|
|
Chapter One
Genevieve Weist sent a scowl down at her
English test. Fifty-seven percent? That was absurd.
Sure, she only skimmed through the five hundred page book the night before
the test, and she'd barely answered half the questions...but her
non-studying ways usually got her better grades than that.
She
slumped back in her seat. What a way to start a Monday.
"How'd you do?" Merri whispered from behind her.
Gen held
up the test over her shoulder in answer. "You?"
Merri handed
her the test. Ninety-six? Goddamn!
Probably just 'cause she
psychic, Gen thought with disgust. There should
probably be a rule against people taking tests when they magically already
know all the answers. Of course, the fact that she'd actually read
the book probably helped with passing the reading test...
But
ninety-six in one of Kern's classes was just plain wrong.
"How
about you, Lev?" Gen asked, turning to her best friend. Before he
could answer--or cover the paper from her prying eye--she saw the red mark
at the top. "Eighty-two? Don't you dare tell my mom or she's
going to kill me."
"Books gathered up, folks," Kern said.
"It's your first work session for your presentations."
"We're
having presentations?" Gen whispered to Levi.
"Yeah. We
picked groups last week, remember?"
Gen vaguely remembered
something like that. "Do we have a topic?"
"Psychology in
What's
Bred In The Bone," Merri informed her.
"Ah. Glad you
two are on top of things." She had just gotten her notebooks packed
in her messenger bag when her gaze caught a figure hanging in the
classroom doorway.
"Who's she?" Levi asked before Gen could.
"Dunno, but I just kind of hope she's staying," Gen replied with a
grin. Though of average height and build, her features were cute and
girlish. Long, curly brown hair was pulled up into pigtails...and
Genevieve just loved pigtails. At least when they were the
cute/playful kind instead of the Lolita/whore type.
"You just
sighed."
"Huh?" Gen tore her eyes from the new girl to see
what the hell Levi was talking about.
"You sighed. It was
all dreamy-like."
"No I didn't!"
"Yeah, you did," Merri
agreed.
Oh well. Maybe she had. But since when were
cute girls not sigh-worthy?
Kern went to the door to speak to the
girl, then gestured for her to enter the classroom.
"Find a
group--we'll be heading to the library soon," Kern told her.
The
girl stepped inside, glancing around the room, no doubt looking for an
available seat.
And then she promptly tripped over someone's
knapsack and nearly fell headfirst into a desk before she corrected
herself.
As a few people snickered, the new girl plopped down at
the empty desk in front of Gen.
"Hi," she said, turning her dark
eyes Gen's way. "My name is Peyton Rice, and I'm a klutz."
"I'm Genevieve Weist and I'm a recovering klutz," Gen replied with
a grin. She caught Levi's gaze then, and corrected herself.
"Well, that is to say I have the occasional relapse."
Gen gave
Levi a look, and he rolled his eyes and nodded his okay.
"Would
you like to join our group?" Gen said.
Peyton appeared relieved at
the offer. "Absolutely...as long as you're not worried I'm going to
break something. One question though...what are we doing in groups?"
Genevieve decided to have Meredith field that question, and she
and Peyton took the lead as the class left the room for the library.
"She's hot," Levi whispered when he and Gen were out of earshot of
Peyton.
"She is," Gen agreed.
"Yeah, well, don't get any
ideas," Levi warned with a snort. "Statistically, it's more likely
she's straight, and I don't want you to be all disappointed when she's out
with me."
"Actually, I've read that all women are at least a
little bisexual."
"Hmm." Levi gave that possibility some
thought. "Okay then, threesome?"
"Right," Gen replied with a
roll of her eyes.
"Fine. Can I at least watch?"
"We'll see."
Of course, she did know he was right.
The fact that she already knew two lesbians, her age, who were out,
suggested she wouldn't be meeting any others any time soon. A sure
way of telling, however, would be how much Levi decided he liked
her. If she was his new obsessive crush...well, odds dictated she
was either seriously involved with someone of the opposite sex, or
preferred the attention of someone of the same sex.
Levi and his
unattainable crushes... Immediately, Gen's thoughts fell to
Sage. No one had seen her since the funeral, at least as far as she
knew, and that had been over three weeks ago. Levi wouldn't breathe
her name, so she had no idea if he was still mad at her or what.
He should be mad at me too, she realized, sending a
guilty glance at her friend. She knew at first he blamed Sage for
Hayden's attack, and probably for his subsequent death as well, because
she was involved in "something" and that something had trickled into the
lives of those around her. But that was Gen's something as well, and
it ate at her insides to not be able to tell him the truth.
Though
Gen had tried calling the Bethanys' once, Diana had said Sage was out, and
that she'd pass on the message. Sage never called back.
Whether or not Michael or Merri had seen her, Gen couldn't
tell. Without Sage harping at her to go there all the time--and with
the threat to their lives apparently dormant for the time being--Genevieve
avoided Michael's place as much as possible, which translated to visiting
once every four days or so. She never saw Sage there, and Merri had
never said a word about it either.
Meredith--ever the studious
one--immediately went to look for books once the groups reached the
library, while Gen had already forgotten what it was they were supposed to
be researching.
"So you just moved here?" Gen asked Peyton as the
remaining group members put up chairs to a round table.
"Yeah,"
Peyton said quickly, then rethought it and shook her head. "Well,
like, no, I haven't moved here yet, 'cause stuff got delayed where my dad
works, so we had to wait another month, and then they--my parents--decided
to send me to stay with my aunt so I didn't miss anymore school, though
over a month is still a lot, 'cause I've already missed stuff--didn't even
read this book yet." She sucked in a deep breath and blushed a
little. "Okay, sorry, I talk, like, a lot." Her face was animated
and expressive, and she was oblivious to her hands flying around excitedly
when she spoke. No wonder she was worried about knocking things
over, but Gen found it more cute than anything.
"So anyway,"
Peyton continued. "I ended up coming here, though Mom was all like
worried and talked about sending me to the Catholic school--which I'm
Pentecostal so why would I go there?--because she thought it was violent
because of that guy who got stabbed and died--"
The energy around
the table noticeably dropped. Levi cast his gaze down towards his
books and Peyton immediately realized something was wrong.
"I'm
sorry--was the guy a friend? Did you know him?"
"Levi's
brother," Gen said gently.
Peyton's eyes grew huge and she clasped
her hand to her mouth. "I am so sorry, I had no idea..."
Levi shook his head. "It's okay, I know you didn't."
"So did they catch the guy who did it?"
Again, Levi shook
his head, and Gen involuntarily winced. I wish I could tell him...
Hell, I wish we could have at least found the guy
who attacked him. But Michael still didn't know who it was.
She was sure he'd tell Merri if he knew, and Merri promised to keep Gen
informed.
"I'm sorry, Levi, I didn't know--I should probably start
thinking before I open my big mouth."
"Naw, it's okay." Levi
offered her a weak smile. He was dealing, Gen knew.
Counselling at the school twice a week. Counselling with his parents
once a week. Counselling without his parents two more times a week. He'd be
a therapist himself in no time, but Felix and Jackie Greene insisted, and
Levi wasn't arguing.
Genevieve was about to speak when an
announcement came in over the P.A. system.
"Ms. Kern, do you have
grade eleven advance English there?" the secretary asked.
Kern
acknowledged she did.
"Is a Genevieve Weist in class today?"
Gen started at the sound of her name. What the hell had she
done now? She never "did" anything. Doing stuff would get her
noticed, and coasting was much more fun.
"She is," Kern said,
sending a glance Gen's way.
"She's to come down to the office now,
and bring her things with her."
Oh, shit. Bring her
books? That could only mean she wasn't coming back to class...
"She'll be right down," Kern informed the secretary.
Gen
gathered her bag, which at least she hadn't unpacked yet, gave the others
an apologetic wave goodbye, and reluctantly wandered down to the office,
dragging her feet as she went.
"Genevieve Weist, you called me
down here," Gen said when the secretary finally acknowledged her in the
office.
"Your father called," the woman said, handing Gen a slip
of paper. "Said he got you an appointment, and he'd be here to pick
you up right now."
Gen looked over the piece of paper with the
woman's messy writing. Nothing more there than what she had said.
"Did he say what the appointment was for?"
"None of my
business, dear." The woman looked down at her computer screen and
began typing, making it clear the conversation was over.
Under any
other circumstances, she would have been glad to be out of English class,
but appointments usually signalled bad things, like dentists and
fillings...
Outside the school, Gen stopped a few metres from the
driveway. She didn't see any cars, and figured her dad wasn't there
yet.
"Gen!"
She turned to see Stephie hop up from the
grassy knoll where she sat with a handful of other stoners and run towards
her.
"Hey Steph--"
"Okay, quick," Stephie said, grabbing
her by the shoulders, voice urgent. "I have an appointment with the
guidance counsellor in like ten minutes--does my breath smell like Jack
Daniels?" Without warning she breathed heavily into Genevieve's
face.
Gen scrunched up her nose. "No, but you smell like
weed."
"Oh, 'kay, that's a relief."
"It is?"
Stephie shrugged. "I'm pretty sure he puts hash oil in his
cigarettes, so he'd better not say anything." Her gaze drifted over
Gen's shoulder, then her eyes lit up. "Ooh, hot!"
Gen
followed the direction her friend was starting at, and sighed as she
recognized the new black convertible with the roof drawn down...and worst
of all, the figure driving it.
"Great," she muttered.
"You
know him?" Stephie said immediately. "Who is that?"
Someone who isn't my father.
"I'll talk to you later."
"Seriously, who is--"
"Just, uh...art school guy. He
can get supplies real cheap from this warehouse so we're going to pick
some up." At least that sounded semi-believable. If he'd just
kept the old four door car, the roof would be hiding him and she wouldn't
have to explain to Stephie who he was.
"Can I come?"
"Bye,
Steph."
Gen trudged toward the car, leaving Stephie--and probably
a gazillion questions--in her wake.
"Why, you're not my dad!" Gen
said, feigning astonishment as she stopped next to the passenger side of
Michael's car.
"Get in," he said, baring glancing at her in
acknowledgement.
"I don't get in cars with strangers."
"Now."
Grumbling under her breath, Gen complied, throwing
her bag into the back. She slammed the door shut and crossed her
arms over her chest.
"You know, you interrupted a really great
class," she pouted as he swung the car out of the driveway and onto the
road.
"Really?" he said sceptically, still not looking at her.
Sure, she'd bitched enough times about school when she was
supposed to be putting out candles with her mind or whatever, but that
certainly didn't give him permission to kidnap her from English.
"Yes. I was talking to a very cute girl, and I really don't
appreciate the conversation being interrupted. What am I going to do
if Levi starts dating her before I can convince her she likes girls?
Hmm? Did you ever think of that?"
He didn't reply, so she
slumped back and sulked awhile longer.
"So where are we going?"
"We're going to see a woman about a book."
"Is
she cute?"
"Haven't met her."
"What
kind of book?"
He gave her one of his, "Could you be any more
stupid?" looks, and she understood. It must be a spell book.
"And why do I have to come?" she asked, reminding him he hadn't
filled her in on that part of the plan.
"She'll only sell it to a
witch."
"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard--why?"
He shrugged. "Some don't like to sell to collectors--they'll
only part with a book if they know it'll be used. The potential
seller said she'd only like another witch to have it."
"Wait, so
she's..." Even though they were in a car driving fast enough that no
one could possible hear them, Gen dropped her voice nonetheless. "A
witch?"
Another glance, telling her she was stupid for asking,
followed in answer.
"So there are other witches?"
"Of
course there are."
"Well then, why haven't you been bugging them
instead of me? Jesus Christ, there's all these other goddamn witches
running around selling spell books, and you still insist I'm the special
one?"
"Unfortunately."
"Are there love spells in the spell
book? Something that'll work on the cute girl I had to leave so I
could go with you to get this stupid book?"
"It's doubtful."
"Why do I need the book again?"
"It has highly advanced
spells."
"Like fireballs?"
"No."
"That's not very
advanced."
Gen wasn't sure where they were driving, but at least
they seemed to be staying in town. Michael drove them to a block of
newer apartment buildings and condos, and as Gen gazed around, she
realized she vaguely recognized the area.
"Hey, doesn't Mer live
around here somewhere? Sage and I walked her home one night, and I
think it was to one of these buildings."
"I believe so," he said
as he pulled the car into the parking lot beneath one building. He
seemed to know where they were going, so Gen just grabbed her bag as she
got out of the convertible, and followed him.
Michael led her out
of the dark parking lot to the main entrance. A wall of pristine
glass panels gave Gen a glimpse into the foyer. It was definitely a
nice apartment building. She spent a lot of time at Stephie's
building, where there was finger prints all over the glass, the buzzers
didn't work, and a few of the mailboxes didn't lock properly. But
this place was pure class, and either the superintendent spent his or her
time constantly cleaning, or the landlord hired outside help, because
there wasn't a speck of dirt anywhere.
Michael buzzed one of the
apartments, and a minute later a woman's voice sounded over the intercom.
"Yes?"
"This is Michael Parris."
"Your last name
is Parris?" Gen whispered.
"That is what I said," he hissed back.
It was strange to realize she'd known the guy for over a month and
yet never knew his full name before. At least it seemed Sage was
wrong, and he wasn't related to Merri, though.
"I'm here to see
Krysta about a book," he continued, shooting Genevieve a "keep your mouth
shut" look, and Gen found it equally strange that a guy who showed nothing
but displeasure with every task she'd ever seen him have to perform, he
managed to have very distinct, readable expressions.
The security
door unlocked and Michael tugged it open.
Inside the foyer, across
from the mailboxes, was an elevator, and beyond that a stairwell.
From outside, Gen counted at least a dozen floors, so she was relieved
when Michael went straight to the elevator.
He didn't say a word
to her on the way up. Gen was grateful for that, though--when he did
speak to her, she rarely liked what he had to say.
The elevator
halted at the seventh floor and the doors powered open. Michael
seemed to know where he was going--he didn't pause to check the numbers on
the doors or cease his step for a moment. Instead, he walked
confidently down the hallway to the number 7-F, the final door at the end
of the corridor.
Gen held behind him a little as he knocked,
having no idea what to expect. Creepy old lady who cackles?
Ditzy twenty-something claiming to be a "white witch?" A crazy
person with fifteen cats and pentagrams all over the walls?
The
door opened...and none of the above was waiting for them.
A
stunningly beautiful woman slid her hand up the doorframe lazily and gazed
at them with eyes like liquid chocolate. A magenta silk kimono
casually hugged her body, complimenting both her medium brown skin and
shapely figure.
At least this Krysta woman is
cute,
Gen thought, though there was something predatory in the woman's
eyes. Beautiful, but unsettling...
Okay, I wanna go back and
see Peyton now.
Krysta's stare bore into Michael for a
moment, then slid to Genevieve, and she cocked a dark brow.
"Is
this a joke?" she asked Michael, a half smile turning the corners of her
full lips upward.
"We're here for the book," he said.
"And
I told you I would only sell to a witch."
Michael gestured behind
him to Genevieve. "That's her."
Krysta looked at Gen with
clear scepticism. "Look, Michael, I don't care about how much you
want the book--bringing your little jailbait girlfriend here to get it
isn't going to work."
"Eww, I'm not--" Gen was silenced by a
glare from Michael.
"I told you on the phone she was young.
But she's got potential, and I want the book."
I've got potential?
That
was definitely the nicest thing he'd ever said about her, though she
hadn't ruled out the possibility he was just lying so he could buy the
spell book he wanted.
Krysta regarded them in silence for a
moment, then stepped back from the doorway and let the door swing
open. "Come in and sit down."
Gen followed close behind
Michael as they stepped into the apartment. Sure, he almost let her
die a couple of weeks ago, but Krysta still creeped her out more.
Immediately inside the door was the living room. The fluffy
floral-patterned couch and love seat seemed more reminiscent of Gen's
mother's taste than that of an attractive thirty-something women who sold
spell books and lounged around in what looked like an expensive robe, but
Genevieve took a seat on the couch next to Michael anyway. Krysta
sat across from them, draping one long leg over the other, and while it
wasn't quiet Sharon-Stone-in-Basic-Instinct revealing or anything, Gen
made a point to avert her gaze from the expanse of leggy flesh exposed as
the robe slipped a little.
"So what can your girl do?" Krysta
asked coolly.
"She's just learning," Michael said.
Krysta
shook her head. "I told you the other night, Michael, I will only
sell this to a witch. Not I, nor the owner before me, nor the one
before him, wish this to belong to anyone who isn't one of us. That
was the deal."
"She--"
"That was the deal," she repeated.
A strange feeling of pride twisted through Gen. She may not
welcome the responsibility Michael thrust upon her, but at this point she
could at least be sure she had some sort of power. Power to put out
a candle, maybe, but power nonetheless.
Krysta's gaze flickered
Gen's way, and Gen felt her face heat up with embarrassment.
Nope, don't look at me--just take this up with
Michael...
"You have something to say?" Krysta asked.
"Well, I...uh..." Gen didn't bother chancing a look at
Michael, instead straightening her back and attempting to put on a brave
front. "I'm not like just any witch. I'm like
the Witch. With a capital W and everything."
"What the hell is she talking about?" Krysta directed to
Michael. "What have you been filling the kid's head with?"
"She doesn't mean anything." Michael gave Gen a swift glare,
and she slumped back on the couch, crossing her arms in annoyance.
"I don't think this book is for you," Krysta said. "There
might be something in my collection that interests you--"
"I want
that one."
"Well, you're not going to get it."
"Just give
him the freakin' book, lady!" Gen said suddenly. "I'll be getting
more use of it than you!"
Michael turned to her sharply.
"Keep your goddamn mouth shut, unless spoken to," he growled.
"But
she--"
"I mean it."
"You think I haven't seen this a dozen
times before, Michael?" Krysta said. "A collector shows up, ditzy
little plaything in tow, thinking I lied about the conditions put forth,
and I'm merely looking for an excuse to sell the book? That isn't
how it works."
"Where's your washroom?" Michael said abruptly.
Krysta gestured over her shoulder. "First door on the right,
down the hall."
Michael glanced at Gen. "Go."
"But I
don't--"
"Yes you do. Go."
Grumbling under her
breath, Gen stood and stomped in the direction Krysta indicated.
Presumably, Michael wanted to have a private conversation with the stupid
witch...unless "go to the bathroom" was code for "go look for the book so
we can steal it." That could be possible...though it would have been
nice for him to let her in on the plan before they got to the apartment.
In the narrow hallway, Gen saw the first right door open, beyond
which she saw the spacious bathroom of gleaming white tile and Jacuzzi
tub. Past it was a second, more narrow door--possibly a linen
closet. At the end of the hall was a closed door that Gen guessed
led to the bedroom.
I wonder... Could she sneak in there
without anyone noticing? Possibly. It depended on whether or
not Michael was keeping Krysta's attention away from her.
Before
Gen went for the door, she decided to glance over her shoulder and check
if they were watching her.
They were. Two pairs of eyes
stared at her; Michael's were annoyed, and Krysta's looked curious.
"It's right there beside you," she said.
Gen's face got
red. "Oh, yeah. Right. Okay..." She slipped into
the bathroom, switched on the light, and closed the door before she could
make more of a fool of herself. She leaned heavily against the door
and sighed. Wow, this sucked. She missed English class.
Not have to actually use the facilities, Gen used the time to look
around. No sign of any spell book. No sign of much, truth be
told. Everything was very clean, very white, and very...cold.
Nothing cluttered the sink, everything was in its place...the woman was
definitely weird.
Make that fucking
creepy,
she thought as she cracked open the cabinet under the sink. Still no
spell book, but there was a small, lit votive candle--black--and various
dried plants arranged in a ring around it. A few stones were
scattered about, polished and gleaming in the dim light, and off to the
side was a wax human-shaped figure, about the length of her hand, with no
discernable details or features.
The whole thing was like a
Satanic-ritual scene straight out of a lame horror movie, minus a few dead
creatures and a victim strapped to an alter. With a little shudder,
she closed the cabinet doors and hoped Michael would finish arguing soon
so they could get the hell out of there.
Gen sat on the edge of
the bathtub, unsure of how long she was supposed to stay there, or even
how long she'd already been in exile since she hadn't worn her
watch. When sufficient time had passed--and her butt was sore from
the tub--she stood and cracked open the door.
Michael and Krista
still sat in the living room, and she let out a laugh.
At least they're getting along...
Gen crept back into the hallways towards
the couches. Both Michael and Krysta noticed her approach, the
latter rising and smoothing out her robe.
"I'll get that wrapped
up for you," she said brightly, and stepped past Genevieve in the
direction of the bedroom.
Gen turned to Michael in shock.
"What the--"
"Shut up," he advised.
"But is she really
getting the book?" Gen hissed.
"Just sit and wait."
Minutes later, Krysta returned with a book-shaped package in brown
wrapping paper. Michael stood and accepted it and handed her an
envelope in return. Gen had no idea what he might be paying her, but
it was clearly cash, and probably a lot of it.
Relief washed over
her as she saw Michael head towards the door, and Gen was quick to
follow. The sight of the open door and hallway beyond it--an exit
from the unsettling Apartment of Doom--was almost too much, and she rushed
through the threshold immediately, pushing past Michael. Only a few
steps down the corridor, however, and she realized he hadn't followed.
Glancing behind her, Gen saw Michael had paused just outside the
doorway where Krysta faced him, still with that wicked smile to her lips.
"I may come across some other pieces you might be interested in,"
she said, putting her hand on his upper arm casually and running her
fingers down to his wrist.
What a slut!
God,
the very sight had Gen shuddering.
"You have my number," he
replied.
"That I do."
Seriously grossed out, Gen turned
and stalked toward the elevator, hoping to get away from them before they
started going at it right out there in the hallway. She mashed the
button to call the elevator a few times before he joined her, and they
both got in without saying a word.
"She was like such a friggin'
skank!" Genevieve erupted as soon as the elevator doors closed, then she
snatched the book from his grasp suddenly, turning it over in her
hands. "Jeez, what the hell did you have to agree to do just to get
this?"
He jerked the book away from her as the elevator came to a
halt, and they stepped out into the foyer.
"Seriously, did you
have to like whore yourself out to get that book or something?
Because I'm willing to bet you'll catch a lot of diseases."
"Would
you just shut the hell up already?" he said as he yanked open the car door
and threw the book on the backseat. "I had to part with an obscenely
large amount of money to get that book, as well as lie through my teeth
about the extent of your abilities. Now get in the damn car."
She did as he asked, not saying anything else until the car was on
the road once again.
"You know, she really wigged me out," Gen
said, casting a wary gaze in Michael's direction, waiting to see if he'd
yell at her again. When he kept his eyes on the street and didn't
say a word, she tried again. "Didn't she wig you out?"
"No."
"Then I guess you must not have been paying attention. She
also had this creepy thing in her bathroom cabinet. I'm pretty sure
she's evil."
"I'm pretty sure you're paranoid," he muttered.
"Yeah, well, some healthy paranoia never hurt anyone. There
was this wax figure that looked like a person in there. I bet she's
got pins and stabs it or whatever they do in voodoo."
"Forget the
spell book--I'm buying you a damn encyclopaedia of religions so you can
actually start knowing what the hell you're talking about."
"Okay,
fine, it's not voodoo. It's Satanism. She's a Satanist--if I
hadn't been there as a witness, you could have been seduced into being
some bondage sex slave for her cult."
"Pity that," he muttered.
Genevieve scrunched up her face. "Ew! Fine, next time
we run into a slutty Satanist, I'll just leave you to become a sacrifice
to their dark lord or whatever."
"She isn't a Satanist."
"You don't know that."
He rolled his eyes. "I think
there'd have to be a Satan for her to worship as a Satanist."
"There isn't?"
"No."
"Oh. Are they're demons
or monsters or something? 'Cause she might be one of those."
"She isn't."
"Well that just makes her scarier 'cause we
don't know what she is." Gen checked her watch. "I've
basically missed English but at least I can make lunch. Maybe they
got Peyton to eat with us...you'd better hope so, or I'm turning you into
a toad for ruining my day."
Ahead, Gen saw the dark brown brick of
her high school come into view, then disappear as they passed it.
"Hey!" She twisted in her seat to see the school grow
smaller and smaller, then swung back around to confront Michael.
"What the hell?"
"I'm getting you lunch."
"Uh, I can eat
lunch back at school. It's very modern--they have a cafeteria and
everything, so if you insist on spending more money on me today, you can
just give me the cash to do it myself." He wasn't slowing the car
down however, and drove them into the downtown core where various fast
food places dotted the main road. He swung the car into a Wendy's
drive-thru and proceeded to order without so much ask asking her what she
wanted, though he seemed to be buying at least enough for half a dozen
people, so she figured she'd have some options.
"Can you just let
me take it with me?" she asked once they were on the road again, bags of
food sitting on her lap. "I'm gonna miss my next class."
"You're not going to your next class."
Though it was true
she was in a moving vehicle, pushing open the door and jumping out still
seemed more enjoyable than staying with him any longer. She
recognized the road that led to his house, and she felt the desire to leap
to her possible doom rise even more.
"This is officially
kidnapping."
Michael pulled the car to a halt in his driveway, but
made no move to get out. Instead, he turned to face her, and Gen
shifted her gaze away, not liking the serious look to his expression.
"You haven't been practicing any of exercises I've told you to,"
he said, less of an accusation, and more a statement of fact.
"Of
course I have--"
"No, you haven't."
Sure, she hadn't even
attempted any of the minor spells and meditations he'd told her to...but
then she didn't do her algebra homework either. Nothing new there,
and certainly not worthy of a lecture.
Though she expected him to
go on about that for awhile, he caught her off guard with a sudden change
of subject.
"When was the last time you ate?" he asked.
"Uh, breakfast."
"You're lying."
She rolled her
eyes. "God, why do you bother asking me something if you've already
decided the answer?"
"When was the last time you ate?" he
repeated, more forcefully this time.
Genevieve had to pause and
think on it. She just hadn't felt very hungry lately--she hardly saw
why he cared so much.
"I don't know...yesterday?"
"You've
noticeably lost weight--you've barely eaten in weeks."
"Your
concern is really touching, Michael," she snapped as she turned to look at
him.
"And you're having nightmares."
She swallowed hard,
but didn't say anything.
"This needs to stop."
Her gaze
dropped downward and she fidgeted with the strap of her bag. Why
couldn't he just leave her alone? So what if she didn't eat?
Couldn't sleep? Felt physically sick at the thought of trying
anything else from a damn spell book? He was ready to watch her
die--in fact, she wouldn't put it past him to try it himself--so why
bother her with this?
"You don't understand," she said quietly
rather than yell at him, chewing nervously at her bottom lip. "You
don't know what it's like...the magic, when I do stuff...it's like I'm not
completely me. Like there's someone else there. And I hurt
those people, and..." Tears filled her eyes, but she pushed them
back, forced them away--vowed she wouldn't ever cry in front of him
again. "And my friend is dead, and he wouldn't be if all this hadn't
happened. So no, I don't much feel like eating or practicing your
stupid spells, and yeah, I have a lot of nightmares."
"And this
needs to stop. We don't have time for this." He suddenly
snatched up the bags of food, grabbed the book from the back, and got out
of the car.
What a fucking prick.
She grabbed her back
and got out of the car as well, slamming the door behind her, and stalked
toward him just as he was heading inside. Dammit, he could fucking
go to hell! A couple of moments of almost humanity had nearly tricked
her, but then she saw his true face again, and she was ready to kill him.
"I don't see why it's any of your goddamn business--you don't care
anyway..." Her voice trailed off as she got inside and saw Sage at
the back of the room by the punching bag, boxing gloves on, hitting and
kicking with sweat dripping off her forehead. Gen almost did a
double take—gone were her shoulder-length black braids, and instead her
hair was straight and cut short. But otherwise she looked the
same...
Except for a scarily determined look to her eyes.
Sage didn't glance in her direction as Gen stepped into the room,
not taking her eyes from her target even when Genevieve offered a hello.
"Sage, lunch," Michael called, emptying the bags of take-out onto
the table, and Sage dropped what she was doing to walk over in
silence. Michael thrust a bowl of salad and a baked potato to an
empty spot and gestured for Genevieve to sit down.
She dropped her
bag at the door and took the seat across from Sage, narrowing missing
being hit by the pack of plastic utensils Michael threw at her.
"Haven't seen you at school," Genevieve ventured, attempting a
casual tone as she poured a packet of dressing on the salad.
"Haven't been there," Sage returned, eyes on her food.
"Taking the semester off?"
Sage shook her head.
"Just dropped a couple of classes I didn't need. Mom hired a tutor
for a few weeks for the others."
"Don't you need a certain number
of hours in the class to get credit for it?"
She shrugged.
"They said as long as I pass the exam this semester, they don't care."
Genevieve had what seemed like a million questions for her.
How was she doing? Would she ever come back to school? How
long had she been coming to Michael's without telling anyone? But
Sage had never seemed to want to talk to her before, and she didn't
imagine she'd be doing so now. Gen gazed back down at her salad and
stabbed the lettuce a few times with her fork. She wasn't hungry,
but god knew what else he'd throw at her if she didn't eat, so she forced
down a mouthful.
"How's Levi?" Sage asked, and Gen glanced at her
to see she still hadn't looked up.
"He's okay," Gen said at last,
trying to hide her surprise. She'd never heard Sage even breathe his
name before, let alone ask after him...
She's probably guilty...God
knows I am...
"He goes to a lot of counselling, but he's
doing okay."
Sage nodded absently, and Gen wasn't sure if she was
really listening or not. But she didn't say anything further.
They ate in silence for a few moments, then the front door opened.
"Ooh, good, lunch," Merri said brightly as she strolled into the
room and plopped down on the seat next to Gen, and took a bowl of salad.
"Did you know he was going to kidnap me?" Gen asked Merri, noting
that the other girl didn't seem the least bit surprised to see her there.
"I knew he wanted to get that book, and when Lev told me you left,
I figured you came here." Merri’s gaze drifted to Sage for a moment,
and Gen did detect surprise there—at least she had been truthful when she
said she hadn’t seen Sage lately.
"Hi Sage," Merri said.
Sage gave a weak, half smile and nodded her hello.
Meredith turned her eyes to Michael. "Did you get it?"
"Of course."
"The chick he bought it from was a Satanist
skank who was hitting on him," Gen informed her. Merri burst out
laughing and even Sage cracked a grin.
"She wasn't a Satanist," he
corrected her once again, leaning back on the counter and taking a bite
from his burger.
"Fine, but she was definitely a skank," Gen
countered.
"Oh, Gen, I got you something," Merri said, reaching
into her pocket suddenly and pulling out a folded piece of paper.
She tossed the scrap onto the table, and Gen snatched it up and found a
phone number in scrawly letters.
"What's this?"
Merri had
a mischievous glint to her eyes. "Peyton's number."
"You got
her number?"
"And she has yours. Of course, she also has
mine and Levi's, but she asked for yours first. She's going to call
us to plan a study date."
"Awesome." It seemed despite
Michael's attempts to ruin her life, the powers that be had cut her a
break after all.
Gen started as there was a sudden knock at the
door, and a quick glance to Sage and Merri told her they didn't know who
it would be either. Michael's expression hadn't changed, however,
and he left the kitchen to answer the door.
"Did he make a
friend?" Gen whispered, but Merri shrugged, seeming just as confused as
she was.
Gen strained to make out words when she heard Michael's
voice, but all she caught was another male voice answering his. A
few moments later Michael returned with another guy following. A bit
shorter than their host, a few years younger, and with gentle dark eyes
that travelled over each of the girls in turn, Gen was certain she'd never
seen him before, and despite the fact he didn't seem remotely threatening,
his presence sent a chill through her. At Michael's, she was in a
strange little world outside the real one...but with someone new present,
everything felt different.
"It's everything I could gather," the
guy said, and Gen realized his gaze had locked onto a large, legal-sized
folder in Michael's hands, which she didn't remember him having before he
went to the door.
As Michael opened the folder and rifled through
the papers within, the new guy returned his attention to Genevieve and the
others.
"You're them?" he asked.
"Uh.." Gen looked
to Merri for help, but she didn't seem to be any clearer on what to say.
"Yes," Michael answered for them without looking up.
"Cool. I'm Thad, by the way."
Gen nodded slowly,
unsure if maybe that name was supposed to mean something to her or
not. Merri took the initiative and introduced the three of them, and
had just finished when Michael suddenly slammed the folder shut and tossed
it on the table.
"There's no address," he said, anger lacing his
words.
Thad shrugged. "That's everything he could possibly
tell you, anyway. He just doesn't want to get in the middle of this,
Michael."
"I don't care what he wants--we need to see him."
"But that's everything he knows. He hasn't seen her in
years--it's not like he can magically get in touch with her."
"Um,
can someone maybe tell us what you're talking about?" Gen cut in, eyes
going from Michael to Thad, then back to Michael again.
"It's this
guy," Thad said. "Shaw. Apparently he used to know the other
one of you."
Silence his words as Gen shot a quick look to
Michael, then Sage and Merri, who seemed equally confused.
"One of
us?" Merri ventured when no one else would.
"You didn't tell
them?" Thad said to Michael, brow knitted as he raked his fingers back
through his dark hair. "Oh, great."
What the
hell?
© 2007 Skyla Dawn Cameron
Reader discretion advised.
At some point there will be sex, violence, coarse language, and mature themes (if there hasn't been already).
Not for readers under 18.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 2.5 License.
Love the serials and want to show some $$$ support? Buy a paperback copy from my storefront or click the donate button below!
|
|
