Spell Struck (11 page)

"I mean, wouldn't it suck? To be betrayed by someone you trusted." A cookie crumb tumbled down Aidan's chest and dropped into his lap. "Kate would blame the brew. And she'd hate Bianca."

"The audience would be on Kate's side." The part of me that wanted — no,
needed
— Aidan to fall in love me so I could restore the grimoire
, drove me to add, "But Bianca did it for a good reason."

Aidan snorted. "Their dad wouldn't let Bianca marry until Kate did. Bianca acted in her own interest, not Kate's."

I shifted in my seat. "Forget doing a parody. We'll play it straight."
We'll avenge Kate. Mr. Peters will give us an A. It would be perfect. Too bad none of this would be possible without the love spell. I reached for the cookie.

"Do you think such magic is possible?" A weird undertone belied Aidan's neutral expression.

I cleared my throat and picked at the cookie. "A love spell? Wow, I don't know."

Aidan tilted his head and studied me. A blush worked its way up from the neckline of my purple blouse. Aidan laughed, a forced sound. "Maybe Bianca had stumbled upon an ancient grimoire."

Alarms short-circuited in my head. The cookie wedged in my esophagus. A cough erupted from my throat.

A lock of Aidan's scraggly brown hair fell across his left eye. He brushed it aside without breaking his laser-like gaze. He didn't seem worried about my choking. Something bigger was on his mind, something far worse.
What if he knows?

"We'd need a plausible explanation for how Bianca came to possess the spell book." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Can you think of any?"

I dug a bottle of water out of my backpack and took a calming swig. A couple more coughs sputtered out before I could answer. "I don't know. It's not like
Macbeth where there are already witches in the play.
"

"Good point. Witches would have been helpful. Well, think about it." Aidan stood. "Sorry. Gotta run. Thanks for lunch."

He vanished before I could gather up my notebook and pen. The bell blared, signaling the end of lunch. My thoughts flew in all directions, like the ball during one of Amy's water polo matches. Instinct warned me to figure out the subtext, but I was too rattled by Aidan's reference to a love spell. Maybe the love spell
was the subtext. But he couldn
't know about the grimoire. Not unless someone had told him.

Parvani. Her fifth-
period class was close to mine. Five minutes didn't leave much time to interrogate and kill her, but I could try. Slinging my backpack over my shoulder, I sprinted for the door.

Chapter Fourteen

This isn't going to work. Salem
's energy field screamed
guilty
, but how could she be? The stupid grimoire didn't exist. It never had. Magdalena was a madwoman.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. If my locker had been nearby, I would have banged my head against it. What had happened to "
avoid Salem as much as possible?" I had barely made it to lunch before I had broken my own rule.

Man,
I've got it bad. How could she get more beautiful every day? My hand had itched to touch hers. And when she had mentioned her sister?
Man. Her vulnerability had seared me. My every instinct had roared, "
Protect her!"

"A love potion?" The idea had come out of nowhere… except it must have come from somewhere.
Maybe I've been enchanted. My forehead ached. I replayed in my mind Salem
's reaction to "ancient grimoire." The words had triggered something.

Don't jump to conclusions. Wait and see what she comes up with in Drama.

"Aidan?" Meadow slipped her arm through mine and fell into step beside me. "Did you say something about a love potion?"

"Hey, Meadow." Her easygoing energy wrapped around me like a sisterly hug. "Yeah. Sarah Miller and I are partners for a big Drama project."

Meadow loosened her grip.

"We might add a love potion to the play we're writing." I shrugged and beamed, like it was no big deal, and slipped into Aidan the Charmer.

"Maybe we can be partners in Bio. I could help you catch up."

"Cool. Thanks." I pulled away. "Hey, I'll meet you there. I gotta make a stop first."

Meadow's brow crinkled. Then she probably decided I meant a pit stop, and she waved me off. I hurried to the cafeteria, not the boys' bathroom, and slipped in while a few stragglers still milled about. I slowed my steps to divert attention and walked, all innocent-like, to the metal condiment station. After a quick glance to make sure no eyes were on me, I palmed several packets of salt and shoved them into my jeans pocket before heading to class.

****

"Salem! What are you doing?"

"Kidnapping you." I snaked my arm through Parvani's and steered her around to the side of the building, away from her English class.

"If you've come to thank me for setting you up with Aidan yesterday," Parvani said in her clipped British accent, "you have a funny way of showing it."

"Thank you." I
was grateful. "
But we have a problem."

Parvani's dark eyes widened behind her designer frames. "Is it
Teen Wytche?"

"No. I mean yes, it is part of the problem, but not in the way you may think."

"What's up?"

"I think Aidan knows about the grimoire and the love spell. Did you say anything to him?"

Parvani pushed her glasses farther up her nose. "Of course not!" She lowered her voice. "I would never say anything. Do you think I'd risk Zhù or Jordan finding out?"

I assessed her with what Evie calls my gunslinger squint. Parvani
had almost poisoned Jordan with her wrongful love spell, and had attracted Zhù with the free-will love spell I had designed. Maybe I had jumped to the wrong conclusion. "
Okay. Maybe you didn't say anything, but someone must have."

"Evie is the only other person who knows, and she would never say a word. If it were up to her, the grimoire would be buried in a graveyard or something."

I released Parvani's arm. The gold bracelets on her right arm dropped below her wrist with a tinny clatter. "Aidan put out feelers. For now, let's assume he suspects something but he doesn't know for sure."

"I don't know what to tell you." Parvani glanced toward her class. The bell would ring any second, making both of us tardy.

"Just keep your eyes and ears open."

Parvani nodded. "Absolutely."

We took off in opposite directions. I speed-walked to World History and Geography, where my chances of learning anything were just about zero.

Chapter Fifteen

Meadow had lassoed me after Bio and dropped hints about the two of us dating. By the time I'd ditched her and reached the auditorium, Mr. Peters was already addressing the class. For once, the kids sat in the auditorium seats instead of gathering on stage. Salem had holed up in her usual seat toward the back.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. Cooper."

"Sorry, sir." I kept my chin tucked and slipped past him. Most of the makeup Kali had applied to my bruises this morning had worn off during Gym. So far, none of my teachers had noticed. It didn't look like we'd be under the bright stage lights today. Still, I held my breath until I reached the side aisle, headed for Salem.

"An amendment to your writing assignment," Mr. Peters announced. "Final papers and performance of scenes are still due by Wednesday the twenty-sixth. But your first draft is due on the seventeenth. I have corrected this online, in case any of you forget, and so your parents can be fully informed." He swiped his finger across his electronic pad. "Pair up and get to work, people!"

Salem sat three seats from the aisle with her backpack on the fourth seat. She'd hunkered down, her tiny frame folded sideways in the seat, with her feet tucked under her.

I caught her eye. "Long time no see."

"Indeed." Snarkiness or wariness edged her voice — I wasn't sure which. I dropped my messenger bag onto the empty seat between us. Before my butt hit the aisle seat, a whoosh of energy knocked me sideways. I knew from her hurt expression she had raised an invisible, take-no-prisoners energy shield

Guess I won't have to worry about touching her.

"How was Bio?" Frost scissored her words.

I shrugged. "Okay. But I didn't have a chance to think about Bianca and the love potion. You?"

Salem shook her head. "Didn't give it a thought."

I pulled my dog-eared notebook from my bag. The thing had lasted through two high schools and nine subjects. There were five blank pages left.
One more item on my Need-It-Yesterday list. Good thing June wanted to hire me. Fixing her broken stair was the only job on my horizon until the Crystal Faire. And at this rate, I wouldn
't have anything to sell and Papo would pulverize me.

Thoughts of the faire unleashed a fresh tidal wave of despair. Thanksgiving. Another move. Papo's deadline hung like a guillotine over my neck. After Salem and I performed our scene in Drama, I'd never see her again. Would we spend Christmas in the van or in another soulless, vacant house? And then what?

"Maybe one of the servants gave Bianca the love potion." Salem softened her voice, as if she knew I had gone to a dark place and was coaxing me off the ledge.

"Maybe. Though I like the grimoire idea." I leaned in. "Let's wow people with this play. You know, make it unforgettable."
So you won't forget me.

Salem sat up straighter and unfolded her legs. Even encased in her thick-heeled combat boots, her feet didn't quite touch the floor. "You're on." She tapped her pen against her notebook. "So we need something more original, more outside the box." She consulted her copy of
Taming of the Shrew
. "Hortensio was the older suitor who pretended to be a music teacher to be near Bianca. What if he gave her a book of music, not realizing it was an enchanted ancient grimoire?"

The skin on my nape prickled. "I like it. But where did he get the book from?"

"Maybe he bought it in a used book store, or from a foreign street peddler."

"Sounds plausible."
Too plausible. Almost like it actually happened. "
Either scenario is fine with me." Our gazes locked. It almost seemed like Salem was trying to read me as much as I was trying to read her. Staring into her ice-blue fairy eyes, my thoughts sidetracked, and my gaze dropped to her lips.

Salem clicked her pen. "One of us should write this down."

My attention swung to her pen, then back up to her eyes. "Want me to do it?"

She hesitated. "No, I will. Just don't make fun of my spelling."

"Promise." I crossed an X over my heart. "I'll type up the final draft. But I'll have to use your computer. Mine's broken."

"I don't have a laptop, but you could come over to my house and use the computer there." Her hopeful expression collapsed. "If my sister is okay. I mean, if she comes home."

Without thinking, I reached across the empty seat and squeezed her hand. Our palms connected, detonating a blast of blue magic. It rippled through my body, resonating in every cell.

Salem dropped her pen. "I, uh…" She glanced about wild-eyed, maybe wondering, like I did, if the explosion had rocked the whole auditorium.

"I'll… find… your pen." I released Salem's hand. The air between us thrummed, thick with expectation. Crouching at Salem's feet, I groped beneath the seat in front of her until I found the ballpoint. I carried it between my thumb and forefinger. Magdalena was sure to sniff me like a hound when I returned. I just hoped I had snatched enough salt to scour every trace of Salem's magic from my skin.

"Found it." I handed over the black ballpoint and returned to my seat. "Which do you want to do first? Outline the three acts, or write the scene we'll perform?"

Salem gaped. I could hear the question screaming in her head:
Didn't you feel what I felt?

The bruises along my jaw erupted with pain. I cowered back in my seat. Inside my head I heard Papo's snarl.
The clock is ticking, Nico.

"Aidan?"

The room whirled. The blood leached from my face and pooled in my feet. I gripped the armrests to keep from falling. For a second, Magdalena's ring glinted before my eyes. Salem grabbed my arm and screamed my name. Then the auditorium went black.

****

A high-pitched, mosquito-like whine woke me. I swam up from the dark void into the harsh glare of a buzzing fluorescent light. "Man!" I shielded my eyes with my forearm and took mental inventory. A long-forgotten scent permeated the room.
Fresh sheets. I rested on something soft — well, softer than a bedroll on the floor. A cot?

"I always thought it would be great to have cute guys fall at my feet. Now, not so much."

Salem. My heart did a choppy kick-start. "
So, you think I'm cute?"

"I think you are mental."

"Liar." I lowered my arm just enough to peek out. "Where am I?"

"The nurse's office." She perched on a second cot, her thin legs swinging like pendulums weighed down by her black boots. A crisp manila folder at her side rested at a suspicious angle, as if she had peeked at its contents and then pushed it away.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Cooper?" A middle-aged woman peered through the doorway. Seeing the folder, she swept in and scooped it up. "I'm Grace Gaya, the school counselor. Nurse Kelly is at another campus today, but I've spoken to her on the phone."

I tried to sit up, but got blindsided by dizziness and rested my head back on the small pillow.

"Sarah, would you mind going to the front desk? Miss Scroggins may have some questions for you."

"Sure. No problem." Salem slipped off the cot and mouthed, "Feel better," before she grabbed her backpack off the floor and trudged out.

Miss Gaya took Salem's place on the cot. She was probably a little older than Mom would have been, if she had lived. Her dull brown hair grazed the shoulders of her filmy dress. "Can you tell me what happened?"