Malice (15 page)

The way he was looking at me sealed the words up inside.

His expression was full of regret…but I had no idea why. Or maybe I did know. Maybe he regretted that one stupid, stupid kiss had ruined everything.

I dropped my head as I felt tears burning behind my eyes. I’d lost count of how many times I’d mentally berated myself. I did want things to go back to how they were. I just didn’t know how to get there. I wasn’t even sure if we
could
get there. Right now, I felt as though I had derailed our entire friendship.

Going back to how things were would mean that I’d have to go back to pretending I didn’t have feelings for him. But now that he knew, they would be so much harder to hide. I wasn’t even sure if I
could
hide them.

“Sammy,” Tristan said quietly. “Look at me.”

I took a step back from him and shook my head. I couldn’t look at him. I could barely move. I felt as though I was barely holding myself together. One wrong word, one wrong move and I felt as though I would break. My breath caught in my throat, as if Tristan had managed to suck all of the air out of the room. The burning behind my eyes intensified. I blinked hard, hoping to chase the tears away.

Actually, I wished Tristan would just go away. I couldn’t bear to add any more humiliation to my repertoire.

He finally took a step toward the door. The movement put him only inches from me. Before I could take another step back, his hands were encircling my waist. He pulled me into a hug, without saying another word.

My arms reflexively went around his waist.

“I hate seeing you upset,” he said as he nuzzled my hair.

The hug was confusing. It felt like something somewhere between friendship and something more. He kept his arms around me for a long time. I allowed myself to rest against his chest. It was so broad; I was momentarily distracted with the rigid muscles I felt under my palm. Given his size, I’d assumed they were there but now I had proof. I realized that a guy of Tristan’s size could be intimidating if he were anyone other than his sweet self.

His body pressed against mine was bliss and it was torture. I felt drenched in his warmth and his scent. I didn’t dare lift my head from his chest. If I did, it would put his face—his lips—only inches from mine. Not that I would make the same mistake twice, but I wanted to avoid the temptation.

I hastily loosened my hold on him to find that he was the one not letting go. He pulled me back in and confusion clouded my senses. I decided to give myself a few more seconds.

My eyes flooded with tears. He might’ve thought he was making things better. Instead, he was making it so much harder. This was a taste of something I wanted badly but now knew I couldn’t have because he didn’t feel the same way.

Finally, I pulled in a deep breath and pushed myself away from him.

He sighed.

“We’ll talk later?” I asked in a too-bright voice.

“Sure.” I could feel his gaze raking over me but the doorknob needed my full attention as I fidgeted with it.

He took a few steps away, before I followed him into the hallway. “Tristan?”

He turned to me, a curious look on his face. “Yeah?”

“Were you in the woods the other night? Near the clearing by the creek?” I asked.

He looked confused for a moment. “No. I haven’t been out there for a long time.”

“Oh.” I wasn’t sure why I’d asked.

“Why?” He was still rooted to the same spot.

“No reason.”

“Do you still go out there?” He looked surprised at the thought.

“Not often,” I hesitantly admitted.

“Good,” he said with a frown. “If you do go out there, promise me something?”

I raised my eyebrows in question.

“Don’t go out there alone.”

“That won’t be a problem,” I agreed.

I didn’t see Tristan to the door. He let himself out. Once he was gone I couldn’t decide if his visit had made things better or worse. It had been so much easier
before
. At least when my feelings were my secret, I’d had no reason to feel self-conscious about them.

Now I didn’t feel like I simply wore my heart on my sleeve, but more like on a flashing neon sign over my head. There was just no getting away from that.

With Levi gone we had the house to ourselves. After one of our busiest summers ever, I was looking forward to it. I enjoyed nights like this. They didn’t happen often. I padded down the stairs to Mom’s office. I tapped lightly on the doorframe.

“Mom?”

She was seated at her table. Her head snapped up at the sound of my voice.

“Is Tristan gone?”

“He is,” I said as I wandered into her room.

I thought it was odd that she hadn’t noticed the tension between us. It was another reminder of just how preoccupied she’d been lately.

“I wanted to talk to you about Magnolia.”

My body felt heavy as I dropped into the chair across from her. “What about her?”

“That list has my insides tied up in knots,” Mom admitted. “As I said earlier, it’s possible that I’m being paranoid. On the other hand, I’d rather err on the side of caution when it comes to Magnolia’s safety.”

“What are you going to do? Have you decided?”

Mom pulled in a breath and gave me a curt nod. “I have. I have a friend whom I think can help.”

“You think?”

“She’s a childhood friend. She’s always been very gifted with her spell casting. I am positive that she could bind Magnolia’s powers. I also know that she would be discreet.”

“You haven’t talked to her yet?”

“I have not. This, I believe, is something that should only be discussed in person.”

I was silent because I really had no idea what to say.

Mom took my silence for disapproval. “I just need to know that she’s safe. I think my friend, Myra, can help with that.”

“What are you waiting for?” I wondered.

“I just made the decision tonight. I heard back from Eleanor Lebeau,” she quietly admitted.

“And?” I asked, wondering how the two were related.

“She was very professional. She pointed out that a crumpled piece of paper is hardly incriminating evidence. I felt a bit silly for bringing it in to her. She told me in no uncertain terms that the matter was closed. On the other hand, no matter how insignificant Mrs. Lebeau feels it is, my daughter’s name was on that list,” she said firmly. “There’s a reason for that list. Even if I don’t know what it is, I have a hunch it’s nothing good. My mother always told me that when in doubt, I should listen to my intuition. I believe that Samara. Intuition is a powerful thing. Don’t ever ignore it.”

“Your intuition is saying there’s a problem.”

“It’s screaming it, actually,” Mom sheepishly admitted. 

“At least we don’t have to worry about Levi anymore,” I said hopefully.

“He told me he was leaving town. But I don’t know that for a fact. Nor can I guarantee that he won’t come back.” She shuddered. “I can’t believe I had that man in our home. If it turns out that he was responsible for anything bad happening to Bree or Jude…”

“Do you think something bad happened to them?” I asked. Until that moment, I had never really let that thought take hold. It seemed so implausible.

“I honestly don’t know. But until I hear from Myra, I am not letting Magnolia out of my sight. If that means she misses school for a few days, so be it. I’ll know she’s safe and I won’t have to worry about her being found out before I can take care of this.”

Mom looked weary. I wished there was something I could do to help.

“How long do you think it will be before you hear from your friend?”

“It’s hard to say. She travels, using her…abilities to help people. I left a message for her so I’m sure she’ll reach me when she can.”

“If there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.”

She gave me a strained smile. “All I want you to do is take care of yourself. Just because your name wasn’t scribbled down doesn’t mean that I’m not worried about you as well.”

I wanted to blow her off but I couldn’t. What if Finola’s speculation was accurate? What if Levi was somehow messed up with the Striga? If that was the case, then none of us were safe.

~*~*~

By the weekend, Mom still hadn’t heard back from Myra. The three couples with reservations had checked in but she’d stopped taking any more reservations for the time being. I knew she had to be concerned if she was putting the family business on hold.

I had been hovering over Magnolia the last few days. She’d accepted her reprieve from school with a smile on her face. She was too young to really question it. Mom had told her that she felt like spending time with her and that had been that.

As for me, Mom had pretty much insisted I get out of the house for the afternoon. I realized my hovering was probably wearing on her frazzled nerves.

Not that long ago I would’ve walked down the road to Tristan’s.

Daphne was out with Xavier’s best friend, and her sometimes boyfriend, Derek. Finola, fortunately for me, was free.

I had asked if she’d be willing to help me with a potion or two. I didn’t have anything in particular in mind but she’d readily agreed.

Now we were standing in her kitchen. Bottled jars of herbs and other ingredients were scattered across the countertop. Her cast iron potion pot rested on the stove. She scanned the ingredient list and I looked at it over her shoulder. It looked complicated. It reminded me why I never bothered with potions.

I could barely boil noodles.

This was a bad idea.

“I’m not so sure about this,” I said to Finola. Potion making was a delicate affair. Deep down I just knew that not only didn’t I have the patience, I didn’t have the talent.

She turned to me, quirking an eyebrow. She didn’t look particularly surprised.

Our intrinsic magic had its limits. Spells and potions could be used to intensify everything our intrinsic magic could do. It was also capable of so much more.

Spells versus potions was simply a matter of preference. Potions were more powerful, spells more practical. To use a potion, you, of course, had to have it with you. As long as you could memorize a spell, you carried it with you everywhere.

When catching wraiths, I used a combination of the two. I placed a potion at the bottom of a charmed jar. The potion attracted the wraith but I said a simple spell for added reassurance. The jar itself was charmed, making it unbreakable from inside or out.

That was pretty much the extent of my potion-making, spell-casting abilities.

I must’ve looked overwhelmed as my eyes drifted to the counter yet again.

“We could practice charming objects instead,” she offered.

“Or we could go get a smoothie.”

“You are hopeless,” she said with a laugh. “You’re never going to get any better if you don’t practice.”

“I know. I just realized potions aren’t my thing. I’ve been practicing manifesting though. I’ve gotten pretty good at it.” The last few evenings I hadn’t wanted to leave the house. It just didn’t feel right leaving Mom and Magnolia home alone. Instead I’d spent time in the backyard manifesting to my heart’s content.

“I think you’re on to something. If you don’t enjoy doing something, you probably won’t become good at it. It makes more sense to focus on something you enjoy.” She turned away from me and began putting the ingredients back into the cupboard designated specifically for potion making ingredients.

When she turned around, she gave me a sheepish look. “I never told you that Tristan asked me to help him with potion making, did I?” It was obvious by the look on her face that she knew she hadn’t.

“What? Tristan? Mr. Anti-Magic?” I asked in disbelief.

She nodded. “It’s true. He did.”

Wasn’t that just interesting? He didn’t like me using my intrinsic magic but potion making was acceptable?

“He asked me to help him but he also asked me not to tell you. I told him no, I wouldn’t keep secrets from you,” Finola admitted.

“But you did keep it from me,” I pointed out.

She shrugged guiltily. “He’d already asked and it wasn’t like he could take the request back. I felt bad that I didn’t tell you he’d asked. But now I feel bad that I told when he didn’t want me to.”

“Did he say why he wanted help with it?”

“No. I figured the less I knew, especially since he wanted it kept a secret, the better,” she admitted. “I didn’t ask any questions. I just told him that I couldn’t keep secrets from you. He told me to forget he asked.” She rolled her eyes. “As if I could.”

“When was this?”

“This past summer.”

“Well…huh.” My thoughts were jumbled. The request didn’t sound like Tristan at all. It was befuddling.

“Are you going to tell him I told you?” Her brow was creased in concern.

“No. Though I’m dying to ask him about it, I won’t.”

“Thank you. Do you really want to get a smoothie?”

I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. We could just hang out here.”

“We can do that for a while. I’m meeting Alex tonight though,” she said apologetically.

“That’s fine.” I followed her to her bedroom. She closed the door, cutting off the sound of her two younger sisters squabbling.

“How are things with Alex?”

She hesitated which I wasn’t expecting her to do.

“Fin? Is something bothering you?”

I thought for sure I was going to have to pry it out of her. That wasn’t the case. I realized that whatever was bothering her was
really
bothering her if she was so willing to talk about it.

“If I tell you, do you promise not to tell a soul?” she asked.

“I promise,” I said seriously. Finola had never made that kind of request of me before. Daphne had, many times. It had always been some not-so-secret secret usually involving her latest crush or some other useless gossip.

We settled onto the floor, our backs leaning against the bed.

“I was at Alex’s last night,” she said quietly. “His Mom didn’t know I was there.” She took a deep breath and my mind was spinning, trying to figure out where she could possibly be going with this. “A rep from The Council showed up to see him.”

She paused again and I fought for some patience. When she began fidgeting with a button on her shirt I prodded her along. “Someone from The Council wanted to see Alex?” Was he in trouble? Was that why she looked so distraught? Did
he
have something to do with Bree and Jude’s disappearance?

“Like I said, she didn’t know I was there. When she walked into the room she said that someone was there to question him about seeing Bree’s spirit in the cemetery last week. Then she saw me and she completely tried to backtrack. But I know what she said. There was no taking it back.”

My hands flew to my temples, as if the amount of information she’d just given me might be enough to make my head implode.

“Alex saw Bree’s
spirit
?” I asked incredulously. Finola nodded and I didn’t have to point out to her that in order for a Necromancer to see someone’s spirit, that person had to be…
dead
. “Last week?
Before
she disappeared?”

She put her hand up to her mouth and nodded, as if she didn’t dare say anymore.

“You know that’s impossible, right?” I asked.

“I know,” she whispered between her fingers.

“Was he making it up?”

She leaned closer to me; as if afraid her walls had ears. “His mom didn’t want me to know any of this but since I’d already overheard, he explained it to me.”

This ought to be good.

Or very, very bad.

“You know that Necromancers practice in the cemetery, right?”

I was vaguely aware of this, so I nodded.

“Alex was there, talking with the spirit of his great-great-grandfather. I guess that it’s common for Necromancer’s spirits to stick around for awhile. They often guide future generations. Because of what they are, their spirits tend to be able to linger longer without…issues.”

I knew she meant that they weren’t as likely to turn into wraiths. I was tempted to hurry her along. When she was nervous she had a tendency to ramble. I fought for a little bit of patience instead. Finally, it paid off.

“That’s when he saw Bree. He said it completely freaked him out. Not that he saw a spirit, but that he saw
Bree’s
. She didn’t speak with him. I didn’t know this but when someone first perishes, it’s not uncommon for them to be disoriented. I guess it makes sense since dying must be pretty traumatic. Who wouldn’t be disoriented? So he saw her, and then she vanished. He was freaked out because he assumed something had happened to Bree. I mean, it only makes sense right? So he thought she must’ve been in an accident or something.” She stopped to catch her breath. “He went home and told his parents who immediately called Bree’s parents. Bree was just fine. In fact, she was home. But they demanded to know why Alex’s mom was so concerned so she told them.”