Wicked Sense Page 17

“Your precious witch,” she says, staring into my eyes.

  “What did you say?” My blood freezes for a moment.

  “I know you know, Drake. You told me that night. Ritual in the woods? Ring any bells? Love potions make you trusting. You told me everything I asked. I know she saved you with magic. And you’ve seen me perform my little ritual at the pool, didn’t you?”

  I remember how important the Veil is to Skye. “Are you high? What you’re saying makes no sense.”

  Jane squints and mumbles something, while her hand make a conjuring gesture. Before I realize, I flinch and take a step back.

  She cackles. “A-ha!” she says triumphant. “Afraid of magic, Drake? Don’t worry, you didn’t break the Veil. She did.”

  I’m defeated, but I won’t admit it. “What do you want, Jane?”

  “I’m just messing with you. Nobody can do magic this way. Freezing rays and the like. Didn’t she tell you?”

  “No, I mean coming here. What do you want?”

  She lowers her voice. “I want you. No potions this time.”

  “I know you’re lying,” I say.

  She comes closer. “It was fun, you know. I felt a spark between us.”

  Standing still, I say nothing. My face conveys my contempt for her.

  Jane shrugs. “Worth a shot,” she says, back to her normal, cold voice. “Okay, here’s the deal. Make her leave. Or I’ll make her leave. Got it?”

  “What?” I can’t control myself anymore. She sees my fury, and it’s her turn to step back. “You get close to Skye again, and I’m going…” A thought crosses my mind: is she expecting my reaction and recording my threat to blackmail me later? That’s exactly the type of mind game Jane would play. I don’t care. “Just stay away from us, or I’ll kill you. I mean it!”

  Jane’s stony face shows no emotion at first, but then her expression softens. “No, you won’t,” she murmurs. “But you know I would. And I may not even stop at her.”

  Then Jane says in a pleading voice, “Drake, please tell her to go away. This is much bigger than you can imagine. You’re ruining everything.” She sounds tired. “Don’t make me hurt her.” She turns away and climbs on her bike.

  Her strategy works. I can’t attack someone from behind. Attack? I’m kidding myself. I feel guilty about threatening somebody, especially a woman. Even if it’s Jane.

  The motorcycle roars and she goes away. I’m left at the street, wondering if I just imagined the surreal confrontation.

  ***

  It’s hard to be with Skye in this situation. I mean, every nanosecond that I don’t tell her the truth, I’m lying. I think.

  I spent the whole Sunday staring at my bedroom wall. The everlasting rain helped me stay inside and wrestle my demons.

  Jane is bluffing. No question about it. I know it. I’m sure of it. The only thing that keeps me on my toes is: what if she isn’t?

  She tried to kill Skye before. Why wouldn’t she try again? I always thought it was a desperate measure, that Jane saw an opportunity and decided to act on an impulse. She wasn’t thinking clearly. The death of a witch would actually bring attention to the school and hinder Jane’s search for the Singularity.

  But now it is clear she doesn’t care for the consequences. She wants revenge on Skye for—what? The British dude? Also, I’m not sure what Jane meant when she told me it was a big thing. Did she mean the Singularity?

  This is beyond weird.

  If I tell Skye, she’ll freak out. I know Jane is just trying to mess up with our heads. Maybe I don’t tell Skye, but I keep an eye out for Jane. At least for a while.

  This is the point where I bury my head in my pillow, as if trying to smother her threats into oblivion.

  Chapter 44: Skye

  Early Monday morning, Drake shows up.

  “Is this the place where they give free protection spells?” he says after I open the door.

  With just my index finger, I ask him to come in. He follows me without a word.

  We have coffee in the kitchen. “So, how was your weekend?” I ask at last.

  “Uneventful,” he says, looking at the cabinets. “What about yours?”

  “Eventful,” I say. Oh, Goddess, am I playing games now? I don’t want to cling to false pride. “I missed you,” I say, while resting my mug on the counter. I don’t care if I sound needy.

  He gives me the perfect reply. “I missed you too.” He lays his mug down and leans forward.

  Accepting his offer, I walk around the counter and stop in front of him. He kisses me eagerly. He acts his words, pulling me tight as if not wanting to let me go—ever.

  His mouth has the flavor of coffee and minty toothpaste. It tastes like a new morning.

  ***

  When he’s driving me to school, I say, “I was thinking about Jane.”

  He stiffens. Wow, he is upset with her. He’s so protective of me.

  I brush my hand against his cheek while he drives, but he doesn’t move. “I thought we should see what she’s up to.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He uses a monotone voice that doesn’t sound like him. I think talking about her brings the pool incident to his mind.

  “Maybe we could track her.”

  “Why? Why would we do that?” Is that fear in his voice? What’s going on? We were back to our dynamic in the kitchen and in my bedroom, during the ritual. Now he’s acting all weird.

  But I don’t want to bring this up so soon after we made up. I just continue as if I haven’t noticed anything. “What do we know about her? I have no idea where she lives, where she hangs out, what she does. Most importantly, I need to know how close to the Singularity she is.”

  He takes a deep breath and comments, “But Jane’s not close. If she thought she was, she wouldn’t even bother with you… I mean, us.” He glances briefly in my direction. “She’d just finish the job, whatever her job is. Right?” Drake speaks so fast he almost mangles the words.

  “I can’t afford to wait. Would you help me?”

  Drakes takes a long look at my face. “Did you drink a hyper potion this morning?”

  I slide down the seat, kick out my sneakers, and put my bare foot on the windshield. “I had a massive dose of Priscilla this weekend. That’s what happens when you’re not around,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.

  “I’ll stay closer to you from now on,” he says, but his tone is not flirty at all.

  We arrive at the lot. He parks, but before he can get out of the car, I grab his arm. “Did something happen?”

  Startled, he glances at me, but soon his eyes stray. “No! Why? We’re… going to be late.”

  “Drake…” A sudden sadness invades me. He’s lying.

  He puts his hand over mine. “Let’s think about it, okay? Jane is not close to the Singularity. We have time to figure this out, what do you say?”

  I nod, but I can’t hide my disappointment. He’s lying about something. I don’t even need a truth potion to see it.

  ***

  I’ve been frustrated since yesterday. Drake’s evasiveness stalled my plans. Maybe I can track Jane by myself. I can do it from a safe distance, so she doesn’t detect me. Even if she figures out I’m following her, what’s the worst that could happen? I miss my chance, that’s all. It’s not like she can get madder. I hope.

  Priscilla and I are getting our books from the lockers, but as soon as I open mine, I see something different. A photo is taped onto the inside of the locker’s door.

  I look around. My body is not tingling, so I know Jane’s not around. I rip the picture free.

  At first glance I think it’s an astronomy image: a grainy picture of an unidentified shape. A rectangular shape seems familiar; it looks like a bed. White linen. In the center of all whiteness, a person? To her right a dresser.

  I’ve seen this before. It’s… it’s… my room. At Aunt Gemma’s.

  I am the person sleeping on the bed.

  A huge gasp comes from behind me. I
turn and meet Drake’s bulging eyes staring at the picture.

  “We’ve got to talk,” he says.

  ***

  “How? How did this happen?” I ask him. We’re in his car, windows closed. The proximity is not what I wanted now, but there’s no other place to talk about it.

  “She came to my house to threaten you.” His voice is not apologetic.

  “You knew about this?” I yell at him.

  He moves his head side to side, not on a negative, just trying to shake the question off. “It was two days ago. I thought she was bluffing.”

  “And you didn’t tell me,” I say. I never knew you could hear venom. Especially spewed from my own mouth.

  “I was pretty sure she was bluffing just to get this reaction.” He points to the both of us. “And she’s got exactly what she wanted, it seems.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me? I trusted you, Drake. With my most important secret. A secret that’s not even my own. I broke the Veil for you.”

  He looks at me. “The truth is, I had most of it already figured out—”

  “So, that’s okay, right? Since you’re so smart, it’s okay that you know about the Veil? It doesn’t matter how it makes me feel? Like I betrayed my Sisters?”

  “No, no, that’s not what I meant,” he says in an alarmed voice. He tries to embrace me, but I wiggle away, refusing contact. He continues, “What I meant is that you shouldn’t feel guilty about the Veil, because I had already pretty much figured it out. Besides, if anyone broke the Veil, it was Jane.”

  I say nothing.

  He takes a deep breath. “As much as this scares you, it scares me even more. Way more. Let’s think about it, okay? First of all, don’t blame me for something she did. Second, I didn’t tell you because that’s exactly what Jane wanted. Third, it was my problem, not yours.”

  I interrupt him. “Of course it’s my problem too, Drake. It’s all because of me.”

  He looks at me, initially annoyed about yet another interruption, but then his expression softens. “I was trying to shield you from all that,” he says. “I thought I could just not play her game, and that it would go away.”

  “But now we have proof she isn’t bluffing,” I say, waving the picture. “She broke into my house. Actually, I think it was Brianna. Otherwise, I’d have woken with the tingling of a Sister so close to me. Let’s find out more about Jane, that creepy witch. Maybe she is threatening us because she is close to the Singularity and she’s afraid we’ll find her first.”

  Drake shakes his head, frustrated. “I mean, who knows how her mind works?”

  I say, “That’s exactly my point: we need to know more about her. I’m done googling her: nothing comes up. But I looked up the school’s directory, and her address is listed.”

  He squints. “Wait a minute. How?”

  “I saw they had the admin password taped onto a drawer at the office. It was easy,” I explain, ignoring his half-admiring, half-perplexed look. “I knew she had a valid address in the system; she needed one to enroll, right? The point is, we could track her. And, at the same time, make it clear to her that we’re not afraid of her tricks.”

  “Do you really want to follow her?”

  “Or Brianna. You could easily get close to Brianna.”

  He groans. “Skye, don’t ask me this.”

  I slap the dashboard. “Do you have a better idea? Because I don’t. And I’m tired of waiting for things to happen to me. I want to make things happen! I want to be the one in control of this mess.”

  Chapter 45: Drake

  Skye’s in James Bond mode, and she won’t let it go. She convinces me to go to Jane’s house and try to find out what I can. First, we have to figure out whether Jane’s address is really her own: Jane might have faked her school documents.

  Skye offers a sensible solution. “We’ll wait until the school bell rings and then beat her to the address. If she goes there, we know we got it right.”

  The uniqueness of my car is a huge problem. Parking it on the street as if I’m in some bad cop movie is ridiculous. My old Volvo calls attention anywhere. Also, I can’t figure out how the cops pull that off. It’s clear that a stranger sitting in a car for hours will make residents call 911. Even if the Volvo had tinted windows (and I thought my car couldn’t look worse than it does), that would be even more suspicious. And I’m not budgeted for a disguised service van with fake plates and the latest in surveillance equipment.

  Skye and I are still in a weird place. I don’t have the guts to kiss or even touch her since our discussion in the car. We mostly talk about our plan.

  I can see many flaws with her plan: chiefly, what if Jane makes a detour? But with Skye’s plan at least I wouldn’t have to wait hours and hours and be arrested for loitering or worse.

  So we follow our best bet. As soon as the bell rings, I join my almost-estranged girlfriend in my car, parked strategically at the lot’s exit, and drive to Jane’s presumed address.

  I stake out Jane’s house while Skye waits in the car. We don’t want to trigger any witch alarms. Skye is parked a block west, on Dayton Ave, working like a human radar. We’ll be in touch via cell.

  We know this might not even be Jane’s real address after all. But if it is, I’m willing to break in and find everything I can about her and about her progress in the search for the Singularity. Skye is right: we can’t be passive about it anymore.

  The house I’m watching is typical North Seattle, except more rundown: a long, narrow fixer-upper squeezed between similar one-story houses, with a raised front yard. Steps lead to the front door, and tall hedges grow unchecked on each side of the small stairs.

  The street has no people traffic, which makes me an oddity just by being there. I decide to walk as if I’m just passing by. I expect Jane to show up soon, or I’ll have to think of a better plan.

  The cloudy skies above me turn a darker shade of gray. I hope it doesn’t start raining.

  My cell rings.

  “She is close,” Skye warns me.

  Three minutes later I see Jane approaching on her bike. I hide behind the hedge of a house close to the street corner. Jane doesn’t notice me. She parks in front of the house we’re stalking and goes inside.

  I call Skye. “That’s it. We got it.”

  “Did you see anyone else? Brianna?”

  “No, and no other cars. I think she lives alone,” I say. She’s over eighteen; it makes sense if she lives by herself.

  “Could she afford rent?” Skye asks.

  “I guess. I mean, she’s got one expensive motorcycle, right? Wait!” I say.

  Jane leaves the house. She climbs on her bike and goes back the way she came.

  That was quick. I tell Skye about Jane’s departure. “I’ll take a look,” I say.

  “Be careful,” Skye says.

  “I’ll leave my phone on vibrate, just in case someone’s there. Let me know if you sense Jane coming back,” I add.

  I cross the street and approach the house. I try to act natural, but I don’t know how. Well, as long as I don’t tiptoe around the house, I won’t look suspicious. I walk up the stairs and ring the doorbell. I have a story planned, if anyone answers the door.

  Nobody does. I see no lights through gaps in the battered curtains. I go around the house, checking the windows, all the way to the kitchen door. I told Skye I would try to break in from the back of the house.

  I peek inside. The house is bare. I can see utensils in the kitchen. A half-eaten sandwich on a rectangular table in the nook.

  The other side of the house has no windows, so I come back to kitchen’s door and try the doorknob. It turns and clicks. I hesitate for a second, but then I remember the fourth-and-one pledge.

  Betting this old house has no alarm system, I open the door and walk inside, confident.

  Two steps in, I feel a dull pain in my right temple, and everything goes black.

  Chapter 46: Skye

  Jane’s energy fades as she rides her bik
e away.

  I was afraid that she would come in my direction, and get close enough for her to sense my energy. That’s why Drake parked away from the natural route from school to her address. We’re lucky she left the house heading west away from me.

  So far, so good.

  My fingers drum on the steering wheel. I’m glad Drake’s car is automatic. I keep glancing at the cell, waiting for his call. I imagine he got inside the house.

  I expect her to have a computer, or better, an external hard drive that we can steal. I don’t feel bad or guilty about it at all. She may have info on the Singularity, and that’s all that matters.

  An uneasy sensation bothers me, and I suddenly realize it’s my True Sight.

  The tingling is back. Jane is back.

  I immediately speed-dial Drake, almost fumbling the phone. It rings—or vibrates—five times, but he doesn’t pick it up.

  It means he can’t answer. He’s with someone. And it’s not Jane.

  The tingling increases. I have to beat Jane to the house. I turn the key in the ignition, and the Volvo’s engine rumbles. I hit the gas and drive up to Jane’s. No use being discreet now: I park in front of the hedges.

  Still no sign of Jane or her bike, but her signature is increasing. I get four blue plastic flasks from my purse before I leave the car. I don’t bother closing the Volvo’s door.

  I climb the stairs, ignore the front door, and head straight to the back, where Drake told me he would try to break in. I open the first of the flasks while rushing alongside the length of the house. I can’t see anything through the windows.

  Before I turn the corner, I stop and sneak a peek. The kitchen’s door is closed. I walk slowly and look through the window.

  A heavily tattooed, bare-chested guy has his back to me. Beyond him, I see another guy, about my age, but creepily skinny and pale. In front of him, Drake sits in a chair, his face all bloody.

  My heart beats like crazy. Goddess, this is going too far.

  The tingling sensation is overwhelming; Jane must have arrived.

  No time to think. I put two flasks in my jeans’ back pocket, open the other two, and keep one in each hand.