Spellcaster (18 page)

“She did the spell better than
you
ever did.”

“You really want to question my abilities?
You’re
the one with a friend in the hospital,” Megan snapped, but then her self-assured demeanor returned as she smoothed out the front of her chiffon shirt. “But actually, I should thank you. That was all I needed to know
you
were helping her out. Came in really handy tonight—I did a little cloaking spell so you wouldn’t be able to see my aura. Boo!” she exclaimed, holding her palms up and putting a false expression of surprise on her face.

So that’s where the hole in my empathy was coming from… .

Megan clasped her hands together in delight. “Oh! Tonight worked out so well for me. You couldn’t have given me a better present, really.”

“So Brendan Salinger pulls a pump and dump on you, and you’re still so hard up that you made his girlfriend’s cousin sick? That’s a new level of pathetic, you know.” She flinched when I deliberately used such crass terms to describe her time with Brendan. I never spoke like that—it was boorish—but I did it for effect. And it worked; I could still feel the sting of my comment rolling off her narrow shoulders.

“You’re so myopic, Angelique. Open your eyes. This has nothing to do with Brendan for me and you know it.” Megan shot back.
She’s lying.
“You mentioned Sonneillon, so I take it you went to the library and did your little good-girl witch investigation? Really, Angelique, you’re so damn
precious.
” Megan’s voice was heavy with disdain as she clasped her hands together, cooing as she spoke.

“You know what, I’m sick of this conversation.” I leaned forward, glaring at my one-time friend. “Consider the witty banter portion of this evening over. What the hell is it going to take for you to remove whatever hex it is that you put on Ashley?”

“You know what I want,” Megan replied plainly, holding her thin wrist up and dragging her index finger across the blue veins. “I want blood. Specifically, I want
her
blood. Originally I was just going to make Emma collapse tonight, get what I needed and leave. Maybe if I was feeling charitable, I would break the hex. But now that I know it’s her
cousin’s
hair clip I have, not Emma’s, this is way better.” Megan gloated, a sinister smile on her face. “I saw the protective way she was guarding that little girl. Face it, Angelique, I have you guys right where I want you. So, I figure Emma can meet me, oh, once a month to make sure I’m never out of the elixir.”

I couldn’t even pretend to hide my revulsion. “You can’t demand that! She’s not some kind of ATM for blood!” I cried in shock. The thought made my stomach churn. “What person can handle being bled once a month? Or are you truly that crazy?”

“She can take iron pills. What?” Megan blinked innocently. “It’s that, or I keep her little ginger unconscious indefinitely.” She crossed her arms triumphantly. A plan began to form in my mind—not much of one, but a stop-gap to at least help out Ashley. Being magically unconscious can’t be good for your health.

“I know it’s a challenging thing to ask a crazy person, but try to be reasonable, Megan. She won’t agree to anything while you’re holding Ashley’s well-being over her head,” I argued. “You need to break the hex.
Tonight.
If you agree—and give us the clip—then you’ll get a nice little sippy cup of her blood. Consider it a one-time donation, you vampire.”
I’ll give her fake blood; she’ll never know the difference.

“Are you kidding me? No dice,” Megan scoffed, pulling her stringy hair out of her face.

“Then no deal,” I replied firmly, crossing my arms. “It’s not like you’ve got a ton of goodwill to go on here, Megan. I sure as hell won’t vouch for you. And I come from a pretty damn powerful family. You know I do. We’ll break your hex, and then you’re left with nothing. In fact,” I added, feeling confident, “you
know
we can do it. I’ll drag my mother into this. My aunt. My cousin. Do you really want that many powerful witches on your bony ass? I just want Ashley better—now.”

Megan’s charcoal-coated eyes widened as she realized that what I was saying was true.

“Okay, fine. Deal. I have a few conditions, though,” she said, a menacing smile crawling slowly across her face. “First condition—tonight, we swap. You give me a little sample, I do a test right in front of you—and if it’s legit, you get to break the hex.”

“Fine.” I shrugged casually.
Damn it.
At least I knew I could count on Brendan to practically hack open an artery for Emma.

Then a satisfied smile crept across Megan’s face. “I’ll get the rest of what I need tomorrow.
I
need to be the one to spill the blood for the spell to work. Don’t think you’re showing up with some barbecue sauce in a cup. And—” she paused for effect “—it has to be Emma.”

“You just need the blood of true lovers, idiot. It doesn’t have to be her.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Megan sneered. “And I know Brendan probably would step in and happily take Emma’s place. I’m sure he has a total hero complex where she’s concerned.”

“Sounds like someone’s a little bitter,” I observed casually.

“Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, bitch,” Megan practically screamed at me, her hand gripping the edge of her marble seat.
Yep, definitely hit a nerve there.
Then she took a deep breath and calmed down. “We wouldn’t even be in this situation if you had been a good friend and supported me.”

“In forcing someone to love you? Are you mental? That goes against everything Wicca is about.”

“Don’t get so holier-than-thou. You did the attraction spell, remember?”

“True. And even then, his interest in you was reluctant at best, wouldn’t you agree?” I raised an eyebrow at Megan as she gave me a dirty look, her thin face pinched up in disgust.
Wow, evil
really
is a bad look on her.
She was once cute. Still, I couldn’t resist provoking her a little more. “It’s a moot point now anyway, and you know it. Brendan would have just dumped your ass the minute he met Emma, anyway—no spell can compete with that.” I smiled triumphantly.

“Whatever.” Megan dismissed me with the weak go-to comeback she always used when she couldn’t think of anything clever to say. “Look, I just want
her
blood. I want payback. That bitch gave me a black eye and used my own spell against me.”

“And this has nothing to do with you wanting a little scorned-woman vengeance on the one girl who locked Brendan down?” I needled her again, but she just casually held out her scrawny hand, inspecting her nails. They looked brittle.

“Sure, that’s entertaining the hell out of me,” Megan replied coolly, twisting the gold cuff on her thin wrist. “But
I’m
not the one who still wants him.”

Liar. You’d take him in a heartbeat.
But something she said didn’t sit right with me.

“What are you talking about?
You’re
not the one who still—”

“Whatever. Nothing. Look, don’t you have a little plan to put into action?” Megan barked, dropping her hand to stare coldly at me. “Go get me my blood and tell her to get ready to meet me tomorrow. The little wannabe witch can spend the rest of the day in bed recovering and crying,” Megan cooed, pretending to sulk. “Poor baby.”

“Don’t feel too bad for her, Megan—I doubt she’ll be alone in that bed,” I retorted coolly, and she just glared at me. I would have been embarrassed at how shamelessly I was baiting her if Megan didn’t deserve it so much.

“Give me your number, and meet me in thirty minutes,” I ordered, standing up and handing her my phone. “You’re giving me Ashley’s clip
tonight.
”

“Fine. But make it two hours. I have something to take care of.”

“Two hours?” My jaw dropped, my mouth agape. “You want to leave Ashley unconscious for two more hours? You’re a sadist.”

“What, she’ll be fine.” Megan shrugged. “She only convulsed because the spell was originally meant for Emma. No harm done.”

“How do you look at yourself in the mirror anymore?” I asked, less to be insulting and more because I was curious. How did she go from being my friend to this hollow, evil shell in front of me?

“How do you
not
take advantage of something like this?” Megan said, and the honest way she spoke surprised me. “Think about it—all the power that just one little bloodletting can give you. Every spell I do will be a success. Anything I want is mine for the taking. No one’s going to hand you anything in life. I thought
you
would understand that, of all people.” She paused, looking at me critically. “Why haven’t you taken advantage of it?”

“Because it’s wrong,” I shot back. “It’s so wrong.”

“You’re so sanctimonious,” Megan said, rolling her eyes. “It all evens out in the end. Anyway, two hours. My neighborhood. Come alone. And don’t even think of screwing me over,
Angela.
” Megan stressed my given name, ridicule dripping from her voice as she programmed her number into my phone.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,
Meggie.
” I repeated her mocking tone, using the childhood nickname she hated. Megan returned my icy stare as I grabbed my phone back.

“You better not, because things will get
much
worse for your little BFF if you do,” Megan vowed, adding, “and tell her she better have my athame. I’d love to see the look of fear on her face when I use it to slice open her skin.”

“You’re disgusting. Two hours,” I ordered before storming away toward the pizzeria where Brendan was waiting. I knew part of the curse was that Archer be reincarnated into Hottie McHotterson, as Emma would say, but damn, the boy didn’t have to act on it all the time. Part of me wanted to wring his neck for ever being such a tart. And another part of me dreaded delivering the news that his past career of slutting around Manhattan was the root cause of this whole problem. As irritating as
I
found Brendan, I knew his feelings for Emma were genuinely pure, and the news would devastate him.

I collected my thoughts as I walked the two blocks north on Lexington to the pizzeria, where I found the boys in the back. Brendan was sitting with Cisco and his boyfriend, and one other guy who looked vaguely familiar. They were clustered around a lacquered wooden table littered with red plastic trays, pizza crusts, grease-soaked napkins and half-f wax cups of fountain soda. But I could hear them before I could see them—they were loudly recapping their victory and fist-bumping every chance they got. The empath in me was hit with such a display of he-man testosterone swagger I was worried I’d feel like trying to write my name in the snow.

“Hey, guys, congrats on, um, fighting. Yeah,” I announced myself awkwardly, not really sure what to say. I just needed to get Brendan out of there. Of course, he had to be a perfect gentleman and stand up and offer me his chair, going to another table to pull over three more red plastic chairs. Pain in the ass.

“Angelique, sit down. Where’s Emma?” Cisco asked warmly, just as the other kid with stupid Brendan-esque hair asked, “Where’s Ashley?”

“Sorry, I can’t stay. Neither can you, Brendan. We have to go,” I said bluntly. No time to be pleasant—we were on the clock.

“What’s wrong?” Brendan asked suspiciously, dropping the red chair he was in the middle of pulling over. I sighed as he casually leaned against a worn mural of Italy on the tile wall behind him.
Might as well spill some of it, it’s not a secret that Ashley left the dance in an ambulance.

“Ashley got sick and she’s at the hospital. We don’t know what’s wrong. Emma’s with her, but Brendan, we should go.”

As everyone started asking questions like “Is she okay?” and “What happened?” the black-haired kid stood and instantly said, “I’ll come with you guys.”

“No, um—no, we should just go,” I stammered, wishing Brendan could read minds, instead of just standing there with a worried look on his face. And then I had a flash of inspiration.

“Brendan, let’s go. I have to meet up with Emma’s friend from the park in a little bit.”

Brendan grabbed his hoodie off the back of his chair, his backpack off the floor and flew out the door without saying goodbye to anyone, leaving me running after him and the table of guys staring after us, confused.

Once we were outside, Brendan whirled around, panic in his eyes. “Where is he? Where’s her attacker? Is Ashley really in the hospital? Where’s Emma?”

“Emma’s fine, she’s at Lenox Hill with Ash— Brendan! Wait up!” I called as he started off toward the hospital. I ran after him, grabbing his elbow and pulling him back to walk at my pace.

“There are a few things you need to know before you see Emma.”

“What’s going on? Did— No, are you lying to me? Is Emma hurt?” Brendan asked suspiciously, worry creasing his forehead as he picked up his pace again.

“No, she’s fine—for now. But… Oh, damn it, Brendan, stop walking so fast!” I huffed, losing my breath trying to keep up with him. I grabbed his elbow and pulled him down a side street, forcing him—with some difficultly—to sit on a stoop.