Spellcaster (22 page)

Read Spellcaster Online

Authors: Cara Lynn Shultz

The fact that he just visited me in a dream—a very cryptic dream—confirmed my biggest fear: things were about to get bad. Very, very bad.

Chapter 12

Getting back to sleep was about as likely as me having a slumber party with Kristin Thorn and staying up all night, braiding her hair. I was wide-awake, an hour before I needed to be up for school.
I jumped in the shower, luxuriating in the warm stream of water, hoping the shower could at least work out some of the tension in my tight muscles as I thought about my mystifying dream.

I had just finished blowing my hair dry when I realized something that made me put down the dryer and pick up a full-fledged panic attack.

Emma, you are an idiot. You are Queen of the Idiots. Too stupid to function in polite society, I swear.

Ashley wasn’t going to school today. Which meant I was going alone. Megan could be waiting for me on the corner. She clearly had a mole at Vince A—who knew if she also knew where I lived? What my routine was?

My hands began to shake as I pictured my walk to school. It was a straight shot down Park Avenue, but of course I was imagining many more dark alleyways and sinister, deserted streets. Megan wanted payback. She was out for blood—in the literal
and
figurative senses of the phrase. And the lunar eclipse was Wednesday night—so she had a deadline looming.

I picked up my phone with trembling hands, hoping Brendan wasn’t on the subway. And then I noticed I had two text messages, the first sent early this morning.

Meet you in front of your building, taking you to school today.

In the second message, sent just ten minutes earlier, Brendan informed me he was already downstairs. I sighed shakily, relief flooding through me to the point of where I actually felt a little light-headed.

I got ready as quickly as I could and headed into the kitchen, greeting Aunt Christine as she poured herself a mug of steaming coffee from the freshly made pot. She was ready for her morning ritual of caffeine and NY1, the local news station.

“You’re up early,” she observed, picking up a barely damp lock of my hair. “You’re going to get pneumonia if you go outside with a wet head.”

“Isn’t that an old wives’ tale?” I asked, grabbing a granola bar out of the Waterford ice bucket on the counter.

“Consider it an old aunts’ tale.” She smiled. “It’s supposed to be chilly out today. We already had one family member in the hospital, we don’t need another.” Worry flickered across her face, and I impulsively hugged her.

“Ashley’s going to be fine,” I promised her, wishing I could tell her the truth. But I couldn’t see my way clear to explaining everything without Aunt Christine thinking I needed to be committed. She agonized over me enough without me adding questionable sanity to the equation.

“I hope so, dear.” She sighed as I grabbed my coat out of the hall closet. “I’ll feel better after she’s up and walking.”

“She’s milking the hell out of this, you know,” I added, shrugging on my coat. “Ashley could totally go to school today and be fine.”

“That’s what I thought,” Aunt Christine mused, leaning against the counter as she added half-and-half to her coffee. “Although I don’t think Dan minds her staying home a few more days. Anything to keep that boy away from her.”

“Oh, Liam’s harmless. He’s a good kid,” I told her. “Brendan likes him fine.”

“Ah, the ubiquitous Brendan,” she said, an entertained smile on her face. “We had a nice little chat while you were in with Ashley at the hospital.”

Uh-oh.
“Oh, about what?” I asked casually, pretending to study the oh-so-fascinating pattern on a nearby linen napkin.

“When I asked him if he had called his parents to explain his lateness, he said they were in South America, and would be there until today, possibly even tomorrow.” She paused, giving me a speculative look as I stared down, tracing the Celtic knot embroidered in the napkin with the tip of my finger. “I get the idea they leave him alone
a lot.

I braced myself for a lecture about the lack of parental supervision at Brendan’s house—I was over there enough—but what she said next surprised me.

“Such a shame, young boy like that, alone all the time,” she clucked, taking another sip of her coffee. “No wonder he’s so devoted to you.”

So much so that he’s downstairs waiting for you. That he even admitted to being lonely without you… You are so going to make out with his face hardcore the second you see him.

“Yeah, he’s pretty awesome,” I agreed, and Aunt Christine just snorted at my dreamy tone.

“Well, get to school, young lady. Just three more days and you’re free to cavort around Manhattan with your beau for a week and a half.”

I kissed Aunt Christine on the cheek and headed downstairs, where I found Brendan leaning against a streetlight a few doors away. He was looking down, his hands in his pockets and his cheaper headphones on as he bounced his head in time to whatever he was listening to.

Brendan looked up and pulled the headphones down around his neck, his black hair hanging in his green eyes, As soon as he smiled—a little shyly at me—I couldn’t help myself. I bounded over to him, grabbing the collar of his jacket and pulling his head down to meet mine. It was an entirely inappropriate kiss to have this close to the doorman. At this time of the morning. Although the way I wanted to rip his shirt off pretty much made the kiss inappropriate for any time of day.

His hand raked roughly through my hair, clutching a fistful at the back of my head as held me closer. When I pulled away, I gently bit his bottom lip—one of his trademark moves—eliciting a soft moan.

“Well, good morning to me,” Brendan murmured as he wrapped his arms around me, clasping his hands at my lower back.

“I didn’t expect that kind of greeting,” he confessed, giving me a half smile as I hugged him back. “Especially after our talk last night, I figured it would be a long time before I got a reaction like that.”

“Eh, what can I say? I love the hell out of you. And you’re really hot, so there’s that,” I said flippantly, my voice muffled by his jacket. He laughed a low rumble that vibrated in his chest.

“That makes me so happy to hear.” He sighed, stroking my hair. “The love part, not the hot part. Although that’s nice that you think that.”

I looked up at him and grinned a big toothy grin.

“You’re so damn adorable it kills me sometimes,” he said, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

“If you start kissing me we’ll never get to school,” I said, reluctantly pulling away. He took my hand and started leading me away from Park Avenue.

“I, um, pulled the Son of the CEO card and called in use of the company car service,” he explained. “The car is waiting on Madison.”

“Whoa, déjà vu,” I muttered. He’d had the company limo take me to and from school the week before the winter dance when I had a sprained ankle.

“It’s not a limo this time,” he said apologetically, pointing toward the sleek black car idling at the curb. “Just a regular car service.”
Oh, just a regular car service—you know, a regular old luxury Lincoln Town Car. That old thing.

“I didn’t want to attract attention to you in case Megan—” a repulsed look crossed his face as he said her name “—was stalking you somewhere. This is about keeping you safe, first and foremost.”

“Thank you, but I can’t stay under lock-and-key until Angelique and I figure out some way to stop her,” I said matter-of-factly as Brendan opened the car door for me. I slid across the soft beige leather seat and he followed, pulling the door shut behind him. “Not that I’m complaining about the chauffeur service,” I added, hesitantly eyeing the driver, who confirmed Vince A’s address with Brendan before pulling out into traffic.
With what he’s about to overhear, he’s going to think we’re a few hippies short of a drum circle.

“At least this provides her with less of an opportunity to pull something on you going to and from school,” Brendan argued, shifting in the backseat so he was facing me. He then dropped his voice, glancing at the driver. “Especially if that binding spell Angelique and Randi did isn’t effective.”

“Are you going to pick me up every single day?” I asked, secretly hoping he would and secretly feeling like a big loser for wanting him to.

“You know it.” He nodded vehemently, cradling my face in his hand.

“That’s probably a good thing,” I said, leaning into his touch before taking a deep breath. “I had a dream last night.”

“Oh?” Brendan said absentmindedly, resting his head on the back of the seat as he slid his hand through my hair, pulling me a little closer.

“Ethan was in it,” I whispered, and he halted his advances.

“That kind of dream?” he asked, darting his eyes to the driver, who didn’t seem to be paying much attention to us. I nodded, and Brendan squeezed his eyes tightly, frowning.

“What was it about?”

I recapped the fairly gory dream as quickly and as quietly as I could.

“I just feel like it means that things are about to go from bad to worse,” I admitted.

“What could that mean—the thing with the sun and the mirrors?” Brendan whispered, as the driver turned down Eighty-sixth Street, pulling up alongside Vincent Academy.

“I guess the sun turning black is supposed to be the lunar eclipse? So I guess something is going to happen before then? I don’t know…I do know I wish Ethan wouldn’t be so damn cryptic,” I huffed, dropping my head against the back of the seat with a dull thud as Brendan gave me a sympathetic smile.

Brendan thanked the driver and confirmed a pickup for six—when I was done with my after-school shift at the library. We headed into the school—Brendan accompanying me to my horrid, dank basement locker so I could pick up the books that I hadn’t left in his fourth-floor locker, which was our next stop. While he rifled through his belongings, I looked at the pictures taped on the inside door. An old shot of him deejaying with a friend shared space with another photo booth strip of pics of us. We’d spent
a lot
of time goofing around in that photo booth.

“I love this picture,” I said, tapping the third photo in the strip, where we held our hands out and looked away, pretending to be celebrities irritated with the paparazzi.

“That was a fun day,” he said, throwing his arms around my shoulders from behind, pulling me back so I was practically leaning against his chest.

“We should get going to class,” he said, kissing the top of my head. “See you in English.” I turned around to face him, darting a look around to see if any teachers were nearby. The last thing we needed was detention for P.D.A. A few students roamed the halls, but no authority figures.
Score!

I wrapped the tip of his black tie around my hand then pulled him down for a big, inappropriate kiss that made the one I gave him earlier practically suitable for church.

“If this is how you’re going to react, I’ll pick you up every single day until graduation,” Brendan said, his breathing a little heavy as he rested his palms on the row of lockers behind me, trapping me between his arms.

“Ashley wouldn’t appreciate it if we pawed at each other in front of her,” I teased him.

“Ashley’s going to be plenty busy pawing at Liam,” Brendan said, raising an eyebrow.

“Did he say anything to you?” I asked, and Brendan shook his head.

“No, but he didn’t have to. That kid’s so obvious he might as well print up T-shirts with her face on them.”

I laughed as the first bell rang, and I hurried to history, sliding into my chair behind Jenn, who for once wasn’t hungover. She slid sideways in her seat, banging on the top of my desk to get my attention as I fished in my backpack for my books.

“Emma, what happened this weekend? Is Ashley okay? I heard she passed out! Tell me!” she demanded, banging on the desk again.

“You’re loud when you’re not hungover,” I told her, and she frowned.

“I’m
grounded,
” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “I decided to skip the Battle of the Bands and went to hang out with my sister instead. But I got so drunk I forgot I was staying with Jill at the dorms and hailed a cab home. I woke up on the couch with my parents screaming at me.” She rubbed her temples at the memory.

“My spring break is going to suck.” She sulked, her bottom lip stuck out in a pout as she considered her situation. Truthfully, I was a little relieved her parents caught her, for her sake. I could think of worse things for Jenn than a forced party break.

“So, Ashley?” Jenn resumed pestering me.

“She’s fine—totally exaggerating it to score a few days off from school,” I added, deciding to toe the party line of what her doctors assumed had happened. “Her blood sugar dropped—it was just a fluke.”

“Well, that’s good. Poor kid. Glad she’s okay, though,” Jenn said, turning around in her chair as Mrs. Urbealis strode into the classroom. I was glad I’d squeezed in some actual, normal homework last night in between studying Randi’s grimoire and talking to Brendan—Mrs. Urbealis sprung a pop quiz on us. I turned it in, confident I knew every answer except the last one. We got a pop quiz in math as well, but that one was easy. It was as if the teachers were getting in their last licks before spring break started. Mr. Agneta screeched the chalk on the blackboard twice, and the last time we weren’t even being loud.

After math, Jenn and I headed to English—her bemoaning her performance on the pop quizzes providing the soundtrack for our walk. I slid into my seat behind Brendan’s empty desk—no surprise there, he usually arrived late, sauntering into class in his signature disheveled state. All he needed was a guitar and he could be strolling on stage at Madison Square Garden.

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