Broken Spell Read online

  “That’s wonderful!”

  His hands relax a little.

  “What are your SAT scores?”

  He answers in a low voice. “Good. I mean, my junior SATs were high enough that I’m not taking them again this year.”

  “That’s brilliant, Drake! Why do you hide it?”

  He checks the rearview mirror and lets a Lexus SUV pass us by. “I don’t hide it. I just don’t talk about it.”

  “But why?”

  “Skye, we don’t have money for college. I don’t want to build up everybody’s expectations. Especially mine.” He smiles. “And I don’t want people to see me as a nerd.”

  My boyfriend needs some tough love. “For a guy with a high SAT score, that’s just dumb.”

  He narrows his eyes. “What is?”

  “That you hide it. That you’re not even trying to get into college when it’s clear that it’s something you want.”

  Drake blinks before asking, “How can you know?”

  “Math and physics are hard. You wouldn’t take them if you didn’t have a desire to study further.” He doesn’t answer. “Can’t you apply for a scholarship? I mean, even an athletic scholarship? You swim; you could try that.”

  His silence is unnerving. I can’t take it. “So what do you say?”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  Satisfied, I turn my attention to the road. I say a silent prayer to the Goddess: I hope Boulder really knows enough about cars.

  ***

  The mall is as empty as it gets. It’s right after lunch, and Priscilla and I have the place almost to ourselves. One of the perks of having no school on a weekday.

  Priscilla has already managed to unsettle the Forever 21 saleswoman—or rather, salesgirl—who dresses in an even more provocative way than Pri. While the girl goes, fuming, to the back of the store, we look at the pieces.

  “This is nice,” she says while examining a striped top.

  “It’s a cute shirt.”

  “No, I mean this.” She points to me and then back at herself. “The two of us, girlying up. I’ve been seeing you much less since you started dating Drake.”

  I hadn’t realized that. Well, she doesn’t sound upset.

  “What do you think of this?” I ask, showing her the shirt I have my eyes on.

  She gives it a lightning-quick glance. “It’s not you.”

  “Really?”

  “A Pink Floyd muscle tee? Please. It’s not anyone.”

  I thought Drake might have liked seeing me in the shirt. I put it back on the rack and continue browsing. “What about you? Your boyfriend, I mean?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she answers without turning back.

  “Of course you do. Mike, isn’t it? Aren’t you dating him?”

  “I don’t have boyfriends, Skye.” She looks at me this time. “I have hookups. Big difference.” She approaches me, takes the denim shirt from my hands and throws it on the top of a rack. “Seriously, find some women’s clothes, would you?”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “You’re picking men’s clothes disguised as fashion.”

  “No,” I say. “I mean, between a boyfriend and a hookup.”

  She tilts her head to the side. “What do you and Drake do?”

  “We hang out. We go out for ice cream and coffee. He takes me to parks, the movies, on long drives. We have chats into the night. And yes, most of the time we’re making out and stuff.”

  Pri smirks.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You just had the most idiotic smile I’ve ever seen.”

  “Wow, thank you.”

  She picks up a black-and-white polka dot bustier and studies it. “You are so falling for him. What do you mean exactly by ‘make-out and stuff’?” Priscilla looks back at me.

  “You know. We snuggle.” My voice is low. My cheeks get warm.

  “You ‘snuggle’? Is this British slang or something?”

  The salesgirl returns, and I don’t want to say it aloud. I raise my eyebrows pointedly. “You know what I mean,” I whisper. I look at myself in the mirror. Yep, my face is red.

  Priscilla’s grin is back. “I’m confused. I don’t know if doing it makes you naughty or if using euphemisms for it makes you a goody two-shoes. But that’s great. I’m happy for you.”

  I can’t be offended by Priscilla. She’s proved herself my friend many times over. And she knows about my previous not-so-great experiences with Connor.

  “So what’s the difference?” I ask again, trying to deflect the attention.

  She shrugs. “Of all that you mentioned, the guy and I only…snuggle.”

  “Really?” I try not to sound judgmental.

  “Yeah. And you know what? I like it. It’s simple. It’s all I need.”

  She turns abruptly to the salesgirl and starts talking colors.

  And I’m left wondering how the two of us, so unlike each other, can be such good friends.

  Chapter 4: Drake

  When I arrive for breakfast, my dear little sister has already snatched the last Eggo from the freezer.

  “Good morning. Practiced your rituals today already?”

  “Shh, Drake. Don’t break the Veil.”

  “The Veil? You are really into these witch lessons Skye’s been giving you, huh?”

  “Shut up. You don’t know how hard it is to be the s-i-n-g-l-a-r-i-t-y.”

  After I unscramble her letters, I say, “Well, you didn’t get magical powers of spelling, that’s for sure. It’s ‘Singularity’, sis. Might as well know your title.”

  How is it fair that my little sister is this secret Witch Queen? Mona, a girl whose only interests used to be black eyeliners, purple lipstick, and riveted mini-skirts?

  She’s only fifteen. Well, almost fifteen.

  “What are we doing for your birthday? Dad asked me last night. I don’t know if you’re in the mood to celebrate.” I scratch my head. “I mean, after the earthquake and all the magic stuff.”

  She pours coffee into her milk, taking her time. Then she says, “You’re right. I’m not in the mood. But Dad expects it.”

  “I think so too. We owe it to Dad after the scare we gave him.”

  Mona was in the hospital after the earthquake. The earthquake that she created, by the way. Unwittingly, but still. This all happened while Dad was in Vegas, leaving us alone for the first time ever. He feels guilty as hell. And he doesn’t even know about Mona being kidnapped.

  Or about her magical powers.

  “What would he like?” Mona asks.

  “Why don’t we go to a fancy restaurant? Not too expensive, so you can bring all your friends.”

  She looks away. “All my friends? You mean, Pain.”

  I bite my lip. “Well, you have Skye now. And me.”

  She raises her eyes. “That would work.” Then she adds in a hurry, “Okay, gotta go. I’m meeting Pain on Capitol Hill. Then we have to study for tomorrow’s test.”

  “No rest for the wicked, huh?”

  She snorts and throws a half-eaten piece of Eggo at me. I dodge it, and it lands on the counter. I scoop it up and shove it in my mouth.

  “Disgusting,” she mumbles.

  ***

  Skye comes to visit me. We make out in my room, like we’ve been doing for the past days, the past hours—every chance we get. It never gets old.

  With my arms around Skye, I pull her even closer, and we roll on the bed, just kissing while time and worries melt away. I wish this moment would never end.

  But it does, and we stay lying down, side by side, looking into each other’s eyes.

  “We have to talk,” she whispers.

  A while ago, I’d tense up just hearing these dreaded words. But now I’m confident enough that I answer in a relaxed way. “About what?”

  “Your mother.”

  How about that for a cold shower? I squint. “What? Why?”

  Her hand reaches for my face, and she caresses my cheek wit
h her fingertips. “We need to know more about her to help Mona.”

  “Do you think my mother could be a witch too?” Questions like this have become normal in our recent conversations.

  “It’s a possibility. Do you mind talking about her?”

  Still lying down, I shrug. “It’s not that I mind talking about her; it’s just there’s not much to tell. She left us when I was little. That’s about it.” It’s not true. I do mind talking about her. But not with Skye.

  Her eyes never leave mine. “Do you have an address? A phone number? Pictures?”

  “No, nothing. I have only a few memories.” The warmth of Skye’s hands against my skin puts me at ease.

  “Bad memories?”

  “Good ones. From all that I remember, she was a good mother. Before, you know, abandoning us.” My voice cracks a little.

  Skye raises herself on one elbow and hugs me, resting her head on my shoulder. “We’ll talk about her later. Now I just want to stay here with you.”

  For many reasons, I happily agree.

  Chapter 5: Skye

  The restaurant is fancy, but not obnoxiously expensive. Mr. Hunter has chosen well. Except for one thing.

  “Are you sure, Skye? Just a salad?” Mr. Hunter asks.

  “I’m a vegetarian…”

  “Oh,” he says. “Not a great idea coming to a steakhouse, then. You should’ve told me, buddy.”

  Drake says, “It’d be easier to warn you if you didn’t want to make it a surprise.”

  Mr. Hunter drove us all here. He looks dapper and much younger in the blue suit with his hair groomed.

  “Mr. Hunter—”

  “It’s Ben, Skye. No need to make me feel older than I am.”

  “Nice suit, Ben.”

  His face lights up and he looks down to his chest, as if seeing the suit for the first time. “Thank you, Skye. It’s new. I got it for the convention.”

  Drake is wearing somewhat formal attire. Well, formal for him: a blue and white pinstriped dress shirt. Pain and Mona are dressed in their version of formal.

  Mona looks stunning in a black goth dress, with a laced halter strap and a draped skirt. Her long black gloves are lying on the table. The Allure makes her even more gorgeous.

  Pain’s dark green gown is beautiful, but she’s too tall for it. She looks uncomfortable. And she should’ve eased up on the makeup, especially the green eye shadow. Her hair is a miracle of styling, looking classy even with one side almost shaved.

  “I love seeing you all dressed up, Mona,” I say.

  “Thanks. These are our sophomore dance dresses. They’re so expensive, so it’s nice to use them another time. Also, we need to break in these damn heels.”

  “Do you have dates for the dance?” I ask.

  Drake groans.

  “We’re both going stag. Well, not really, since we’re going together.” Pain smiles at Mona, the first time I’ve seen Pain not tense. Few Knowings are as devoted as Pain.

  “Excuse me for a moment. Need to wash my hands,” Mr. Hunter says abruptly and leaves. He’s a bad actor. I know he’ll be talking to the staff about the cake he dropped off earlier in the day. Judging by Mona’s smirk, she knows what’s going on.

  We’re in a corner booth away from the other patrons, so I take the chance to talk about the Veil. “Are you drinking your Protection potions, Mona?”

  She’s getting the hang of it. Her eyes scan the surroundings. Good job. “I don’t miss a day.”

  Pain taps Mona’s hand affectionately and whispers, “I call her every morning to remind her, Skye. Not that she needs it.” Pain’s voice is slightly high and sweet. It doesn’t fit her tall figure or her harsh expression. At all.

  Drake asks, “Are you sure going to the dance is a good idea? With Jane out there?”

  “We’re taking precautions. We’ll share a limo with some girls, and Skye gave us a few potion vials to use in an emergency.”

  “I want to be there. I’ll be outside, making sure you’re safe,” I say.

  Pain and Mona look at each other. Pain nods.

  “Okay,” Mona says. “A chaperone of sorts.”

  Mr. Hunter is back. “What are you guys talking about?”

  “The dance, Dad,” Mona says. “What else?”

  ***

  Ten days later, Drake and I are in his car, parked outside Mona’s school gym. It’s the night of her dance, and the Volvo wagon stands out in the sea of luxury cars and limos.

  “Do you sense any witches?” he asks me.

  “No, nothing. We need to keep an eye out for Knowings, but Mona is safe tonight. She has the potions and the cell.”

  “And Pain.”

  “Her too.”

  Most students are already inside. The parking lot is quiet, except for a few parents and relatives waiting, like us.

  “You’re enjoying this bodyguard stuff, aren’t you?” I ask him.

  “As long as absolutely nothing happens to her.” He looks at me with a glint in his eye.

  “What?”

  Drake says, “Well, since we’re at the dance, we should probably make out.”

  “Should we?”

  “Definitely. It’s a tradition.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t want to mess with tradition. I’m a very traditional girl.”

  “I know you are,” he whispers before kissing me.

  A wave of warmth washes over me. Every time a few hours pass between our encounters, I forget how good it feels.

  Only this time, an annoying tingling accompanies it. I break off the kiss and say, “I sense someone.”

  His eyes are trained on me. “Where?”

  “At the dance,” I tell him while opening the car door.

  He follows me, not bothering to lock the car.

  We rush to the gym. I take out my cell and call Mona. It goes to voice mail. We reach the entrance.

  A smiling middle-aged woman wearing large glasses addresses us. “Invitations, please.”

  Drake points inside. “We’re chaperoning my sister. I need to get a message to her. She’s not answering her phone.”

  “Sure, sweetie. Go right in.”

  Inside, it’s hard to see. The dim lights and the crowd hide Mona. And whoever is stalking her.

  “We’re close. She should be sensing me now. To our left.” I tip my chin to the other side of the gym.

  Drake gives me his keys. “Go after her. You have the radar thing. I’ll find Mona.”

  I nod and try to traverse the sea of partygoers. They’re playing an old slow dance number, and all the couples are on the floor.

  The tingling sensation is diminishing a bit. The Sister is getting away.

  Disregarding any pretense of politeness, I bump and push through the crowd. A few groans and complaints are hurled my way, but for the most part the dancers are too engrossed in their moment to protest. I still cannot see who I’m after.

  An alarm sounds off in the direction I’m going. A back exit door was opened. The noise is muffled by the music. Now the siren and the energy signature point to the same place.

  I arrive just as a teacher is about to close the door.

  “Excuse me,” I say, pushing through the opened door.

  “Hey,” he yells.

  I’m back at the parking lot. I see a silhouette—a woman—getting into a silver Focus in a hurry. That’s her. In a split second, I calculate in my head the best course of action. She’ll be gone before I reach her car. Better to get the Volvo and use my True Sight to guide me.

  It takes too long to get to the car. The tingling is faint now. She’s left the lot. I turn on the engine and take off after her.

  Drake’s car takes forever to accelerate. A couple of blocks away from the school, the energy vanishes. I’ve lost her.

  I pull over, call Drake, and tell him the news.

  “I’m here with Mona and Pain. No strangers approached them, and they didn’t see anything unusual.”

  “Drake, I got a look at the Sister.
It wasn’t Jane.”

  “Damn! It means Jane told someone else!”

  “Yes,” I say. “The Night Sisters must know about Mona.”

  Chapter 6: Drake

  Worries swirl inside my head. I thought Skye would occupy my mind during all my waking moments (and a few sleeping moments too; I can’t lie), but other issues are creeping inside my noggin.

  College is still a distant dream. Fremont High won’t offer the advanced courses that I was taking at Greenwood. Planning is not my thing. Just thinking about the future is unsettling. Now that I finally have a present with Skye, am I supposed to worry about the future? It seems a waste of time.

  This is annoying, all right, but not life or death. My main concern is, of course, Mona’s well-being. She needs to be safe. For that, I need to know more about the witch stuff.

  Skye wakes me from my daydream. “Why are you so serious?”

  “Just thinking.” I kick a pebble out of the trail path. It goes tumbling and rolling until it falls into Lake Washington. The gray of the lake is darker than the gray of the clouds today.

  “About?”

  “Why exactly you decided not to tell the covens about Mona?”

  She adjusts her ski cap. “Oh, wow. Are we brooding today or what?”

  “If you don’t want to go there—”

  “No, it’s not that.” She lets go of my hand and grabs my forearm with gentleness. “It’s just hard to describe. But you deserve the full explanation.” She takes her time, but at last, she whispers, “Okay, please don’t hate me for what I’m about to tell you.”

  “Is it that serious?” I glance at her face. She looks helpless.

  She lets out a little groan. A cute groan. “No. I don’t know. Just hear me out. When I hid Mona, it was a snap decision. I mean, I made up my mind while we were dragging you and Brianna away from the school fire.”

  The silence comes back. “How did you decide?”

  “To understand it, you need to see it with my eyes. If we’re born Sisters, then that’s what we will be our whole lives. It’s not only part of who we are, it’s who we are, you see? We start to learn stuff at an early age, so we’re prepared when Daybreak comes. Then the real training begins. I’ve seen girls older than me, and all they do, all they think about, is the Craft.”