Wicked Secrets

by H G Lynch

  ** Sherry **

  Sherry was pacing her room anxiously. “Ember, where the hell are you?” she asked the empty air. It was after midnight and she hadn’t seen Ember all day. In fact, she hadn’t seen anyone all day, except Ricky when she had lunch with him earlier – but that was hours ago – and Ember’s mum, who didn’t seem to have any more idea about where Ember was than Sherry did.

  Sherry had been worried about her friend for the past two hours now, no matter how much she tried to convince herself that Ember was probably just out at her tree, still upset over her argument with Reid. Of course, maybe she should go and check for her, make sure she was okay. But Ember hated it when people disturbed her in her tree, especially when she was upset.

  Then again, it was so late. Maybe she’d gotten lost on the way back, or she’d hurt herself. Or maybe she’d gone and made up with Reid. Yeah, that would make sense. She’d made up with Reid and they were currently busy doing she-didn’t-want-to-know-what.

  But normally Ember would at least leave a note to say she was going to her tree, or she was off with Reid. That’s what had Sherry so worried; the lack of a note. And Ember had left her phone, which she didn’t do when she went to her tree. Maybe the phone was out of battery and she hadn’t been able to find the charger. After all, Ember tended to get overly stressed trying to find things, as impatient as she was. She probably gave up looking for the thing and left for her tree without it. The least Sherry could do was charge the phone for her.

  Even as she rumbled through the mess of items in the drawer of the bedside table, Sherry knew she was trying to convince herself Ember was okay and it wasn’t working. She had a nasty feeling in the pit of her stomach. Still, she pulled out the tangled phone charger from the back of the drawer and picked up Ember’s phone. She jammed the plug into the socket by the desk and waited for the little charging symbol to come up on screen. Instead, what appeared on the little black screen was a message saying: Phone is fully charged. Please unplug.

  Sherry frowned. Huh. So Ember hadn’t left the phone because it was out of battery. That was one theory out the window.

  Just then, the window behind the desk suddenly opened itself. Fair enough, on a windy night that might’ve been normal for those shutter-like windows. But this was the kind of window that rolled up the way. The curtains whipped wildly in the harsh October wind and a spray of yellow and orange leaves poured in on the breeze and swirled around the room. Sherry felt her heart pounding with fear in her chest and hoped to hell this was just Ricky messing with her. In the back of her mind, though, she knew it wasn’t.

  She took a step toward the window, despite the voice in her head telling her to run the other way and out the door. Something compelled her to move toward the window. She rationalised to herself that she just needed to close the window and whatever had opened it would go away. Another step forward and she lifted her trembling hands to beat back the lashing curtains. She fought one curtain away from her, and instantly leaped backward, her heart jerking like it wanted to break her ribs. Behind the billowing curtain, a dark figure stood, with eyes that glowed eerily like moonstones.

  “Who-who are you? What do you w-want?” Sherry stuttered, fear choking her like an invisible hand around her throat. How the hell had this girl gotten in? Did she climb up the wall? But that should’ve been impossible. Then again, Sherry had seen a lot of impossible stuff lately.

  “You don’t recognise me?” The girl tilted her head, and then smiled. “Oh, of course not. I’m Moonstone, one of the witches trying to kill your bloodsucking boyfriend.” The witch’s voice was cold and condescending as she stepped toward Sherry.

  Breathing rapidly, Sherry backed away, glancing behind her to the door. The witch laughed, watching her. “Oh, there’s no point in trying to run, sweetie. One of my friends is right outside the door. Another is waiting outside the window and Ginger…well, Ginger is waiting elsewhere. You’ll understand soon enough what it is we want from you.” Moonstone smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile.

  Sherry shuddered and a scream caught in her throat as another dark figure floated up outside the window. A figure with whipping black hair, streaked in colours. The door opened at her back and a girl with long, brown hair and a slim figure peeked in. Sherry froze. She was surrounded. No way to get out.

  Seeing her fear, the three witches began to giggle manically, sounding like they’d lost every bit of their twisted minds. “Come now, we won’t hurt you unless you try to resist. And…” The creepy witch with the eerie eyes, Moonstone, made a vague gesture with her hand and a small mobile phone appeared in her palm as if from thin air. “If you need more encouraging, I can get Owen on the phone and I’m sure he’d love to have an excuse to hurt your little friend. And I know you don’t want that, now do you?”

  Sherry could swear she felt her heart pause a beat at the witch’s words. Owen was working for them! He was working for the witches, and he had Ember! Oh, God, Sherry thought. She felt sick. “No, don’t hurt her!” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll come with you, just don’t hurt Ember!” She felt cold panic fluttering in her chest, but she held out her hands in surrender. The witch behind the door came into the room and took one of her wrists, while Moonstone took the other and led her to the window.

  “Why are you doing this? What do you want from us? You already made Ember Turn, and what use am I?” Sherry whimpered, trying to stall as the witches lifted her onto the windowsill between them. The rainbow-haired witch grinned darkly at her, levitating by the window. Sherry was too upset to be amazed by that.

  The floating girl grinned, and said, “It’s simple. We want the vampires dead. And you are going to encourage Ember to help us with that.”

  “But why do you want them de-ahhhhhhh!” Sherry screamed as one witch shoved her, and she was suddenly dangling thirty feet above the ground, with the witches still gripping her wrists and floating in mid-air. The ground seemed to shift and melt and sway below her as they fluttered down to the wet cement like feathers.

  Her feet hit earth and she stumbled onto her knees, the witches finally letting go of her. But not for long. She felt her arms twisted behind her back and rough rope wound round them. She squealed in pain as one witch yanked her to her feet by her bound hands and shoved her forward. Moonstone slipped a loop of rope that looked a hell of a lot like a noose around her neck and pulled it so the rope scratched against Sherry’s throat.

  “This is so that if you try to escape, the loop tightens and you choke yourself. Like a dog on a leash.” The bitch grinned evilly and tears stung Sherry’s eyes. Cold air whipped her face, but it was nothing compared to the icy storm inside her, panic and anger and fear all battling like rain and wind and sleet. She sent up a prayer for her own safety, and Ember’s, and wished for the first time that she wasn’t so pathetically human. She was a liability, but at least if she cooperated, they might not hurt Ember. Yet.

  Sherry knew Ember would never let them hurt Reid, no matter how pissed off she was at him, and when the witches figured that out too, Ember would be in danger for sure. The least Sherry could do was stall that by cooperating and hope she didn’t end up dead instead of the vampires.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ** Ember **

  Ember woke up groggily on the ground, inside a tent, and was rewarded with an instantly throbbing headache when she tried to sit up. “Ah,” she whimpered, clutching at the back of her head where it hurt most. There was huge, solid lump and her hand came away damp and sticky with blood. She stared at her red-stained hand in horror, and then memory hit her in flashes.

  She’d been following Owen into the forest, planning on just going for a walk through the forest. They been laughing and joking one minute, and the next Owen had gone silent. She’d turned to ask him what was up, and felt pain explode in the back of her head, knocking her onto the ground. Something – a branch – had yanked at her hair as she fell. When she’d hit the ground, the last thing she saw was her hair-ribbon hanging grote
squely in the dark branches of a tree, and Owen looming over her with chilling dark eyes and a monstrous grin.

  “Hey, you’re awake.”

  Ember jumped as Owen pushed his way into the tiny green tent and knelt beside her, smiling like nothing had happened and they were simply camping out. Ember scrambled back, watching the little room swirl around Owen. She wasn’t sure if she was nauseous from the dizziness and pain or from looking at Owen, the boy she’d thought was her friend, who she’d trusted and protected from Reid, who had hit her over the head and kidnapped her. But it didn’t make sense why he’d do that.

  “Why?” she asked the question out-loud, hearing the tremor in her own weak voice. She tasted blood and bile in the back of her mouth, wanted to gag and spit.

  He looked at her with wide, innocent eyes. “Why what?” Owen didn’t seem fazed by her obvious terror as she huddled in the corner as far from him as she could get in the tiny space.

  “Why did you knock me out? Why are you doing this to me?” she rasped. Oh, God, her head was throbbing. But she had to focus. She had to figure out what was going on – and then get away from Owen, get back to the school.

  Owen smiled thinly at her. “I had to knock you out; otherwise you’d know where we were. We wouldn’t want you running off and finding your way back to Reid and the other vampires.” There was a note of condescension in his voice that sparked a tiny flame of anger in Ember’s chest. She should have let Reid break his face when he’d wanted to. She should have listened to him. She’d been such an idiot.

  Ember refused to take her eyes off Owen, but at the same time she couldn’t help glancing at the gaping tent doorway. Beyond it, she could see nothing but trees and a darkening grey sky. She wondered if she could bolt and take Owen by surprise, if she’d be fast enough to get past him and out of the tent. Then a shadow passed over the doorway and she realised that whoever was working with Owen was lingering outside. Her heart was crashing into her ribs so hard it hurt, making it hard to breathe. There was a way out of this, she was sure of it; she just hadn’t thought of it yet. Damn, she thought distantly, I owe Reid the biggest apology ever.

  Owen was still talking, gesturing vaguely with his hands as he talked, crouched just inside the tent. “I really thought that I could bring you around to my side, that I could charm you into forgetting about Reid. That was why I tried to convince you we were Soulmates, used a spell to tweak your perception while you were drinking my blood and everything.” He scoffed. “Stupid of me, I realise now. I should have known that would only freak you out. And even with all those cheesy compliments and helping you with your magic and that torrid dream–” He paused, and his expression darkened. He fixed his eyes, cold and dark, on her, and she flinched.

  “That one, I’ll admit, was as much for myself as trying to turn your affections toward me. But it didn’t work, did it? No, instead of coming to me, you went to Reid – you think I didn’t know he was in that library with you that night? That I didn’t know exactly what you’d been doing in there? Getting naked with him, were you?” Owen made a disgusted sound, and despite her fury and fear, Ember felt herself blush. Insults crowded on her tongue, but she didn’t say anything.

  Her silence seemed to annoy Owen, and he leaned toward her. Ember froze, holding her breath as he draw close enough for her to see the flecks of grey and brown in his heather-purple eyes. “No,” he said softly, so softly he was almost crooning. “No, you love your precious dignity too much, your pride – you're such a prude. You wouldn’t screw him in a library. Not that it matters now, of course…” He leaned back, and Ember’s breath hitched in her throat as she exhaled.

  “What…what do you mean? What do you want from me?” she croaked.

  Owen blinked and tilted his head. “You haven’t figured it out yet? I want you to help me kill the vampires.”

  Ember stared, and something cold slithered down her spine and settled in her stomach. Suddenly, she understood. The pieces fell into place inside her head, and she breathed, “The witches. You’re working with the witches.”

  Owen smiled like a teacher who’d been given the correct answer. Ember felt sick. All this time, he’d been a bloody double agent, working for the witches and pretending like he was helping her. She should have known – somehow, she should have known. And it pissed her off that she hadn’t. Traitorous bastard, she thought, her lip curling.

  “Are you insane?” she spat, “I’m not going to help you kill the vampires. I don’t care what you do to me. They haven’t done anything wrong, and I won’t help you commit murder, Owen!” She clenched her hands into fists, anger rising. Her palms tingled, whether from the cold or her wakening magic, she couldn’t be sure, but she hoped it was the latter. She’d like to see what kind of damage she could do to Owen with her power – the witchy power he’d helped her learn to control.

  “Oh, you’re going to help us,” Owen said with such certainty it scared her. “You’ll help us kill the vampires, alright, and that includes your bloodsucking, son-of-a-bitch boyfriend, Reid Ashton.” Owen sneered, and Ember saw the flash of something horrible in his eyes. She realised she hadn’t been entirely off the mark, asking if he was insane. The feverish light in his eyes and the edge to his grin that made her think he really wasn’t quite sane after all. That terrified Ember; crazy people were unpredictable.

  But he’d insulted Reid, and flashes of her argument with him flickered in her mind. Reid had been right not to trust Owen, and she’d pushed him away because of it. Guilt and shame formed a knot in her chest. At the same time, she felt like ripping out Owen’s heart. It was his fault her and Reid had argued, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Reid decided to break up with her after this, after she’d acted like such a bitch.

  Her anger bubbled up more fiercely, making her veins sizzle. “You bastard!” she hissed, her fangs sliding out. “You must be as stupid as you are crazy. I’m not going to help you do anything!” she spat, fury blossoming in her chest. Her head was still throbbing, but she ignored the pain. She uncurled from her corner slowly, like a snake rising into a striking coil. She’d smack that damn smirk off Owen’s face – hell, she’d smack his head off his body if she could. Did she have that kind of strength now? She kind of wanted to test it and find out.

  Owen didn’t look in the least bit worried by her rage. “Oh, really?” he said mildly, “Well…what’s that I hear? Sounds like the witches are back.” Owen’s hand darted out and grabbed her wrist. She tried to pull away as he yanked her to her feet, but he was surprisingly strong, and she was momentarily dazed by another wave of dizziness. Jesus, she thought, how hard did he hit me?

  Owen pulled her out of the tent, snarling in her ear, “You may be willing to risk your life to save the vampires, but would you risk…hers?” He swung her in front of him, gripping her wrist tight, and pointed directly at a girl on the ground.

  Ember glanced at the girl, and then around her. They were in a clearing, deep in the trees where Ember had never been before. Dirt and grass stretched out the surrounding oval of shuddering pines, and darkness swarmed beyond the shivering boughs, blocking her view of anything but more trees. Overhead, the sky was a washed out shade of grey, lethargic clouds moving in over the treetops like dark slugs. There were only the sounds of the wind whispering through the branches, and the faint groan of trees rocking in the breeze. They were far from the school, and far from help.

  Disappointed and anxious, Ember turned her gaze back to the girl on the ground in the middle of the clearing. She was filthy, scratched and bruised like she’d been beaten, and she knelt on the ground with her head down. Her blonde hair was a familiar shade, but it was tangled and the ends were brown with either mud or dried blood. The poor girl was bound with rope, her hands behind her back and her ankles tied, and saw there was the glint of duct-tape over her mouth, barely visible through the curtain of hair. Horror was quick to grow inside Ember, but it wasn’t until the girl looked up that she recognised the prisoner, that she understood
Owen’s certainty that she would help him and the witches.

  With a gasp, Ember stumbled back, and felt hot tears sting her eyes. “Sherry,” she whispered, her vision blurring.

  Sherry knelt there on the ground with a nasty gash across her left cheekbone, dried blood running in rivulets down one side of her face. There was bruise forming on her forehead, and one on the right side of her jaw. That wasn’t what tore Ember’s heart like a spear, made her throat close on a harsh sob and her lungs to burn with fury. What did that, what really hurt, was the haunted, agonised look in Sherry’s green eyes. They weren’t their usual bright emerald green, but a dull, helpless moss green. It was like they’d kicked dirt into her soul to kill her brilliance.

  Ember started forward mindlessly, desperate to help her friend, but Owen still held her wrist and he twisted it to stop her. She grunted in pain, struggling against the grasp. The witches, stood around Sherry, surrounding her like vultures, and let out bitter, cold laughs that rang in Ember’s ears.

  “Let her go! Let her go! Jesus Christ, let Sherry go! She isn’t part of this! Please!” Ember shrieked, pulling against Owen desperately, ignoring how the twisting of her wrist made a sharp pain go up her arm. Everything around her seemed to be spinning, and the throbbing agony in her head made her want to curl up and pass out.

  Owen tugged her wrist hard and she toppled to the ground, off balance and dizzy. She knew she was crying but she couldn’t stop, couldn’t take her eyes off her beaten friend. Owen strode over to Sherry where she sat in the dirt and stroked a hand over her tangled hair.

  “Don’t you bloody touch her!” Ember snarled, feeling a fierce heat growing in her chest and spreading through her body. Her hands felt hot and stinging, and there was a bubbling in her chest. She got to her feet and tried again to get to her friend, but the witches moved quickly to restrain her, laughing in her ears as they held her back, stopping her from ripping Owen apart for doing this to Sherry. The bastard was going to pay for this.