Rush (19 page)

“She tried to say something to me, but
she couldn’t make any sound and I couldn’t read her lips.”

He stopped walking to stare at me. “She
actually tried to talk to you?”

“Yeah. She got really frustrated when I
couldn’t tell what she was saying.” And now I had to deliver the big news. “Max,
she asked for you tonight.”

He frowned, his stare growing even more
intent. “Me? She asked for me by name?”

“Yes. I even asked her if I had it right
and she nodded.”

“Weird.”

I gave an anxious laugh. “If you think
it’s weird, it must be truly bizarre.”

Max sat down on my bed as if his legs
had given out. “Did she say why she wanted me?”

“No. Your name was the only thing I
could understand out of what she said.”

“Did she threaten you in any way?”

“No. But she looked really scary. She
looked dead. Her face was this disgusting white color and her lips were blue.”

He rubbed his stubbled chin, still
frowning. “Hmm. Okay, she shows up here three times, trying to say something to
you. And when she finally gets a message through, it’s my name. Was she trying
to talk when you saw her on the street?”

“No. That time she just stood there
looking at me. If I hadn’t seen her in my room, I would have thought she was a
regular person.” I sat down next to him, keeping plenty of room between the two
of us. “She was dressed very retro. Bell-bottom jeans and embroidered tunics
and headbands. She looks kind of like a flower child.”

“Maybe she died during the late sixties
or early seventies.”

“She must have been really hip.”

His face was drawn into thoughtful
lines, his dark-blue eyes far away. “I might know what this is about.”

“What?”

He glanced at me. “It’s something I don’t
like to talk about.”

“Okay. But it has something to do with
me, or Retro-girl wouldn’t keep coming to my room.”

“Retro-girl?” He grinned. Oh, boy, that
grin. It just about knocked me down.

“I don’t know her real name.” I angled
my body toward him. “I can’t make you tell me, but I’d really like to know. Why
is she here?”

Max’s grin faded. He regarded me for a
minute or so, then closed his eyes and drew a deep breath in through his nose. “Carter.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I received a message recently that he’s
trying to get in touch with me. Maybe Retro-girl is helping him. Maybe she
finds you easier to contact than me, so she got you to alert me.”

“But...how the heck do you receive a
message like that? Did you get an email? A text?”

He opened his eyes again. They sparkled
with humor. “A ghostly text? That would be convenient, but no. The message came
through the Tarot. A friend read for me last weekend.”

“What’s the Tarot?”

“A deck of cards with a different scene
on each card. They’re used for divination.” At my uncomprehending stare, he
said “telling the future.”

“Fortune telling? A fortune teller told
you Carter is looking for you.”

“No, not a fortune teller. A diviner.
Marie isn’t one of those fake gypsies with a crystal ball. She’s very good at
what she does and she takes it seriously. It’s a calling.”

“I see.” Really, I didn’t. Then I
thought...Marie. Did Max have a girlfriend? I didn’t like the surge of jealousy
that came over me. I had no right to be jealous over Max. I glanced at him. “Um...is
this Marie person some kind of witch or magician?”

“More or less.”

“Is she a close friend of yours?” I
said, trying to keep my voice casual.

“She’s my foster mom.”

“Oh. Foster mom.” I nodded sagely,
hoping he hadn’t noticed or guessed my true reason for asking. “You told me
that the other day, didn’t you?”

“She and her husband Brad took me in
when I was seventeen. If it weren’t for them, I’d probably still be on the
streets. Or dead.” The reverence in his voice moved me.

“They mean a lot to you.”

“Yes, they do.”

“Are they the ones who taught you about
ghosts and stuff?”

He smiled. “Not exactly. I started
seeing a spirit named Frederick when I was thirteen. He’s another one I owe a
lot to. He’s always looked out for me and given me good advice.”

That made my eyes go wide. “You’re
saying you have a friend who’s a ghost.”

“Yeah,” he said with a sidelong glance
at me. “I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“It’s all over your face, though.” He
watched me knowingly. “I don’t tell people about Fred. Only you and my circle.”

“Why me?”

“Because knowing about Fred might help
you be less afraid of Retro-girl. He kept me alive. When I was so down I didn’t
want to live another day, Fred kept me going.”

I wanted to take Max’s hand, to comfort
away the sadness I saw on his face, but I was afraid the gesture would be
misinterpreted. “I’m so sorry, Max.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s over.
I survived.”

And he didn’t want my pity or my
sympathy. He’d made that clear before. I cast around for a change of subject.

“Trent told me you’re a magician.”

Max laughed. “I’ll bet he did.”

“He also said you were a Satanist and a
witch.”

He laughed. “He’s just throwing every
scary occult term at you that he can think of.”

“What did he mean?”

“That I’m a crazy sonofabitch who thinks
I can turn people into toads or some shit.”

“That isn’t what you think?”

“No.” He shook his head, still smiling. “Real
magic isn’t like that.”

“Oh.” I’d never heard anyone use the
term real magic as if it could be something almost ordinary, something regular
people could do. “What is it like, then?”

“Real magic means manipulating energy.
My energy, the energy of the earth, the stars, whatever is available for use.
We channel and direct energy to influence events.”

I frowned at him. “That sounds totally
New Age.”

“That’s because the New Age people
borrow terms and ideas from ancient magical and spiritual systems. They just
kind of repackage it is all. And they charge a fortune to teach stuff that many
occultists can teach you for free or only a small fee.”

“And you’re an occultist.”

He met my gaze, square on, no flinching.
“Yes, I am.”

I took a deep breath. I had the feeling
I was standing on the edge of something big, like maybe an enormous canyon,
something I could fall into and hurt myself irreparably in the process.
Something that would forever change the way I saw everything in existence. I
could tumble in and break my bones on the rocks, or I could learn the terrain
and move slowly and safely into this new territory. Or I could turn around and
run back to my safe, ordinary, previous life.

“Not a Satanist or a witch,” I said.

“I’m neither, although what I do is
pretty close to witchcraft. I’m more what you’d call a wizard.

“Wow,” I said after a long hesitation. “That’s
a lot to take in.”

“I hope you’re not afraid of me now,” he
said softly.

My gaze snapped up to his. “Not at all.”

His eyes softened. “Good. I don’t ever
want you to be afraid of me.”

“Have other girls?”

“Oh, yeah. That’s why I don’t tell
people about Fred or any of this other stuff until I get to know them really
well. And most of the time, not even then.”

The urge to touch him was growing
stronger with each moment that passed. “You don’t know me all that well. What
if I run around blabbing this stuff to everyone?”

“I’m trusting you because of Retro-girl.”
He reached for me. Took my hand. “Can I trust you, Caroline?”

It was only our hands touching, but it
made me tremble and ache. I laced my fingers with his. “Yes.”

“Okay. The first thing we need to do is
try to get Retro-girl to talk to us. It sounds like she’s having trouble with
that, so we need a tool to help her.”

“Like what?”

“I normally use a pendulum, but mine is
at home. Do you have a necklace I can borrow? The best kind is a simple metal
chain with a pendant.”

“I might have something that will work.”
I got up and went to the built-in wardrobe that functioned as my closet. My
small jewelry box had several necklaces in it. I pulled out a silver heart and
held it up so Max could see it.

“Will this work?”

“Perfect.”

I dropped it into his palm. He patted
the bed beside him and I sat down. I wasn’t sure what had just happened between
us, but it felt like more than friendship.

Max closed his eyes, holding the pendant
in the palm of his hand. I didn’t know whether it was okay to look at him while
he did that, so I stared at my lap instead. After a few minutes of meditation—or
whatever he was doing—he held the necklace by the end of the chain, so the
pendant swung gently in the air.

Once it settled down and stopped swinging,
he started talking to it. The fact that he was talking to what I’d always
assumed was an inanimate object gave me pause. It was just too kooky. But I’d
asked him here; I’d asked for his help, and it would be extremely rude for me
to show how uncomfortable this made me.

He asked it basic stuff, like what
direction was yes and what was no, was his name Joe Smith—that was a no—and
were we on the surface of Mars. I gave him a few sidelong glances during this
process, while biting my lip to keep from nervous giggling. He seemed
completely serious about it.

“I’m asking these silly questions to get
the feel of this particular pendulum,” he said softly. “Not because I’m an
idiot.”

I looked at him, wide-eyed, and said
nothing.

Max grinned. “Okay, now down to business.
Retro-girl, are you here?”

The pendulum remained still.

“Blond girl from the sixties—we don’t
know your name, so we’re calling you Retro-girl. I hope you’re not offended by
that. We mean no offense at all. Can you tell me if you’re here? If you can
make this pendulum swing in the yes direction, then we’ll know you’re here and
you want to talk to us.”

Still no response. The silver heart
remained motionless at the end of its chain.

“Is there someone here who would like to
communicate with us?” Max said.

We waited. And waited. Still no
response.

“Is there a blond girl who may have died
in the late sixties or early seventies?”

The pendant simply hung there like an
ordinary piece of jewelry.

Max sighed. “I don’t know. It seems like
she’s not around anymore or maybe she just doesn’t know how to get through to
us.”

“Is there anything else you can do? I
don’t want her appearing to me like that again. It scared the shit out of me.”

He handed the necklace back to me. “I’d
have to go home and get my kit. I came right over when you called me because
you sounded so worried I didn’t want to take the time to go home first.”

“Okay.”

“Thing is, if I prevent her from coming
back, we’ll never know what it is she wants to say.”

I chewed my lip. “I don’t know if I can
sleep in here, knowing she might show up any time.”

“Can you get someone to stay with you?”

“No.” I shook my head. “Paige is
spending the night with her boyfriend.”

“What about Trent?”

I looked him in the eye. He showed no
sign of jealousy or resentment of my boyfriend. “He’s out with his friends
tonight. I don’t want to ruin his good time over this.”

“Does he know about the ghost?”

“Yes. But he thinks it’s my imagination.”

“Well.” Max looked down at his hands,
clasped in his lap. “I can stay with you, if you’d like.”

My heart jumped. I went hot all over. “I
don’t know, Max...”

“We won’t do anything except sleep. You
can put this extra mattress on the floor, if you don’t want me in the bed with
you.”

The problem was I wanted him in the bed
way too much. My skin burned even more hotly. I was sure he could see me
blushing. Hell, they could probably see me blushing all the way on the other
side of campus.

This was such a bad idea. If he stayed
here, something would happen between us. I knew it. He probably knew it.

“Tell you what,” he said. “You can come
over to my place and sleep in my bed. I’ll take the floor in the living room.”

“I don’t want to make you sleep on the
floor,” I said.

“I’ve got a sleeping bag.”

“Still—”

“Caroline, I’ve slept in much worse
places, believe me.” He smiled. “Really, it’s not a big deal.”