen. There’s an incoming call, but I don’t recognize the number. My instinct is to ignore it, but at the last second my thumb taps the accept button and I bring the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Sasha.”
My body goes icy. I know that voice. I’d wonder how he got my number, but I’m sure som
eone like him has no limit of resources. “Brody, hello. What’s up?”
He tsks. “You’re not a stupid woman, Sasha. I’m sure you can figure out why I’m calling. The eclipse is tonight.”
“I know.” I try to swallow, but my throat has gone dry. “She’s all set to do the spell. You’ll have the information by your deadline.”
“Forgive me if I’m a bit skeptical of your ability to deliver,” he says, his voice silky. “May I ask what spell it is you think will work when apparently nothing so far has done the trick?”
I hesitate. Should I tell him? Holding out might make him angry, and if he knows the lengths I’m willing to go to, maybe he’ll put off plans to harm anyone in my family as incentive. “Crystal lost her magic when they exorcised Bess from her. But when she casts the Influence spell, she’ll have more than enough power to do what you need.”
There’s a long pause on the line. “Influence? Interesting.”
I hold my breath, waiting for him to go on. It feels like forever before he continues.
“You have forty-eight hours.”
Three beeps indicate he’s ended the call. I sigh, pressing a hand to my forehead. Forty-eight hours. That should be more than enough time.
Someone clears his throat behind me. I jump and spin around, expecting to see Brody standing in my apartment. When my eyes land on the intruder, I almost wish that’s who it was.
“Elliot.” How long has he been standing there? I didn’t hear him let himself in. We didn’t have any plans today, and I silently curse his penchant for popping in on me.
His eyebrows arch in shock. “Are you insane?”
I force a smile, doing my best to play his question off. “Hello to you, too.”
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