Reckless Revenge: Book Four (Spellbound 4) (10 page)

Brittany gulped. Her head dipped to her chest.

“Cheer up,” I said to Brittany. “The worst is yet to come.”

Evans pinned me with a fierce stare. “Shiloh!”

“What?”

My mentor kneaded his temple and rested an elbow on the mantel, briefly closing his eyes.

Brittany sniffled. “I’ve always sensed the weirdness. Maybe the adults do, too. Once I told my mother I was scared of the monster under the bed. She squirted holy water in my room and poured salt around the bed.”

“Well, what was she supposed to do?” I scowled right back at Evans, trying to remain unaffected by the stern look he threw me.

Brittany rubbed her eyes and said around a yawn, “I was ten. She should’ve just told me not to be scared of the dark.”

“What? Of course you should be scared of the dark!” I said.

“Again, Shiloh. Not helping,” Evans said in a somber tone.

I jerked my chin in Kayla’s direction. “What about her?”

“Kayla can stay here, in one of the spare bedrooms for now,” he said.

“Good idea.” I shifted in my seat toward Kayla. “You have to stay here.”


Nah brabram
,” she replied. “Safe here.”

Brittany’s bleak eyes settled on mine. “What did Kayla say now?”

“No problem.”

Evans moved to the desk chair, sat down, and his fingers flew over the keyboard of the laptop.

“What are you looking up?” Brittany asked.

“Zombie nourishment,” Evans replied.

After a few awkward minutes, I stretched my arms and faced Evans. “What did your search uncover regarding their eating habits?”

“They eat brains.
Any
brains,” Evans said. “I’ll figure something out.”

Trent entered the library, fisting his eyes and stretching, wearing striped pajama bottoms and nothing else. Stopping mid-stride, he squinted drowsily when his gaze swept the room.

Charm jumped off my lap, and the fur ball went hissing into the other room.

“Hey, I heard voices. What are you guys...” Trent hesitated when his sleepy gaze landed on Zombie Kayla. Trent stared, speechless. No cynical remarks fell from his open lips.

I stood and grasped Trent’s hand, and led him from the room. In the hallway, he propped himself against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. Even half-awake his hair was mussed in an I-just-woke-up-but-my-hair-still-looks-sexy-as-hell style.

“Was that Kayla Bishop?” he asked.

I touched an index finger to my nose. “Gold star for you! Yup, Kayla has become a zombie. We think there’s a necromancer using some bad mojo to summon the dead.”

“Holy shit.” A partial smile touched his lips. “How is that even possible?”

“You’re asking me?” I shrugged. “Haven’t got a clue.”

Trent frowned and seemed preoccupied with some kind of internal struggle. “Maybe it’s time to move.” He cracked the briefest of smiles.

I smiled, too. We were sharing a moment here.

“Do you think your dad will care if Kayla stays here for now?” I asked. “Until we figure out what to do with her. I mean, obviously, she can’t go home.”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. Craven Manor has over sixty rooms. And it’s not like we can’t give her a permanent home if she needs one.”

“Thank you.” I stretched my arms over my head. “It’s late.” I stamped back inside the library and hauled Brittany to her feet, then glanced at Evans. “I’ll take Brittany back to her car, and I’ll meet you at the cemetery in the morning for recon.”

“What about school?” he asked.

“I doubt they’ll miss me.” I put an arm around Brittany. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I told her, and even I believed it for a little while.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

My life had become even more bizarre, if that were possible. Now I was dealing with vicious lycans, undead cheerleaders, and mysterious necromancers. If I hadn’t been chosen by an ancient prophecy to guard this town, I would have packed a bag and taken a road trip. Except I’d promised to protect the innocent and battle evil. Blah, blah, blah.

The things a girl had to do.

So, here I was parked outside Silent Hollows Cemetery on a foggy Tuesday morning, shivering in my stylish black tee that had a supercute white skull and crossbones printed on it and low-rise jeans. A Mercedes sped around the corner and stopped behind me. Evans and I emerged from our vehicles at the same time.

“I’m glad you’re here, but I
can
do this alone, Shiloh.”

I yanked on a hoodie and said, “No way! Then I’d miss all the wacky fun.”

Evans shook his head and sighed. “Fine, then come along.”

We tramped across the cemetery and halted beside Kayla’s grave. The unearthed dirt clung with dew. Inside the opening, the ivory satin lining of the casket was muddy and shredded. Kayla must’ve determinedly clawed her way out.

Damn, zombies were tough.

Evans inspected the headstone. Nothing. His gaze wandered over the area, then he squinted. “Over there. That tree.”

Not seven feet from Kayla’s grave stood a peculiar oak tree, ancient and ragged, like the ghastly bones of an arthritic skeleton. Surrounding the tree and a patch of dead grass was police tape, closing off the area like a crime scene. It had to be the same spot where the groundskeeper was murdered. Someone had drawn a triangle with symbols sketched in blood. A few leftover pieces of animal bones and burnt branches were scattered at its three points.

Evans crouched under the yellow tape to inspect the triangle. “It appears to be Yew and human blood. Must’ve been a sacrifice, and I’m betting the poor soul they used was the unsuspecting groundskeeper recently murdered here. That could be why no one’s discovered her empty grave yet.” He examined the markings. “The symbols are definitely Greek. And just as I suspected—it’s a
thaumaturgic triangle
used for the summoning of otherworldly creatures. Found near ritual sites, it is believed to be the door through which the entity will be called. Only someone with great power and knowledge of the Dark Arts could pull off something like this.”

“Do you think Darrah’s involved?”

He scrutinized the symbols. “She’s the strongest sorceress in the area. But she couldn’t have done it without assistance.”

“I could ask her,” I offered.

He flicked a glance my way. “Would she tell you the truth?”

“Probably not.” I scratched my head. “But who would bring Kayla back? Her mom?”

“No.” He rolled his sleeves and buttoned his vest. “From what I can tell by these arcane ciphers, this person wasn’t trying to resurrect Kayla, but summon something else. A demon, most likely. Or...”

My heart beat faster. “Or what?”

“Nothing. My best guess is that whoever performed this primeval ritual didn’t realize it would affect the soil or revive anyone else buried near here within a certain timeframe. Or didn’t care.”

It seemed my
Pet Sematary
theory was correct
.

“Why a certain timeframe?”

“The type of magick used will only last a few days at most, then diminish, which means we don’t have to worry about anymore of the dead returning to life.” Evans strode toward the entrance. “Let’s close the coffin and fill in the grave. I have shovels in my trunk.”

I jogged to catch him. “Why?”

“Desecrated grave? Missing body? In this superstitious town, the panic and chaos may arise once it is discovered. Until we know what we’re dealing with, I don’t want the local authorities or the townsfolk complicating matters.”

“Since you mentioned that…” I chipped at the flaking nail polish on my thumb.
Huh.
The image of the smiley face on my nail had become a frowny face. “This guy from school—Daniel—wants to hunt the lycans.”

Evans stared, appalled. “You must persuade him otherwise! He’ll get hurt. Hunting them should be left to professionals.”

Jeez, when did he suddenly get so assertive?

I lifted an arched brow. “Professionals like us?”

He didn’t smile. “Certainly not! But I will contact the DarkSide Detectives and get more information on the lycans before we decide what course of action to take against them.”

I already had a course of action—kill them all.

We passed under the archway. The world seemed lost in a thick fog swarming the streets. The sky painted with a canvas of drab clouds. The defiant caw of that friggin’ raven perched atop an oak shredded the silence.

I clutched Evans’s arm to stop him midstride and pointed at the menacing bird. “Up there, in the tree. Do you see that bird?” I whispered, as if it could hear us.

“Yes.” Evans peered through his glasses. “That’s got to be the most enormous raven I’ve ever seen.”

I jerked at the sleeves of my hoodie. “It’s been following me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just a bird,” he scoffed. “We have more important things to concentrate on. You’re becoming paranoid.”

Becoming? Ha! I was
definitely
paranoid!

With a harsh croak, the raven wheeled away. It swooped and circled, a black silhouette against the drab sky.

I trailed Evans to his Mercedes, where he popped the trunk. He dug through his duffel bag for holy water and removed the shovels.

We tromped back, and once the grave was put to rights, the leftover ritual paraphernalia stuffed into his bag, holy water sprinkled over the dirt, and the shovels returned to the trunk of the Mercedes, Evans turned to me. “At least we can rule out that Kayla’s resurrection was the result of a contagious infection or virus.”

“That’s comforting. Now what?”

“Go to school, do your homework, have dinner with your aunt.”

I groaned. “Spending too much quality time with Darrah might lead to some quality matricide. And yeah, I know she’s not really my mother. But still…”

He patted my shoulder. “You’ll be fine. We’ll hit the books tonight. Go into research mode.”

Meh.
More icky research. Releasing a resigned sigh, I said, “I’ll check the grimoires, too.”

Evans must’ve observed my less than eager expression, because he said, “Your positive attitude already waning?”

“No. It’s just between school, training, researching lycans, and now zombies popping up—all this supernatural hijinks gets old. Fast.”

He sighed. “I’m quite aware it’s arduous. Nonetheless, knowledge is the ultimate weapon.”

He was right, of course.

In that moment, I wanted to tell Evans everything regarding the
Darkness
spreading inside my body, Trent’s ominous black stare, that I suspected Carter was a lycan, and about the weird boy with violet eyes. My entire body seemed to outwardly sigh as I talked freely, like an intense weight had been hoisted off my slim shoulders, because someone adult and more experienced with the freaky stuff was going to help solve the mysteries.

But after listening to my inconsequential babble, a frown puckered his lips. “I’m actually concerned about my nephew, too. In his mother’s letters to her sister, Catarina mentioned the presence of Esael. Maybe Trent has been infected like you.”

“I thought that too, but I checked him for signs of the Devil’s Mark and he doesn’t have any. Not one scar or blemish,” I said. “So what do you think’s causing Trent to go all-black-demon-eyes?”

“I’ll look into it.” Evans lowered his voice and said, “I hope you can be discreet with the information that I’m about to entrust you with.” His voice, though quiet, held an edge of disdain. “I believe that Trent’s father knows something about it. His wife’s mysterious death left him twisted and dark. He knew she’d been murdered, but the fingerprints around her throat weren’t human. Over the years, Maxwell has become obsessed with the occult...” He glanced around the graveyard with a sigh. “That’s why he invited me to move in after my wife died.”

“I know he’s your family and all, but I don’t trust the guy. He’s a neglectful father and now he’s dating my aunt.”

“I’m sure Trent sees it as neglect, however, I think Maxwell was caught between a rock and a hard place. He knew they couldn’t stay in the mansion after Catarina died because they’d likely be in danger. So putting Trent into various boarding schools seemed safer at the time.” Evans scratched his cheek, and asked, “Now tell me more about the older boy you saw. What did he say again?”

I repeated what Stalker Boy had said at Dad’s funeral while his eerie words replayed over in my mind:
“You have vast powers, yet you ignorantly use them. The most you’ve done with them is resolve petty squabbles and vanquish plebeian demons. But you’re capable of so much more. The moment of truth is coming. And you will have to choose a path, Shiloh…”
When I’d finished, I added, “And the weird thing? I felt kind of safe around him.”

He squeezed my shoulder. “I’ll investigate this boy and Trent’s odd eye color. And I’m sorry I said you were paranoid.”

Yeahhh.

I shrugged. “No biggie. But I think it’s way past time to go lycan hunting.”

“Shiloh, please don’t do anything rash until we know more about them. They’re still human—”

“I can handle it, Evans.” For a moment, we engaged in a stare down. His glare was fiercer than mine. Dammit. “Fine. But I’m not waiting much longer,” I grumbled.

He nodded, his facial muscles relaxing. “Then I’ll go straight home and reference my books.”

Evans went back to Craven Manor and I drove to school.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The third-period bell was ringing as I rushed in late to biology class. Today was frog dissection. Yuk. My lab partner did the slicing and dicing.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed someone peering through the glass window in the door. It was Mrs. Regina Ramírez, the coach’s wife. She was just standing there, watching me. My face caught fire.

What was she doing here?

Hanging my head, I forced myself to stare down at the poor frog, but I couldn’t get my brain to focus on the dismemberment. Not with Daniel’s mom staring me down. When I glanced back up at the door again, she was gone.

Okay. Deep breath.

She was probably just looking for Daniel. She wasn’t purposely staring at me, she was just checking the room.

At lunch, my jaw threatened to drop when I spotted Brittany sitting at our table in the noisy cafeteria. Seated across from her was Ariana, who raised her eyebrows as I approached.

“Uh, Brittany. What’s up?” I plopped onto the bench beside Ariana. I dumped my sack lunch on the table and opened my diet soda.

Brittany stabbed a plastic spoon into her yogurt. “Funny. Zombies are what’s up.”

“What?” Ariana twisted in her seat to stare pointedly at me. “Now we have friggin’ zombies?
And
when were you gonna tell me about this?”

“Shush. I haven’t had a chance.” I updated Ariana on the graveyard adventure with Kayla, then hastily and quietly repeated what Evans had clarified on the walking dead.

“Zombies are cool.” Ariana lifted her arms and curled her hands. “
Braaains!

“Not funny,” Brittany snapped.

“You don’t seem too surprised,” I said to Ariana.

My best friend shrugged. “Nah. There’s
always
something bizarre going on around here.”

I shifted in my seat and chipped at my peeling nail polish. The frowny face now had fangs.
Whoa
, was my freakin’ subconscious messing with me, or what?

Biting my lip, I glanced at Brittany eating her yogurt. I still had some trust issues with her, but after everything we’d recently been through together, I felt sort of a kinship with Brittany now.

“There’s more.” I scooted forward, and they edged closer, too. “The boys at school are acting super weird and super aggressive.”

Brittany gripped her yogurt. “What makes you assume that?”

“For example, Carter’s got a nasty smell and he’s looking extra hairy. And the other players have all bulked up and look like weightlifters on steroids. With tempers that match.”

“Doesn’t make them bad people,” Ari said.

“Maybe not, but even Trent’s been acting kinda strange,” I said. “His eyes change color, actually they turn black, his temper goes from mildly angry to super pissed off within ten seconds, and he’s inhumanly fast and strong.”

Ariana twisted the cap off her water bottle. “You’re gonna be mad at me for saying this, but haven’t I always said he was demonic?”

“What?
No!
Just stop being such a hater,” I said with a grunt. “We’ve been through this a million times. Trent is
not
evil.”

“He seems like a normal teenaged guy to me,” Brittany said.

“Thank you,” I told her.

Ariana sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “It’s just that something is different with him lately, and whatever it is, it’s not good. Am I the only one seeing this?” She turned to me and added, “You just said that his eyes go all demon-spawny black. Not. Normal. Okay?”

“Ari’s right about
that
. Only wacky possessed people would have eyes that turn black,” Brittany said.

Possessed? I hadn’t thought of that.

“Maybe you’re the only one who wants to think he’s turning evil, Ariana,” I said. “But what if it’s something else? What if, for some reason, he’s losing his humanity?”

“Then we’ll simply get it back,” Ariana said.

I huffed. “Humanity isn’t something you can buy at Target.”

Brittany rolled her eyes. “What do you think’s going on with him then, Shiloh?”

“I’ll tell you. He’s leaning toward the dark side.” Ariana picked at her food. “His rebel, bad-boy persona wasn’t just an act.”

My fingers tightened around the soda can. “Just because Trent’s going through something doesn’t automatically make him a demon,” I said. “Will you please stop hating on my boyfriend?”

Ariana shrugged. “If it looks like a demon and walks like a demon...”

“That’s ducks,” Brittany corrected. “And he’s never attacked or hurt anyone, so
why
are you so anti-Trent?”

“Yeah. Good question,” I said. “Explain please.”

“I’m not anti-anything to do with Trent. But I’ve always gotten this unsettling vibe around him,” Ariana said, then turned her head to meet my steady gaze. “I wanna be supportive, but my loyalties lie with my best friend.”

The table fell silent. Sitting back, I caught sight of Trent, Daniel, and two other football players tossing a ball around in the quad. He must be doing a little recon of his own by making nice with the team. Carter and Coach Ramírez walked up to them and they stopped playing.

Swallowing hard, I lowered my voice and said, “Do you guys seriously think Trent could be possessed by a demon?”

“Why not? Kayla’s a zombie, you’re a witch, and there’s a man-eating lycan on the loose. Anything’s possible,” Ariana said.

Brittany nodded. “After witnessing my BFF as the walking dead, I’d believe anything. Just don’t tell me trolls are real. Because they give me the wiggins.” She fake shuddered.

Ariana sipped her water. “Where’s Kayla now?”

“At Craven Manor. Evans gave her a room. I’m meeting him later—”

“I’m going, too,” Ariana said firmly.

“So am I.” Brittany placed her elbows on the table, her eyes darting between us, her shoulders squared.

I sat back. “
Whoa
. Evans and I have this covered. The fewer people involved the better.”

“No way,” Brittany said. “Kayla might be a zombie now, but she’s still my best friend and I want to find the lycan that killed her,
and
whoever turned her into a zombie.”

“And since I’m
your
best friend, I’m helping, too.” Ariana waggled a finger at me. “No arguments.”

“Are you guys sure? It’ll be super boring.” My eyes went from one determined face to the other. Sighing, I sensed it would be useless to argue with them. “Fine. Tonight we study necromancy.”

“And lycans,” Ariana said.

“Don’t forget zombies,” Brittany added.

I rubbed the back of my neck. “Yeah. Those, too.”

Brittany stood with her tray. “Since that’s settled, I have more important things to do than sit and chat with you nerds. I’m working on a new date to the winter formal, and I see Michael Pike in the quad. See ya.” She stalked away.

“That girl needs a slap.” Ariana glared at Brittany’s back. “Maybe
we
don’t wanna be seen with
her.

“Ignore it.” I picked at the crust of my uneaten sandwich.

After we ate our lunch, Ariana and I passed by the courtyard, where fights were starting everywhere. Jocks and other boys were exchanging punches and kicks. One football player released a menacing growl, which startled the teens watching the fight. The menacing noise resounded above the grunts and moans of the other students.

Carter roared as a tall boy delivered several blows to his ribs. Another football player had a kid on the ground and punched him in the face, causing blood to spout from his nose. A few guys bumped into to me from behind to join the fight and one of them squeezed my butt. I couldn’t tell who had done it, or they would’ve gotten a punch in the mouth. Michael Pike did a spinning kick that caught a boy in the chest and sent him flying into a trashcan. The excess of testosterone and chaos had us backing up. I winced when some kid got socked in the nose.
Ouch.

Rumors had been circulating around the school about the Giants abusing steroids because of their sudden uncanny strength and agility. Not to mention the fighting and general moodiness. I was pretty sure that it wasn’t drug use, but something far more sinister.

I searched the area for Trent, but didn’t see him. I whipped my cell phone out and speed-dialed him. I smiled at Ariana, then turned away. It went directly to voicemail and I hung up.

Ariana elbowed me and pointed at Brittany, who stood next to the flagpole with her arms crossed, observing the fights. We hurried toward her.

“How did it start?” I asked.

“Who knows?” Brittany tapped her foot. “One minute I’m flirting with Michael, the next a football lands on the ground by our feet and Michael jumps up and
wham!
He leaps into the middle of a fight.”

Ari shook her head, ringlets bouncing. “What’s going on with these guys?”

“I have no idea, but whatever’s going on, it’s obviously getting worse,” I said.

Ariana and Brittany nodded in agreement.

“Worse than you think,” a male voice said.

My hand covered my pounding heart as Trent pushed away from the wall behind us. His leather jacket hung over one shoulder. I didn’t dare mention the butt pinch. He would’ve gone loco on the entire football team.

“You think the football players are taking drugs?” I asked.

“From what I can tell, they’re definitely on
something.
No normal human is that strong or that fast.”

“Was that why you were hanging with them today?” Brittany asked him. “Trying to get the inside scoop?”

Trent nodded. “Yup. Playing both sides.”

“Just be careful,” I warned.

“Always,” he said.

For a second he loomed closer, and his breath fanned my face, as though he was going to kiss me here, now, in front of Brittany and Ariana. Instead, he tucked a strand of loose hair behind my ear. My mind still struggled with the mystery of Trent’s strange eye color and uncanny strength, and since I wasn’t getting the sense that he was pure
evil,
just that he was definitely something else, I told myself to stop freaking out. That terrible night at Craven Manor had changed everyone who’d witnessed the inexplicable events, and somehow he must’ve been affected, too.

A couple of guys from the varsity team wearing football jerseys walked over and fist bumped with Trent. He winked at me and walked off with the boys.

“Ari, I’ll pick you up on my way to Craven Manor tonight,” I said, my gaze fastened to Trent’s backside.

Demonic or not, he still had a nice butt.

A huge raven circled overhead, its shadow passing over us. I shuddered. The bird soared on widespread wings that seemed as dark as my future.

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