Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2) (17 page)

Raven lets out a relieved sigh. “So if he doesn’t go to the house, then he won’t die.”

I glance at Kacie and see the worry clouding her eyes. She and I both know that it’s never that easy.

“I don’t like that look you two just exchanged. Spill.”

I run my hand through my hair a few times until I’m sure it’s sticking straight up from my abuse. “It’s a bit more complicated than that…” The image of Daniel’s sightless eyes fills my mind, and I trail off, unable to continue.

“Until Tracy is moved on or exorcised, Daniel could be in danger,” Kacie says, clutching my hand. “If
she
even is the danger.”

“I don’t understand. If you saw him dead at the house, then if we keep him away, it won’t happen. R-right?” Raven’s voice hitches.

“The future is always in motion, even the tiniest change can have vast consequences,” I reply, meeting her stricken gaze. “The Butterfly Effect. Heard of it?”

Raven tips her head. “Sort of.”

“It’s a chaos theory in physics. The smallest thing can have catastrophic effects down the line.”

“But you’re talking hours or a day or so, not years or centuries.”

“Each decision, each action we make affects the future. I’m pretty sure I saw Daniel in the sorority house. But that was a frozen moment in time, continuing down a certain path. We don’t know what that path is, what decisions led to his death. If we make different choices, he could still die, only somewhere else.”

“It doesn’t matter. We could talk about it forever and still never understand a premonition. We need to protect Daniel. Raven, you need to stay here. Put up a protective circle and keep him in it until we take care of Tracy,” Kacie says, hugging Samson to her chest. The cat doesn’t fight. Instead it relaxes against her, letting out a loud, soothing purr.

“Good idea,” I agree.

“Who are you taking instead of Daniel?” Raven asks.

“Mom told Blake earlier that he was muscle tonight. I thought it an odd phrase at the time, but now it makes perfect sense. Let’s get everyone back in here. We’re running out of time, and between my premonition and Mom’s vision, we have lots of lives to save tonight.”

Even in the darkness, the striped tent looks ominous. Wind gusts, sending a ripple through less secured sections. The back of my neck prickles, and I feel like I’m being watched. I glance around. No curious faces, no movement in the bushes around the house. We seem to be alone. Covered by the tent, the house looks like a carnival attraction, a funhouse, only there’s no fun waiting inside.

We watch the house in silence from the relative safety of Blake’s pickup. There are only three of us: Kacie, Blake, and me. Everyone else stayed behind after some bitter arguing. Rebecca and Carl would just be potential casualties. We don’t need extra cannon fodder… that’s my job. They stayed behind at my house to help protect Daniel along with Raven.

Two dark sedans pull up behind us‌—‌the exorcism team and Mr. Kincaid. Showtime.

The moment I open the door, Samson and Delilah leap to the ground. My familiars refused to stay behind by attaching themselves to my jeans with their claws. I’ve always been taught to listen to one’s familiar, so their worry was misplaced. I join Blake and Kacie on the sidewalk, and we face the demon house together. Or would that be the demon inside the house?

The air is heavy with negative energy, and for a brief moment I wonder what it would be like to be oblivious like so many other people. I take in a deep breath and almost choke on the thick air. Everything is so quiet. Other than the ambient noise of the nearby freeway, it’s as though time has stopped, waiting to see what will happen.

Blake shakes like a dog. “Damn, the air is heavy tonight.” He meets my gaze, and I have to fight not to look away. “Something bad…”

Bad. Well, he should be an expert. I shared the worst night of my life with Blake almost five years ago. What happened… it wasn’t his fault, I know that. But every time I look at him I see…
Stop!
I won’t make it through tonight if I give Tracy more fodder to use against me. Putting Blake and me together for this was a bad idea. What was Mom thinking?

“The longer we stand out here, the worse it will be,” I say, my eyes returning to the tented house. “She’s waiting.”

Mom runs to my side. “They’re here. The ones I foresaw are already inside.”

As though on cue, a howling scream rips through the night, shattering the stillness. Anguish and raw fear. Goosebumps follow a shiver that races down my arms.

“We’re all going in together,” Mr. Kincaid says in a high-pitched tone I’ve never heard from him before. “There’s no time for anything else. Blake, help me rescue the civilians, get them outside.”

Blake nods. “You got it.”

The Comanche tribal elder steps forward, and Kacie throws her arms around his neck before he can speak.

“Chief Ken, it’s so good to see you again!”

Ken? I thought the chief’s name was Diving Eagle…

“Little Kassandra?” He holds her out at arms-length. “My dear, you have grown into a beautiful and powerful young woman.”

“Thanks to you and your help when I needed it most.” She backs away, a blush blossoming across her cheeks.

I’m guessing based on her expression that this is the chief who helped her with her ghost cowboy. I still can’t believe she endured a twisted ghost stalker for so long before finding help.

“Friends,” the chief says, bowing his head. “The exorcism team is here as a last resort. This spirit has already been banished once, and after speaking with Rebecca, I believe it is not in anyone’s best interest to exorcise her. She needs to be moved on, not just for her salvation but to keep this from repeating again in the future.”

“She is dangerous and too powerful for her own good,” Mom says, her wide eyes never leaving the tented house. “But she is also suffering greatly. Use that suffering to your advantage. Empathize.”

My heart pounds so hard I can feel the beat in my throat. Without a word, I slip the blackberry wreath over my head while fingering the herbal pouch in my pocket.

Pastor Emilio clears his throat. “Our main concern is the safety of the people inside and you three.” He motions at Kacie, Blake, and me. “If things get out of hand, you’ll need to leave so the adults can deal with it.”

I can’t hide my glare. “I appreciate your concern, Pastor, but we are trained to handle situations like these. This isn’t a demon you can send back to Hell. This is a misguided person.” This is exactly why I hate it when the adults get involved, especially those without
talent.

“Now, Logan, we wouldn’t be acting responsibly if—”

The chief cuts him off. “You underestimate these teenagers. Their spiritual energy is strong.” He turns to us with a grim look. “We will defer to you.”

“Ken, that’s irrespon—”

“No, it isn’t. Spirituality has little to do with age,” the chief says, refusing to back down. “I know you are new to Circle affairs, but you must become accustomed to allowing the members to do their duty.”

Pastor Emilio rounds on my mother. “How can you serve your son up to potential slaughter?”

Mom closes her eyes, and I know she’s praying to the Goddess for strength. “Emilio, I appreciate your concern. I’m concerned as well, but Logan and the Circle members, they’re professionals. This is what they do. You must look beyond age to talent. Now while we have argued, Tracy had more time to torture innocents.”

Blake strides to the tent flap. “It’s time.” His voice holds the authority of an alpha werewolf, one who will one day lead his pack. Even the adults are compelled to obey. He disappears through the opening. Taking Kacie’s hand, I pull her through with me, assuming the exorcism team will follow.

Chapter Twenty-One — Trespassers

Chapter Twenty-One

Trespassers

Kacie

As we enter the house, I’m blinded. It’s so dark in here, no ambient light‌—‌the tent blocks out the moonlight and reflections from nearby streetlamps. Something crashes upstairs, followed by thudding footsteps, then silence again. My bracelet dances on my wrist, and I have to calm my breathing to overcome the innate fear of the dark… of things that go bump in the night. Another loud crash. Lots of things are going bump here tonight. A flashlight flares to life, lighting our immediate vicinity. Debris litters the floor, as though a storm went through destroying everything in its path. I suppose it did‌—‌a supernatural storm.

“Thanks.” I take the flashlight from Blake, and illuminate him while he pulls another from a small backpack.

More flashlight beams brighten the foyer, as everyone gathers to survey the scene. Gasps, bobbing flashlights, and a softly muttered curse. I take a few steps in, shining my flashlight on the ground so I can avoid the debris. My steps are silent in my hiking boots. Blake joins me, making no attempt at stealth. He kicks and shoves the bigger pieces aside, clearing a path to the door within seconds. Another loud
thud
sounds from upstairs. I shine my light on the staircase, almost dropping it when I see red. The once cream-colored carpet is now crimson on the bottom steps. Gulping, I shine the light further up the stairs. Red continues as far as my beam reaches. My stomach drops. So much blood.

“It’s not blood,” Blake murmurs. “Mostly anyway. I do smell fresh blood, but not enough to kill someone. More like an injury bleeding.”

I shake a bit from relief. “Thank God for your nose. What is it?”

“Tomato sauce or soup or something. How the hell did that get on the stairs?”

I don’t bother answering his question. It doesn’t matter anyway. Maybe Tracy decided to move from flying objects to painting the house with food.

Or… “Oh, no. Please don’t tell me these guys broke in here to add to our pretend prank.”

Logan lets out a noise that sounds like a growl. “I think you’re right about the prank gone wrong. Maybe we should leave the punks to their fate.”

Mr. Kincaid steps forward, shining his light on the red stairs. “Can you tell how many people are here and where they are?”

“Nah, the whole house smells like people.” Blake shrugs. “My nose isn’t that good. These girls use so much damn perfume.” He sniffs again and lets out a light sneeze. “Makes it hard to differentiate smells.”

“Noise is coming from upstairs,” Logan says, glaring at the staircase like it’s the enemy instead of a ghost. “Think everyone’s up there?”

“I can carry you if you need it,” Blake says as though it’s the most normal thing in the world… to offer to carry someone upstairs.

“It’s really the down I’m worried about. With my knee as bad as it is…”

Deafening crashes followed by a low moan echoes from further inside, this time downstairs. I thought she’d already destroyed everything‌—‌what did she break this time?

“I-I can’t…” the pastor’s assistant mutters as she inches back toward the door.

“Rosalina, stop.” Pastor Emilio’s voice is sharp, and she halts the moment he speaks. “You can fall apart later when this is over. Right now we have a job to do.”

Mr. Kincaid moves forward, sweeping his flashlight beam around the foyer. “We need to split up.” He pauses when another loud crash sounds from somewhere down the hall. “Blake, Kacie, you go upstairs with Ken. The rest of us will check down here.” He glances at Blake. “Get the trespassers out to the front lawn. Don’t worry about them beyond that. Kacie may need you.”

“Um, I volunteer to watch them outside,” Rosalina says after a lingering look at the pastor. “I think I’ll be more help out there than in here.”

The pastor nods. “Good idea. Go on outside and wait.”

Rosalina doesn’t wait a moment longer. She races to the door almost tripping over the tent flap on the way out. The door swings on its hinges before slamming shut, shuddering in its frame. I cross my arms over my chest waiting for another sign from Tracy. Only silence. My fingers dig into my upper arms. For some reason the silence is more unnerving than the crashes and screams.

“You ready?” Blake asks, placing his hand on my shoulder.

“I hope so.”

“I’ll go first. Stay close behind me.”

“Wait!” Logan grabs Blake’s arm. “Take care of
her.
” He stares at Blake, his expression far too dark for the situation. And why did he put so much stress on the word her? Seconds tick by as they continue to stare each other. Something’s going on between them, and I can’t help but wonder if this might explain Logan’s aversion to werewolves.