The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection: The Initiation and The Captive Part I, The Captive Part II and The Power, The Divide, The Hunt, The Temptation

by L. J. Smith

  Logan took a step toward her, but Portia’s voice, sharp as a wasp sting, stopped him. “She’s doing it! She’s using her witch powers on you, right now. Don’t be stupid, Logan.”

  Cassie looked at her. “Portia, for God’s sake . . .”

  “Portia’s right,” Jordan said brutally. “If we listen to her, she’ll trick us. She’s been a liar from the start.” He pulled the metal thing out of the fire.

  “What is that?” Cassie asked.

  “A cattle brand.”

  Cassie thought about that, and tried to keep her fragile grip on control. Jordan stepped in front of her, holding the long rod which was red-hot at the end. That didn’t surprise Cassie. What surprised her was what he said.

  “Where are the Master Tools?” he asked.

  Cassie was dumbfounded. “What?”

  “Mr. Brunswick told us,” Portia said, her voice thin and hard. “He told us that they’re the source of your power, and that if they’re destroyed you lose it all. He wants to destroy them himself and stop you forever.”

  Cassie had the wild impulse to laugh, but she knew that would only bring more trouble. So he’d put them up to this. And he knew she’d found the Master Tools. Right now, he must be expecting her to tell Jordan to save herself. Or maybe he was around here, hoping Cassie would call on him for help.

  I won’t, Cassie thought. No matter how bad it gets, I won’t do it. I don’t want to be saved by him.

  She looked around the clearing, especially at the shadows that flickered on the edges of the firelight.

  “He wants the Master Tools, all right,” she said distinctly. “But not to destroy them. He’d use them to destroy you, and us, too, if he can’t get us to knuckle under.”

  Jordan looked unsurprised. “You’ll tell us in a while,” he said. “I expected you to lie at first.”

  Cassie’s entire body tightened as he brought the glowing brand closer to her. I am brave, she thought, trying to calm her heartbeat. I am as strong as I need to be. But when she smelled the hot metal, sheer black fright swept through her.

  “Wait! Stop right there, Jurgen and Lowdown, or whatever your names are.” It was Deborah’s voice, angry and filled with elemental savagery. The girl was standing between two trees as if she’d just materialized there this moment. With her tumbled dark hair blending into the black shadows, and her graceful, stalking posture, she might have been some forest goddess come on a mission of vengeance.

  Jordan dropped the cattle brand and grabbed his gun, pointing it directly at Deborah.

  A new voice spoke quietly from the other side of the grove. “If you move away from Cassie and put the gun down,” Adam said in low, precise tones, “we won’t have to hurt you.” He had appeared just as soundlessly and he looked just as dangerous as Deborah. Cassie thought of the costume he’d worn at Halloween, the stag antlers and autumn leaves of the horned god. Right now she wouldn’t have been surprised to see a stag beside him.

  There was another slight movement and Cassie saw Diana.

  It was as if moonlight had suddenly stepped into the grove. An unearthly aura hung about the girl who stood with fair hair cascading around her like a shining cloak. Tall and slender, she had such an air of command that she might have been the goddess Diana, with the moon and stars at her fingertips. She looked at the outsiders silently with eyes as green as jewels, and then she spoke.

  “Get away from my friend,” she said.

  For an instant Cassie thought they were going to do it on the strength of her authority alone. Jordan’s gun wavered. Then it snapped up again, pointing toward Adam, and Logan snatched a burning stick from the fire. He held it close to Cassie’s face, as Jordan had held the brand.

  “Keep back or we’ll hurt her,” he said.

  Adam let out his breath. “We warned you,” he said softly.

  Cassie was looking into Diana’s emerald eyes. She glanced at Logan’s burning stick, and then back. She could tell that Diana remembered the candle ceremony.

  Fire—so close she could feel its heat on her cheek. The flames changing shape every second, their radiance streaming endlessly upward. There was power in Fire, as Cassie had discovered when Faye had waved a piece of burning paper at her in the old science building. Power there for the taking . . .

  This time she took it.

  The stick flared up as if someone had dumped gasoline on it, and Cassie turned her face away, eyes shut against the brilliance. Logan screamed and threw the stick. Jordan’s head jerked sideways, he was distracted for an instant—

  —and that was all it took. Jordan went down as the Henderson brothers appeared from nowhere, leaping like twin golden flames. The gun fired a shot skyward, and then they were pinning him, one on each arm. Cassie saw Nick surge up from the shadows and grab Logan from behind. Logan struggled, but Adam joined Nick and the fight was over in seconds.

  By the time Cassie looked the other way, the outsider girls were taken care of. Sally was on her face, with Deborah kneeling on her back and Melanie standing over them. Portia was flattened against a tree, very still. Two feet from her, Raj was snarling, lips peeled back, hair bristling. Laurel stood just behind him, looking tall and terrible.

  “These trees,” she said to Portia, “have put up with a lot from your kind. If you try to run you’ll end up lost in the middle of them. That’s not to mention what the dog might do. If I were you, I wouldn’t move a muscle.”

  Portia didn’t.

  Diana walked over and cut Cassie’s ropes with a white-handled knife. It took some time.

  “Good job,” Suzan said from the sidelines.

  “Are you all right?” Diana asked Cassie, still with that frightening, unearthly aura about her. Cassie nodded.

  “We were already on our way when you called to Adam,” Diana said. “Laurel saw their car speeding down Crowhaven Road and Adam felt there was something wrong. He guided us to their car, but it was Raj who tracked you through the woods.”

  Cassie just nodded gratefully. She couldn’t speak.

  “Since Cassie’s all right, we won’t hurt you four,” Diana said aloud, then. “But we’re going to take this”—she picked up Jordan’s gun, holding it as if it were a poisonous snake—“and we’re going to leave you here. Your car has a few flat tires. You can walk home.”

  The four outsiders said nothing. Sally, still on the ground, was panting; Logan, with Nick’s arm around

  his throat, was trembling-still; Portia remained frozen against the tree. But it was Jordan who held Cassie’s attention. He was staring at Diana with eyes of pure hatred, like a cornered wild dog.

  It will never stop, Cassie thought. They’ll hate us even more after this. They’ll do something else to us, and we’ll do something to them, and it will never stop.

  On impulse, she walked over to where Jordan lay sprawled on his back on the forest floor, and she held out a hand to him.

  “We don’t have to be enemies,” she said. “Can’t we just end it now?”

  Jordan spat on her.

  Cassie went still, too surprised to be upset. Nobody had ever spat at her before. She looked in shock at her outstretched hand, then wiped it on her jeans.

  What happened next she heard later from Laurel, because she was actually looking down at the time. Nick started toward Jordan instantly, but he was hindered by having to get rid of Logan, and anyway Adam was simply faster. He moved faster than the eye could follow, grabbing Jordan by the front of the jacket and hauling him up, then knocking him down again with one lightning-quick blow to the face. Behind Cassie, the bonfire shot up in orange flames ten feet high. Jordan landed on his back, both hands clapped over his nose.

  “Get up,” Adam said. The flames roared and crackled, sending a shower of sparks floating into the darkness of the woods.

  Nick was beside Adam now. His face was emotionless, utterly cool, the old Nick. “Naw, buddy, I think he’s had enough,” he drawled, taking hold of Adam’s arm.

  Jordan lifted one hand f
rom his nose, and Cassie saw the blood. “She’s a little liar. You’ll find out,” he yowled in a thick voice, looking from Cassie to Adam.

  For a moment Cassie thought Adam was going to hit him again. Then Adam turned away, as if forgetting Jordan existed. He didn’t seem to notice Nick’s existence either. He took Cassie’s hand, the one Jordan had spat on, turned it over, and kissed it.

  Cassie thought that somebody had better do something fast.

  “We should tie them up,” Melanie said, her calm, thoughtful voice pervading the clearing. “Or three of them at least—the fourth can be untying the others while we get away.”

  “Not too tightly,” Diana said, conceding. While Jordan, Logan, and Sally were being tied up, she stuck the white-handled knife in the ground by Portia. “You can cut them free when we leave. Don’t try to follow us,” she said. Portia didn’t look as if she might follow; her eyes were showing white all around.

  Diana followed her gaze to the fire, which was still roaring more like a burning oil well than a bonfire, and spoke softly to Cassie. “Can you tone that down a little? I think they’re scared enough.”

  Cassie, who wasn’t doing it, mumbled something inarticulate, and hastily went over to check on Sally’s bonds.

  Sally glanced at her out of the sides of her eyes and spoke without moving her lips. “I was wrong about you.”

  Cassie looked at her in surprise, but said nothing, leaning over as if to examine Sally’s tied wrists.

  “You may be right about Brunswick,” Sally said, still in almost inaudible tones. “If you are, I feel sorry for you. He’s going to do something on the ninth. There’s a full moon or something—and that’s when he’s going to move. He wanted the tools before then.”

  “Thanks,” Cassie whispered and she squeezed Sally’s hand behind her back. Then she straightened up as Diana said, “Let’s go.” As they left, Cassie nudged Adam inconspicuously.

  “Are you doing the fire?” she whispered.

  “What? Oh.” The flames fell, collapsing suddenly into a normal bonfire. “I guess so,” he said.

  They walked through the woods, Laurel and Deborah leading them surely among the dark trees, Raj trotting alongside. Cassie spent the entire walk thinking about Nick.

  She got in the Armstrong car with him when they came to the road. He drove silently, one arm along the back of the seat. The other cars were in front of them, headlights shining on the lonely road as they made their way back to New Salem.

  Cassie was trying to find the right words to say. She’d never had to do anything like this before and she was afraid to do it wrong. She was afraid to hurt Nick.

  But there was no way around it. From the instant that Adam had kissed her hand she had known. Cassie could like it or hate it, but there was no way to do anything about it.

  “Nick . . .” she said, and choked up.

  “You don’t have to say anything,” he said, in his old detached, nothing-hurts-me voice. Cassie could hear the pain underneath it. Then he looked at her, and his tone softened.

  “I knew what I was doing when I got into this,” he said. “And you never pretended anything else. It’s not your fault.”

  He’d said she didn’t have to say anything—but she did. She had to try to explain to him.

  “It’s not because of Adam,” she said softly. “I mean, it’s not for him, because I know there’s no hope. I—accept that now, and I’m happy for him and Diana. But I just . . .”

  She stopped and shook her head helplessly. “This is going to sound totally stupid, but I can’t be with anybody else. Ever. I’m just going to have to . . .” She tried to think of a way to put it, but all she could come up with was a phrase out of one of her grandmother’s Victorian etiquette books she’d read one rainy afternoon.

  “I’m going to have to live a life of single blessedness,” she mumbled.

  Nick threw back his head and laughed. Real laughter. Cassie looked at him, embarrassed, but glad that at least he was smiling. His voice was more normal too, as he glanced at her sideways, taking his arm off the back of the seat.

  “Oh, you think so?” he said.

  “Well, what else am I supposed to do?”

  Nick didn’t answer, just shook his head slightly, with another little snort of laughter.

  “Cassie, I’m glad I met you,” he said. “You’re—unique. Sometimes I think you belong back in medieval times instead of now. You and Diana and him, all three. But, anyway, I’m glad.”

  Cassie felt more embarrassed, and she didn’t understand. “I’m glad I met you,” she said. “You’ve been so nice to me—you’re such a good guy.”

  He snorted again. “Most people would disagree,” he said. “But I’m not so bad. I’ll have to make sure I’m not, or I’ll still see you looking at me with those big eyes.” He started to fish a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket, then glanced at her sideways and tapped it back.

  Cassie smiled. She wished she could hold his hand, but that wouldn’t be right. She was going to have to make it alone now.

  She leaned back and looked through the windows at the lighted houses slipping by.

  Chapter 13

  “It’s the Moon of Long Nights,” Diana said. “And it’s not just full on the ninth. There’s an eclipse.”

  “A total lunar eclipse,” said Melanie.

  “Is that bad for us?” Cassie asked.

  Diana considered. “Well, all witches’ powers are strongest in moonlight. And certain spells are best done at the dark of the moon, or at the full moon, or at some other phase. I’m sure that if Black John is going to move on that particular night, an eclipse must be best for whatever he’s going to do. And worst for us fighting him.”

  “Except,” Adam said, “if we know he’s going to move—and he doesn’t know we know it. He won’t realize we’re prepared.”

  There were thoughtful nods around the Circle. It was the day after Thanksgiving and everyone who had come to rescue Cassie the day before was gathered at Adam’s house. Cassie had told them what had happened in the clearing before they came—except about Jordan asking for the Master Tools. This she’d whispered to Adam and Diana in front of Diana’s house last night. Now she looked at the two of them with a question in her eyes.

  Adam and Diana both regarded the group unhappily. “Right,” Adam said. “I guess we’d better tell them. Since he knows, it doesn’t really matter, does it?”

  “Faye must have found out somehow,” Diana said, looking more unhappy than ever. “She went to Black John—”

  “No,” Cassie said.

  Diana looked at her, surprised. “But—”

  “Not Faye,” Cassie said, grimly and with absolute certainty. “Sean.”

  Adam cursed softly. Diana stared at him, then at Cassie. Then she whispered, “Oh, my God.”

  “What about Sean? What did he do?” Deborah demanded. Nick was very alert, his narrow eyes fixed on Cassie.

  After a glance at Diana—who nodded and leaned her head on one hand—Cassie said simply to Deborah, “He told Black John that Adam and Diana and I had found the Master Tools.”

  “You found—you mean you guys—you mean you really—?” Deborah was sputtering. The others looked speechless with amazement.

  “Cassie led us to them,” Adam said. “They were in the fireplace at Number Twelve. On the way back we ran into Sean, who said he’d seen a light. But you think . . . ?” He looked at Cassie.

  Cassie took a deep breath. “I think Black John has been influencing him all along. I think he was the one who stole the hematite from my room. I figured it out last night, when I was trying to get to sleep. I started thinking about who could have told Black John—and I kept getting this flash of Sean the first time I saw him. He was wearing a belt with his name carved on some shiny stone. I used to see him wear it all the time, but now that it’s cold and everybody’s wearing sweaters, I haven’t noticed it. But I’ll bet he’s been wearing it underneath, and I’ll bet he was wearing it that
night he came out in his pajama top. And I’ll bet that shiny stone is—”

  “Hematite,” half a dozen bleak voices chorused, and everyone looked at Melanie.

  “Hematite or lodestone,” Melanie confirmed. “Yes, it is; I’ve seen that belt too. How incredibly stupid of us. It never even occurred to me.”

  Nick leaned forward. “So you think Faye wasn’t the one who told Black John we were wearing amethysts as protection? You think Sean did that?”

  Cassie looked at the hard line of his mouth. “It wasn’t his fault, Nick. If Black John got into his mind—well, I know how I felt when he was trying to get into my mind. Sean wouldn’t have been able to resist. In fact, we saw that he couldn’t resist, at the assembly when he volunteered to be a hall monitor. I had to yell at him to break the trance.”

  “Sean . . . God!” Laurel said, settling back. “It’s just too awful.”

  “I’m afraid it’s worse,” Cassie said. She stared down at Mrs. Franklin’s coffee table, pressing one hand flat against it. She didn’t know how to say this next. “You guys, I think . . . I think Black John used Sean to commit the murders.”

  There was a deafening silence. Even Diana looked too horrified to support Cassie. But Adam looked into her eyes and then slowly, shutting his own eyes, nodded.

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Oh, no,” said Suzan.

  “I think”—Cassie swallowed—“that he could have written a note to Kori the night before, asking her to meet him in front of school. She wouldn’t have suspected him; she’d have just thought it was Circle business. He could have come up behind her, and—”

  “I’ll kill him!” Doug shouted, jumping up. Nick and Deborah grabbed him, but by then Chris was shouting too, lunging for the door. Adam and Melanie wrestled him to the ground.

  “It wasn’t him; it wasn’t Sean,” Cassie shouted. “Listen to me, you guys! It was Black John; he’s the one who killed Kori. If I’m right, Sean probably doesn’t even remember it! He was just a—a container for the dark energy to use.”

  “God,” Laurel said. “God—remember the skull ceremony in Diana’s garage? The time the second bunch of dark energy was released? Sean and Faye started fighting, the candle went out, and the dark energy escaped. Sean said Faye started it, and we all believed him. But Faye said Sean was trying to break the circle. What if she was right?”