“I’l tel you when you get here,” I said.
I real y wasn’t sure how Emma would react to Gordy’s relationship with Katie, but I knew she’d be crazy mad when I told her about Gabriel “making” her his mate. No guy was going to make Emma do anything she didn’t want.
Ever.
“Be there in ten,” Emma said.
*****
Emma made record time and was on my doorstep in five minutes. She was standing on the porch tapping her foot impatiently as I opened the door.
“Do you know who sent me flowers, or not?” Emma asked. She tilted her head to gauge my response and her blond ponytail swooshed back and forth.
“Come on up to my room,” I said. “You’l need to sit down for some of this.”
“Oh my god, you’re kil ing me,” Emma said. “Seriously, this better be good.”
Emma remained poised as she strode up the stairs, but her eye twitch gave away her anxiety. I closed the front door and took the stairs two at a time. When we reached my room, Emma swung the door shut. She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, letting me know it was time to talk.
“Okay spil ,” Emma said. “Tel me what you know.” I sighed and sat on my bed, grabbing a dung beetle plushie for comfort. How do you tel your best friend that her ex is dating the painful y happy girl who works at the library, her favorite place on earth, and the obnoxious new werewolf in town wants to settle down and have puppies?
“Wel , I don’t know for sure who sent you flowers,” I said. “But I do have a guess…and some news.” Emma sighed and came to sit at the foot of my bed.
She bit her lip and looked down at her feet dangling above the floor.
“Is it good news?” Emma asked. “Girl, I could real y use some good news right now.”
“I don’t know,” I said, letting out a sigh. “I, um, kind of walked in on Gordy and Katie, the red haired girl who works at the library, and they were kissing. I guess they’ve been hanging out and just started dating. So, yeah, they’re together.”
“Wow,” Emma said. She raised her hand to her mouth, either in surprise or in memory of kissing Gordy herself.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yes, I think I am,” Emma said. She turned to me, smiled, and squeezed my hand. “Thanks for letting me know.”
“Yeah, wel , I didn’t think you’d want to find out by seeing those two holding hands or something,” I said.
“Plus, I think that crosses Gordy off our list of potential flower suspects.”
“True,” Emma said. “So who do you suspect?”
“The Brat,” I mumbled, putting my head in my hands.
“What?” Emma asked.
“Gabriel,” I groaned. “I think it was Gabriel. Whiny, horrible, self-centered, meat eating, gas guzzling, money flaunting Gabriel.”
“Ugh,” Emma said, wrinkling her nose. “Why would you think that?”
“Gabriel declared that he was going to quote unquote
‘make you his mate,’” I said, doing air quotes with my fingers.
“He said what?” Emma asked, raising her voice. Her hands curled into fists and I hugged my plushie tight to my chest.
“I know, it’s like way creepy stalkerish and total y not cool,” I said.
“Not cool?” Emma asked. “No, his behavior is abhorrent. I can’t believe anyone would think they could make someone like them, though he’s obviously a spoiled brat. He’s probably never been told no before.”
“That’s my nickname for him,” I said, grinning.
“Abhorrent?” Emma asked.
“No, The Brat,” I said.
“Wel , I suppose The Abhorrent Brat would be a mouthful,” Emma said. “Oh what am I going to do? Gabriel is a member of the pack and he’s here to try to force Simon into some kind of barbaric duel.”
“Yeah, that boy has testosterone issues,” I said, snorting.
“I’m trying to earn the respect of the pack so I can effectively practice medicine,” Emma said. Emma closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Gabriel could ruin things with the pack.”
“Like how?” I asked. “He’s just a whiny brat.”
“But he’s a werewolf,” Emma said. “There are advantages to me being human, like having hands to provide medical care with on the ful moon, but I’l never be a real member of the pack.”
“Don’t worry,” I said. “The pack won’t listen to Gabriel.
Plus, Cal wil speak up for you. If Gabriel tries to embarrass you or start any rumors, Cal wil put a stop to it.”
“I know Cal is the alpha, but that also means he has other responsibilities,” Emma said. “He might be too busy to make the pack listen.”
“Total y not going to happen,” I said. “Cal would never be too busy to put in a good word for you with the pack, but if you’re worried we could always ask Simon. He could make the pack listen.”
“Right, like he’d speak on my behalf,” Emma said.
“Wel , he would definitely defend your healing abilities,” I said. “He might complain about your teas tasting like tree bark, but he tel s everyone how talented you are.”
“No way,” Emma said, blushing.
Emma reached up and started twirling her hair and I had a nagging suspicion of who
she wished
sent her flowers. But I wasn’t going to touch that idea with a ten foot pole. No, there wasn’t a pole long enough for that hunch.
“So do we have a plan?” I asked. Emma was gazing into space with a glazed over expression. “Earth to Emma!”
“What?” Emma asked. “I mean, yes, we have a plan.
When the boys get back from Wolf Camp, I’l tel Gabriel that he doesn’t have a chance in Hel of making me his mate, date, or anything else.”
Emma’s eyes lost their glazed-over look and twinkled with mischief.
Now that’s the Emma I know and love.
“So what do we do now?” I asked.
I had a feeling that the next two days would feel like an eternity while we waited for the guys to return from Wolf Camp. Emma was obviously eager to give Gabriel a piece of her mind and I was already missing Cal.
“Gabriel seems pretty dense, another reason why he is so total y not my type, so I was thinking some visual aids might be necessary,” Emma said.
Oh yeah, there was definitely a gleam in Emma’s eye.
“Like flow charts and statistics?” I asked. I knew Emma very, very wel .
“Yes, and some supporting quotes about this little thing cal ed
women’s liberation
,” Emma said.
Oh boy, Gabriel was in for a ful frontal Emma confrontation. I almost felt bad for him.
Almost.
“I can supply the poster board and markers,” I offered.
“Good, then al we need now is a trip to the library,” Emma said, rubbing her hands with glee.
Chapter 9
I was in for another surprise at the library. Katie was working the front desk and I tried not to cringe and hide. I had to make an effort to smile and wave while worrying about what Emma might say or do. I needn’t have worried.
Emma approached the desk and started asking Katie about where we could find books on the women’s liberation movement. They both started chatting at hyper speed, apparently they had found a shared interest, and Emma was positively beaming. She even graced Katie with her girl power knuckle-bump. Katie squeed with delight and ran off to find Emma’s books.
“I’m starting to like that girl,” Emma said.
“Yeah, me too,” I said. “So you’re cool with Katie dating Gordy?”
Emma shrugged one shoulder and her lips quirked in a semi-wistful smile.
“I never wanted him to be miserable,” Emma said. “I mean, I like Gordy, I wouldn’t have dated him otherwise. He wasn’t right for me, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t right for someone else.”
“So you don’t hate him?” I asked. “You’ve been majorly avoiding the guy for months…which, you know, has been kind of awkward.”
“No, sorry, it was complicated,” Emma said. “It’s like…
I can be his friend now that he’s with someone, but I couldn’t be around him when he was pining over me and wanting me to take him back. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, I hadn’t real y thought about it like that, but I guess that would have been stressful,” I said.
Actual y it made perfect sense. I knew Emma felt guilty about breaking up with Gordy and it must have been hard to see his tearful face every day. Add a side dish of pressure to that guilt entrée and you have a meal that no one would want to swal ow.
We grabbed our favorite table and Emma waited for Katie to return with her books. I was glad that Emma liked Katie and was beyond the whole Gordy thing. Maybe we could al hang out sometime soon…after we made it past the ful moon, I solved the mystery of Dylan’s death, and returned Nera’s amulet to the Salem witches, of course.
I went in search of more books on Witchtrot Road. I had been distracted during my earlier search by the papers documenting past Wakefield atrocities, and what that could mean regarding Samhain and my future. This time I needed to focus on learning more about the curse.
I hauled a huge pile of books, even a local map or two, back to our study table where Emma was furiously taking notes. Her eyes never left the page as she raised her fist over the pile of books for an encouraging knuckle-bump.
Oh yeah, Emma was total y in her element. Some guys get a Dear John letter, but Gabriel was about to be delivered a thesis.
I laughed quietly and started flipping pages. What I discovered was fascinating.
Katie had been completely right about the history of Witchtrot Road. The road got its name from the freaky events that took place there back in 1692. The library books confirmed what Katie said about the Wakefield man accused of witchcraft.
Reverend Burroughs, a Wakefield minister, had previously worked as a minister in Salem and apparently made some enemies there. An opportunist named Cotton Mather, a Puritan minister in Massachusetts, used the witch trial frenzy to get rid of Burroughs by claiming he was a witch.
Evil jerk.
The crazed town folk, with the egging on of Mather and his cronies, sent their agents to Wakefield to arrest Burroughs. Burroughs, a family man, was woken from his bed as the three officials broke into his home with the intent to drag him back to Salem to stand trial. Reverend Burroughs was so confident of his own innocence that he offered to go wil ingly with the officials. He kissed his family goodbye and began his journey to Salem.
Burroughs even offered to take the officials on a short cut through the Berwicks. The Salem constables fol owed Burroughs on horseback on dark, remote, thickly forested roads. At nightfal a storm unleashed, bringing with it thunder and lightning. The riders’ horses were startled by the storm and the superstitious men claimed that Burroughs, who wasn’t afraid of the storm, had cast a spel on them. Apparently the constables were too studly to admit that their terror was due to a simple storm. As the tree branches lashed threateningly over the road, the men declared that Reverend Burroughs must in fact be a witch.
When Burroughs reached Salem he stood trial. At one point during the proceedings, when he flawlessly and reverently recited the Lord’s Prayer, it looked as though he may be found innocent of witchcraft. Mather, who was beginning to remind me of two nasty pieces of work I knew al too wel , made a rousing speech that final y convinced the mob-like crowd that Burroughs was indeed a witch and should be destroyed. The constables also added to Mather’s claim that they had witnessed a large number of toads at the Wakefield residence. Since toads were thought to be the Devil’s instruments and the pet familiars of witches, their story added weight to the accusation of witchcraft. Reverend Burroughs was found guilty and sentenced to be executed by hanging.
Poor guy.
Finding information about the curse was more difficult.
I used the library computers to go online and Google the legend of Witchtrot Road, Burroughs, and a curse. I found a few paranormal sites that claimed Burroughs had cursed his accusers and that his ghost continued to haunt Witchtrot Road, where he was marched to his death, to this very day.
“Dude, you okay?” Emma asked, startling me from thoughts of Cotton Mather. I’d given him Jared Zempter’s face and a pilgrim hat, which was probably al kinds of wrong. “You look like you just ate something nasty.”
“Ugh, I hate bul ies,” I said, pointing to the open book.
“Even back in 1692 there were creepy, horrible bul ies.” I told Emma about what I’d learned.
“So when do we go check it out?” Emma asked.
“Check what out?” I asked.
“Witchtrot Road,” Emma said, rol ing her eyes. “You have bul ies of your own to deal with and we stil don’t know what caused Dylan’s death.”
“We could go out there, I guess, but shouldn’t we wait until after Wolf Camp?” I asked.
“Since when do we need guys to protect us?” Emma asked.
Son of a dung beetle.
Emma had just spent hours researching women’s rights. She wasn’t going to take “we need the big strong guys” as an excuse.
“Um, okay,” I said. “I do want to clear this up, and get the J-team off my back, as soon as possible. When should we go?”
“Tomorrow night,” Emma said, raising her fist to bump knuckles. “Girl power, yo.”
Chapter 10
Dreaded Monday morning came al too soon. The thought of going back to school and facing the J-team set my teeth on edge and made my jaw ache. I dressed quickly, but memories of being held captive in that dusty, little storage room crept in and made me feel claustrophobic. I felt like I was going to gag. Definitely no high necked Victorian col ars today. Instead I grabbed a hoodie with cat ears that made me feel cute and tough at the same time.
I stared at my reflection in the mirror, trying to look strong, and sighed. The face of a scared little girl looked sorrowful y back at me.
Strong? Not so much.
How could I possibly face the day without Cal? Okay, I know I wasn’t rockin’ the girl power vibe, but Cal knew exactly how to make me feel better and today was destined to be a day that I real y needed the extra comfort.
If wishes were horses, beggars would ride. If wishes were werewolves, you’d be by my side.
Yep, I looked like a gloomy, freaked out kid on the first day of school. I tried quirking one eyebrow at my reflection, but both lifted to my hairline, as usual, making me look even more frightened. With a sigh, I risked triggering my gag reflex and added a spiky studded choker and wrist cuffs for extra courage. At least if the J-team tried to grab me, it would hurt.