Henrik’s lips curled into a faint smile. “You are correct,” he said slowly. “I cannot manipulate you. I can only make you see what will happen when you refuse to obey your destiny.”
I frowned. “What are you talking about?”
Henrik used an iron poker to lift the cauldron from the fire before setting it down on the stone hearth.
“Come here, child.” Henrik beckoned toward the fire. I swallowed a lump in my throat and walked closer until I could feel the heat of the flames burning my face. Henrik gave me a stern look, then reached into his pockets and tossed a handful of herbs onto the flames. Purple clouds of smoke billowed through the room, stinging my eyes, and I coughed until I felt like I’d spit up my lungs.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw modern-day Jaffrey. There were cars and people walking with cell phones on the streets I recognized. I gasped as the scene shifted to the inside of a church. Andrea’s petite figure was standing at the pulpit, glaring angrily and screaming. I couldn’t make out the words – everything was hazy – but the congregation was going crazy for whatever she was saying. Everyone was screaming and cheering and fervently clapping their hands.
Andrea smiled wickedly. “Go forth,” she called loudly. “Go forth and do what you must!”
Everyone stormed out of the church. I gasped when I saw they were carrying flashlights and weapons – guns, knives, and even a few crossbows. The view shifted to the road outside of my parents’ home. Everyone was screaming and running down the road, waving their guns in the air.
“No!” I cried loudly. The scene shifted to my kitchen. Jamie and Brian were sitting at the table, their mouths moving. My ears were filled with the sounds of glass shattering, of guns being fired.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I covered my eyes, holding my hands tightly to my face. “No!” I cried out again. “I won’t watch this!”
Henrik clapped his hands. The smell of smoke stung my throat and eyes once more, but the sounds died down. When I could hear nothing but the roaring flames, I slowly pulled my hands away.
“What … what was that?” I asked in a choked whisper. “What’s going on?”
Henrik looked at me very seriously. “That is what will happen if you don’t pledge your loyalty to the coven.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said quickly. “No. There’s no way that’s gonna happen!” I squinted. “Are you crazy? This isn’t the seventeenth century anymore! Things like that don’t happen!”
Ligeia stepped out of the shadows, and I gasped.
“Why do you always have to do that?” I grumbled. “Would it kill you not to surprise me once in a while?”
Ligeia raised her eyebrows. “It isn’t intentional,” she said dryly. “Perhaps you should learn to pay more attention to your surroundings, Monica.” She shook her head sadly. “I am beginning to think that extra time you spent with us was wasted. You have not learned a single thing.”
“That’s not fair,” I shot back. “Everything is going fucking crazy at home. What I am supposed to do?”
Ligeia narrowed her eyes. “You must do as Henrik says,” she said calmly. “You must pledge your life to the coven. You must devote yourself to helping us rid the true evil of the world.”
I swallowed. “You know, you sound just like Andrea,” I muttered.
Ligeia’s nostrils flared in anger. “I resent that comment,” she said icily. “I do not understand the problem, Monica. What is your hesitation? From where does it come?”
“Does it matter?” I tangled my hands in my hair and yanked until my scalp ached.
“Yes,” Ligeia and Henrik spoke in unison.
“I just want things to go back to normal,” I said. “I don’t care what has to happen.”
“Henrik has shown you what will happen if you do not help us,” Ligeia said. “Monica, we are not trying to punish you. But you are strong, and if we survive, it will be because of you.”
“That’s a heavy thing to lay on me,” I grumbled. “Why me, huh? Why not anyone else?”
“I think you know the answer,” Henrik said gently. “You have always been known as something of a prodigy, have you not?”
“It’s not about that,” I insisted. I sighed and flopped down on a rock. “Look, I know how it sounds. I know I’m coming across as selfish. And I don’t mean to, really, but I can’t just give up my life for something I never even knew existed until now.”
Ligeia gave me a sad smile. “You are lucky to live in an age where you have the luxury of such options,” she said. “Had you been born in another other time, you would have no choice.”
I blinked. I knew she was right, but I didn’t want to admit it.
“Besides, people do the same thing all the time.” Henrik raised an eyebrow. “How many people say they will never marry, until they fall in love? Suddenly, it becomes the most important thing in their life – one of the only things they care about.”
“That’s different–”
“It’s not that different,” Henrik said. “Or how about those who feel a sudden calling? What about human urges, Monica? You dismiss those so easily.”
“I didn’t choose this,” I argued. “No one asked me whether or not I wanted to become a witch, okay?! You just fucking kidnapped me, and now here I am.”
“Do you realize that this is the first time you’ve found the coven on your own?” Ligeia asked quietly.
“Yeah, but–”
“No one but a true daughter of the coven could have done that,” Ligeia said. She and Henrik exchanged a glance. “And that proves your abilities.”
I swallowed. I felt helpless.
“You must pledge to join with us for all eternity,” Ligeia said. “If you do not, your immortality will be lost. You, and everyone you know and care for will be slaughtered like sheep.”
I sighed. Why did I suddenly feel as though I had no choice in the matter of my own destiny?
Chapter Seven
Elizabeth
After that night at the D’Amicos’ church, everything changed. I’d barely woken up the next morning when Mom came into my room and closed the door behind her. Her eyes were grave.
“Elizabeth, we need to talk.”
‘Shit,’ I thought. ‘Someone must’ve told her about that party.’
But if only it had been that innocent.
“What’s wrong?” I tried to keep my voice cheerful, but my heart was sinking with every passing nanosecond.
Mom sighed. “You’re a good kid, you know that?”
I narrowed my eyes. “That’s…that’s why you came to talk to me?”
Mom shook her head. “No,” she said softly. “Not exactly.” She sighed, running a hand through her long hair. “Elizabeth, I know this isn’t fair to you. You’re just a kid; you don’t really deserve any of this.”
“Mom, you’re gonna make me have a heart attack,” I said. “Just spit it out, okay?”
My mom looked almost relieved as she cleared her throat. “The Jaffrey police put out a bulletin. There’s a seven-thirty curfew for all people under eighteen.”
My stomach twisted into a knot. “What?” I wrinkled my nose and frowned. “That’s…crazy. That’s stupid. Did some kid get busted for something?”
My mom shifted on my bed. “I don’t know, sweetie,” she said. “It came this morning with the paper.” She handed me a canary-yellow printout. It looked like a joke, like the kind of thing a kid would’ve created. But the words chilled me to the bone.
“As of December twenty-second, all juvenile residents of Jaffrey must observe the local curfew. All persons under eighteen years must be at home, with their parents or guardians, before seven-thirty in the evening. This curfew is in effect seven days a week until further notice. Violators will be punished to the fullest extent of the law.”
I shuddered. “Mom, this is so creepy,” I said softly. “Why are they doing this?”
My mom shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Your father…well, I don’t know,” she added.
“What? Dad thinks what?”
Mom shrugged. “Your father thinks that maybe someone went missing,” she said. She dropped her gaze. “You know, honey, like what happened to Monica?”
I sighed. “Okay,” I said softly. “Thanks for letting me know.”
---
It was the last day of school before winter break. Everyone was buzzing about the curfew memo. I tried listen in whenever I could, but the other kids’ ideas were way more implausible than anything my mom or dad had suggested. One kid thought it was aliens. Another actually suggested an invasion of killer bees.
I was standing in the cafeteria, listening to bits of conversations around me, when Steven sat down next to me. I cried out in surprise and jumped. Steven grinned. I blushed.
“Sorry,” Steven said. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I nodded. “Look, do you know anything about this?”
Steven shrugged. “No,” he said. But there was something in his voice that made me wonder.
“Are you sure?” I narrowed my eyes. “I won’t tell anyone, I swear. This is all just really weird, Steven.”
Steven nodded. “Yeah,” he said, in the same distant, far-away voice. “Look, you busy tonight? You wanna go for a drive or something?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What about the curfew?”
Steven shrugged. “I’ll get you home by seven-thirty,” he said. He grinned, looking for a moment like the old, irresistible Steven. “I swear.”
I felt my resolve melting like a puddle of wax inside my chest. “Okay,” I said. My heart thudded. “That sounds good.”
Steven grinned. “Good,” he said. “I’ll pick you up after my family has dinner – say five-thirty or so?”
I nodded. “Okay,” I said. “Thanks.”
Steven cuffed me lightly on the shoulder before getting up and strolling over to his football buddies. I couldn’t stop thinking about Andrea and Monica and Steven and the curfew for the rest of the day. My thoughts were swimming around my head like sharks in a goldfish pond – too big and dangerous for the atmosphere.
When I got home, I ate a quick meal of soup and a grilled cheese. As I waited for Steven, I did my homework. By the time he pulled up in my driveway, I was so restless that I practically sprinted out to the car.
“So, where do you wanna go?”
I buckled myself in. “Anywhere,” I said. “I don’t care. Just as long as it’s not in Jaffrey.”
In the end, Steven drove out to the lake. I thought he would want to park and make out, but instead he kept one hand on the gear shift and stared straight out the window. We talked a little, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of nervousness that was creeping over me like the chill outside.
“This is all just really weird,” I said. Part of me was dying to ask him about the church thing from the other night and what the hell Andrea was playing at.
“Yeah,” Steven said. He sounded distant again, and I sighed. “It’s all strange.”
“What are you doing over break?” I shifted in the seat. “Going anywhere for Christmas?”
Steven cracked a smile. “No,” he said. “Not after last year when we got stuck in Maine at my grandmother’s place. My mom wants to stay home.” He swallowed.
“Me, too,” I said.
We fell into silence.
“Oh, shit,” Steven said quickly. “It’s already twenty past. We should get going.”
The car didn’t start at first, and by the time the engine rolled over, it was past seven-thirty. Steven and I drove through Jaffrey; it was a total ghost town.
“You can just park at home,” I said. “I’ll take the shortcut through the woods.”
“You’ll get there faster if I drop you off,” Steven said.
“Yeah, but your parents are home. I don’t think mine are,” I said. My stomach twisted. “I’ll walk. Don’t worry about me.”
“Elizabeth, it’s freezing outside!”
Anxiety swelled in my chest like a balloon, and I shook my head, suddenly wanting to be as far away from Steven as possible.
“Don’t worry about it,” I said quickly. “I’ll be fine. Just let me hop out now.”
Reluctantly, Steven reached across me and unlocked the passenger door. His sleeve brushed my chest, and for a moment, I thought he’d kiss me. Instead, he gave me a half-smile.
“See you after break,” Steven said. “Have a good holiday, Elizabeth.”
“You, too.”
We stared at each other, and again, I thought he was going to kiss me. Finally, I blushed and nodded, ducking out of Steven’s car and into the cold.
I regretted walking almost as soon as Steven pulled away. The arctic wind chapped my lips and face, and I shivered, tucking my hands into my pockets. It had started to snow, and I walked as quickly as I could, my boots slipping and sliding on the icy pavement.
When I heard a car pull up behind me, I grinned. ‘I knew he’d come back and get me,’ I thought as I turned around, waving to Steven. ‘He’s too much of a gentleman to just let me walk home in the cold.’
But it wasn’t Steven.
It was a Jaffrey deputy.
My heart sank as the siren flared cherry and blue-raspberry on top of the squad car. The driver’s side door flung open, and a male deputy stepped out.
“Elizabeth Hartsell?”
I nodded and squeaked a ‘yes.’
“You’re to come downtown, with me,” the deputy said in a deep voice. “You’re in violation of the Jaffrey curfew.”
“I was almost home,” I protested. “I live right on this block!”
“Now.” The deputy’s voice was stern and unwelcoming. “Don’t make me cuff you, Elizabeth.”
Shivering, I walked over to the car. The deputy opened the backseat for me and guided my head into the car. As the car drove silently through the snowy streets, I felt more ashamed and embarrassed than I ever had in my entire life. I couldn’t help but feel angry with Steven. I knew he hadn’t done this on purpose, but if only he’d insisted on driving me!
Then I felt a pang of guilt, remembering how quickly I’d wanted to get away from him.
By the time the squad car pulled up at Jaffrey Police Station, I was a nervous wreck.
“What’s going to happen?” I asked the cop nervously. “Are you going to call my parents?”
The cop didn’t reply. He parked the car and got out, leaving me in the backseat. I tried the door – obviously, it wouldn’t budge – and watched with a sinking feeling as the cop strolled inside the police department. By the time he came back outside to get me, I was shivering and my teeth were chattering with cold.
“Come on,” the cop said. He opened the backseat door. “Come with me.”
I’d barely stepped onto the ground when the cop took my wrists and gently forced them behind my back. I cried out when I realized what he was doing, but not before he placed plastic cuffs on my wrists and fastened them together.
“You really don’t need to do that,” I said quickly. “I’m not going to hurt anyone.”
I’d meant it almost as a joke but the cop didn’t laugh. He hustled me along the snowy walkway and into the puce-colored police station. The florescent lights overhead were harsh and bright, and I squinted in pain as the cop moved me down the hall and into an isolated room with a table and one chair.
“Wait here,” the cop said.
“Wait,” I said quickly. “Don’t go.”
The cop turned around and put his hands on his hips. “What?”
I licked my dry lips. “Can I please call my parents? And can I please have some water?”
The cop shrugged. Then he left, banging the door closed behind him.
It wasn’t until I’d been alone for half an hour that the panic began to set in. My hands had long since gone numb from the tight plastic cuffs, and I’d given up on trying to massage them back to life. I was freezing cold – the room apparently wasn’t heated – and I could see my breath hanging in front of me in clouds of white steam every time I exhaled. Obviously, I couldn’t look at my watch, but judging from the elapsed time, I figured it had to be after eight, or maybe even close to nine.
Awhile later, another cop came inside the room and looked at me. He was holding a clipboard and a pen, and a strong sense of relief washed over me. ‘He’s going to write me up and then let me go home, I realized. Thank god someone finally came to their senses around here!’
“You’re Elizabeth Hartsell, right?”
“Yes.” I licked my lips. By now, they were so dry that they’d cracked and begun to bleed.
“Age?”
“I’m fifteen,” I said quietly.
“Feel like telling me what you were doing out so late?”
“I was walking home,” I said. “I’d just been with a friend.”
“Who?”
My stomach churned. “Why do you need to know that, exactly?”
The cop glared at me. “I’m not here because I want to be,” he snapped. “I’m doing my fucking job. Now answer me. Who were you with?”
My heart began to pulse nervously inside my chest and I shivered.
“Steven D’Amico,” I said softly.
The cop scribbled something down on the pad. “Okay,” he said. “That’s all.”
“Can I call my parents?” I begged. “Please, just let me call home. And may I please use the bathroom?”
The cop left the room, slamming the door behind him like he hadn’t even heard me.
With a wail of frustration and pain, I sank down against the cinder-block wall and slid down until I was sitting on the cold floor. My hands and wrists were killing me, and my shoulders were starting to throb as well. Worse, there was a gnawing ache in my lower belly. I really had to pee, and there was nothing even resembling a toilet in the room. My stomach was twisted and cramped, and my throat was so dry it felt like I’d been drinking sawdust.
I had no way of telling the time, but the hours slowly began to pass. I could tell from the voices. After I’d been locked in the room for a few hours, it grew quiet and the lights dimmed. Then, the voices outside changed. I shivered bitterly. ‘I bet they changed staff,’ I thought. ‘It has to be the middle of the night by now.’
Eventually, I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was in so much pain that I could barely move. I could feel the plastic cuffs pinching a tendon in my wrists, and by now, I was so scared and hurt that I started to cry.
Crying wasn’t a good decision. Soon, tears and snot were dripping from my face, all down the front of my jacket. I’d pissed myself in my sleep, and I felt embarrassed and ashamed to be sitting there in my own waste, smelling like sweat and ammonia.
When the door opened again, I almost started sobbing. A deputy – different than the one who’d taken me in – walked over and gave me a disgusted look.
“You have someone here for you,” he said mechanically, roughly hauling me to my feet. I cried out in pain but he didn’t stop. When I heard scissors slicing the plastic cuffs from my wrist, I gasped with relief.
“Out there,” the deputy said.
Rubbing my hands, I ran into the hallway, expecting to see my parents. Instead, Monica was standing there. She looked at me with a worried expression, then turned back to the hefty man behind the desk.
“I’ll be taking Elizabeth now,” Monica said. “She’s coming with me.”
The cop had an odd, glazed look in his eyes. “Elizabeth…” He trailed off. “Who is that, exactly?”
I narrowed my eyes at Monica. Something very odd was going on.
“The girl that was picked up last night for violating curfew,” Monica said. “She’s coming with me, I’m taking her home.”
“You’re taking her home,” the cop repeated.
“Yeah,” Monica said. “Write it down.”
“Are you a parent or a guardian?” The cop’s voice was stilted, strained.
“No,” Monica said. “Just trust me.” She smiled and the cop seemed to melt. I frowned. This wasn’t like Monica at all. In the past, she’d made fun of girls who got what they wanted from flirting. Still, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with relief. At least someone cared enough about me to rescue me from spending another twelve hours in the police station.
After a few more questions, the cop turned to me and blinked. “You were here all night?”
I nodded, trying not to look angry. I held up my hands, pushing my sleeves away and showing the angry red marks around my wrists.
“I was cuffed and alone in that room down the hall,” I said unsteadily. “Only two people came to check on me, and I wasn’t offered water or a phone call.”
The cop frowned. “That does not sound good,” he said slowly, in a plodding sort of way.
Monica grabbed my arm. “Come on,” she said. “We gotta hurry. I’m taking you home.”
Outside, the sun was shining, and the weather felt warmer than it had in weeks.
“What the hell was that?” I demanded as soon as we were away from the police station. “How did you do that? They ignored me all night,” I said, showing Monica my wrists again. She cringed at the sight of the bruises.
“Don’t worry about it,” Monica said darkly. “Let’s just get you home and fed, okay?”
“No,” I said. “You’re telling me what the hell happened.” I crossed my arms. “Those cops acted like you were their boss or something! How did you do that?”
Monica rolled her eyes and kept walking. “Just lucky, I guess.”
“No,” I said, more forcefully this time. I grabbed Monica’s arm. “Monica, tell me: how did you get me out of there?”
Monica sighed. “If I tell you, you won’t believe me,” she said coolly. “Just forget about it, Elizabeth.”
“I can’t,” I said. Monica kept walking, and I groaned. “You’re my best friend,” I said quickly. “Come on, trust me. Just a little. Just tell me, okay?”
“Fine.” Monica turned to me and smirked. “I manipulated them.”
“Well, obviously!” I rolled my eyes. “But how? How did you do it?”
“With my powers.” Monica stared sincerely into my eyes. “I’m a witch, Elizabeth. And I used my magic to help free you.”
I blinked.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Monica said unsteadily. “I don’t wanna get into this with you, not now.”
A cold chill ran down my spine, and I shuddered.
“I know,” I said nervously. “But look, just tell me. One more time.”
“I’m a witch,” Monica said softly.
“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” I said quickly. “But if you really, truly are a witch…Monica, we really need your help.” I grabbed her hand in mine, ignoring the pain shooting up and down my wrist.
“What?” Monica narrowed her eyes. “Who’s ‘we?’”
“The town,” I said quickly. “Monica, the whole town is collectively losing its mind, and you’ve got to help me. We’ve got to do something before everyone goes completely mad.”
Monica’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t,” she said softly.
“What? Why not?” I glared at her. “Come on!”
“Because,” Monica said softly. “I’m not strong enough.”
Chapter Eight
Monica walked me home. We made no mention of the fact that I’d pissed myself, or that the cops had held me illegally for over twelve hours. In truth, it wasn’t so much because I was embarrassed, but because I didn’t want to believe something like that had actually happened. It was horrifying to think about. I’d spent my whole life in this sleepy little town, and it seemed impossible to believe that things were changing so quickly – and so much for the worse – right before my eyes.
I felt powerless. I felt helpless. And I felt terrified, even more so than I’d been when Monica had first disappeared and basically all of the adults refused to believe me when I said something sinister was going on.
At my front stoop, Monica hugged me.
“Promise me you’re not going away again,” I said. “Promise me. I couldn’t handle that, not after everything that’s happened.”
Monica gave me a weak smile. “I wish,” she said. She sighed heavily. “The truth is, Elizabeth, most of the time, I can’t control it.” Her brown eyes filled with tears, and she blinked them away, tilting her sharp chin to the cloudy sky. “The first few times I disappeared…well, it wasn’t because I went looking for them, you know?”
My heart sank. I nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I get it.”
“But I’ll try,” Monica said fiercely. “Besides,” she added, “you’d still be in jail if it wasn’t for me.” She shuddered, apparently even more disturbed by that thought than I was. “I can’t disappear only for you to skip curfew again.”
I shivered. “No,” I echoed, “you can’t.”
“What happened, anyway?”
I sighed. “I was with Steven. We drove out to the lake, and then his stupid car wouldn’t start, and by the time we got back, it was already past seven-thirty. I told him to let me out so I could walk. I figured his parents would care way more about the curfew than mine.”
Monica wrinkled her nose. “So, things are going okay between two of you?”
For a moment, I almost caved. I almost told her how irritated I’d felt with him recently, especially after what had happened the last time I’d been at his house. I almost told her about how he waited on Andrea hand and foot, like some kind of weird, obsessed servant.
But when I looked at my best friend, I realized how stressed she was. Her pale face was more gaunt than usual, and there were dark circles under her round, brown eyes. She was glancing at me with a glimmer of hope.
“Yeah,” I said finally. “Things are okay between us.”
Monica gave me a hug, and I trudged inside, more conscious of my body odor than ever before. I’d hoped to slink up quietly to my room, but Mom was standing in the kitchen with her hands on her hips. The angry look on her face sent chills down my spine.
“Elizabeth, do you mind telling me where the hell you’ve been?” Mom’s face was streaked with dried tears, and she looked awful.
I started to shake. “A cop picked me up last night,” I said unsteadily. “I was walking home after meeting Steven, and it was just after seven-thirty.”
My mom glared at me. “You expect me to believe that? Really, Elizabeth,” she said, throwing her arms in the air. “I’m starting to think that Monica is a bad influence on you!”
I narrowed my eyes. “What the heck does she have to do with anything?”
Mom rolled her eyes. “You know, Elizabeth. She’s so free spirited! She just runs off everywhere, and her parents don’t even care.” Before I could refute Mom’s claims, she wagged a finger at me. “And don’t think for a second that just because you’re turning sixteen soon you’re going to get away with the same behavior!”
“Mom, it really wasn’t like that,” I said quickly. “Call downtown. They have a record of keeping me.”
My mom sighed heavily. “You really got in deep, huh?”
I frowned. “I’m not lying. This cop – some deputy, I don’t remember his name – pulled me off the street and took me downtown.” I held out my arms and pulled my sleeves up, showing my raw, bruised wrists. “They put plastic cuffs on me and kept my arms behind my back. Then they put me in this room. I was in there, alone, with no food or water or anything, for, like, twelve hours!”
My mom frowned. She came forward, gingerly pressing her fingers against my wounded wrists. The anger on her face faded, and she stepped away, grabbing the kitchen phone and holding it tightly against her ear.
I waited in silence as Mom called the police department.
“Hello, I need to speak to whomever has your log book for the past few days,” Mom said. “This is very urgent.”
My stomach sank, and I slumped down into a kitchen chair. When Monica had first rescued me, I’d been starving. But now I felt nauseous again, sick with fear and worry. It was crazy. I knew that I wasn’t lying; I knew that I’d been at the police station all night and some of the morning. But I still expected them to lie to my mother. I still expected her to hang up and punish me, ground me for some transgression I didn’t even commit.
My mom was white in the face when she hung up the phone.
“Elizabeth, there has to be something else wrong here,” she said sternly. “You can tell me. They didn’t provide much information.”
I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I swear, I was just walking in the snow, and they picked me up.”
My mom’s shoulders sagged. Fresh tears glinted in her eyes, and she shook her head.
“I don’t know what’s going on,” Mom said slowly, “but try and stay out of trouble, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.” I swallowed and bobbed my head again, once more, for emphasis.
Aidan came downstairs, clutching his backpack. When he saw me, his eyes got wide.
“Holy crap you were gone all night!”
“Yeah,” I said miserably. “I was at the police station all night. They picked me up because I missed curfew.”
Aidan’s eyes got even wider. “Whoa,” he said. “Cool!”
“No,” I said sharply, pushing past him and running up the stairs. “Definitely not cool.”
---
I was gladder than anything that school was out for winter break. Aidan was at some kind of all-day sports clinic, and obviously, Mom and Dad had to work. I was grateful for the time alone. Besides, I was in no mood to go sit for eight hours and listen to teachers drone on about things that mattered significantly less than real life. I know it sounds dramatic – all teenagers think their personal shit is more important than learning about the French Revolution and laissez faire economics. But right now, I couldn’t think of a single thing more important than saving the town I’d grown up in from absolute madness.
After a long shower, I spent the day in bed, napping fitfully. I kept waking up hot and sweaty, twisted in my sheets. My wrists still throbbed, and I wondered if, at this point, the pain was purely imagined.
Thankfully, at least, I didn’t dream. When I woke up for the last time, it was after four. The house was still silent, and I yawned and stretched before reaching for my phone and texting Monica. Honestly, I was surprised to hear back from her. Despite our conversation this morning, part of me wondered if she was planning to take off again, maybe this time for good.
‘Not that I could blame her,’ I thought darkly as I pressed ‘send.’ ‘I don’t blame her for wanting to get away from here. The whole fucking town has gone insane.’
A loud knocking at the door made me jump. I pulled on my bathrobe and ran downstairs, half expecting to see Steven, or even Monica. When I opened the door and saw an official from the church as well as a cop, I almost screamed.
“Hello,” the cop said. He glanced down at his clipboard. “Are you Elizabeth Hartsell?”
I swallowed in fear. “Yeah,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest. “Why? What’s going on?”
The cop exchanged a glance with the church official. It wasn’t someone I’d met before, but he looked intimidating in long, white robes with a white collar at his throat.
“You’ve been reported,” the cop said. “By an…Aidan?”
My stomach plummeted to the ground. “Aidan?” I narrowed my eyes in disbelief. “That’s my brother,” I said quickly. “I can’t believe he would’ve done something like that.”
“You’ve been reported for having inappropriate relations,” the church official said. He leered at me, leaning in close. “And we need to speak with your parents.”
“They’re not home,” I said quickly. My mind was racing, and my palms were sweating. If they tried to take me back to jail, I had no idea what to do. Mom wouldn’t be home for hours, and if Aidan really had reported me, I couldn’t trust anyone in my own family.
“May we wait for them?”
“No,” I said quickly. I slammed the door in their faces. “Go away!” I yelled loudly.
I locked the door and pushed the deadbolt through the bar before running into the kitchen and making sure all of the windows were latched. Thankfully, every room in the house was secured. But now that fear had struck again, I couldn’t calm down. I was sweating and panicking, and my heart was blipping fast in my chest, as if I’d just run a long marathon.
I shuddered. I could still hear the cop and the church guy talking outside the door in low tones. When I pressed my ear to the door, I couldn’t hear anything above murmurs. ‘Go away,’ I begged silently. ‘Please, just leave me alone and forget all about me!’
After what felt like an eternity, I heard footsteps fading away. Sickened with relief, I slunk into the kitchen and sat at the table, staring dully at my phone. Angry, confused thoughts were swirling around in my head. Why had Aidan, my own brother, reported me to the cops? And for what? I hadn’t done anything wrong. If anything, they were the ones who owed me an explanation.
The sound of another knock at the door made me jump out of my skin, and for a moment, I wanted to run upstairs and throw myself into bed.
“Elizabeth, it’s me,” Monica called loudly. She knocked again, her tiny fist gently pounding on the door. “Come on, let me in!”
I raced up from the chair and sped into the foyer, unlocked the door, and pulled Monica inside. When she looked at me, her brown eyes went wide with alarm.
“What happened to you?” Monica asked quickly. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something!”
I shuddered. “Another cop came by with someone from the church,” I said quickly. “He said that Aidan reported me…I don’t know! Some shit about ‘inappropriate relations!’ Do you even know what that means?”
Monica wrinkled her nose. “It means sex,” she said bluntly. “I bet he got an incentive to do that.”
Now it was my turn to stare in disbelief. “What? What the hell does that even mean?”
Monica sighed. She walked into the living room and flopped down in my dad’s armchair. She was so light that even when she leaned against the back, the foot rest didn’t pop up.
“I heard something about the younger kids getting bribes if they ratted people out for bad behavior,” Monica said. She grimaced. “It’s like Nazi Germany or something.”
I shivered. “Yeah,” I said slowly. “This is unbelievable.”
Monica nodded. We fell into silence. For a few moments, the only thing I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears.
“I wish I could do something to help,” I said softly. “Like, maybe I could…” I bit my lip, feeling incredulous. In the span of just a few days, I’d gone from hardcore skeptic to someone who actually believed in witches.
Monica raised an eyebrow. “Don a cape and save the world?”
I snickered. “No,” I said. Unfortunately, she’d hit closer to the truth than I was really willing to acknowledge.
“Then what?” Monica turned to me.
“I don’t know,” I said, feeling helpless. I swallowed. “I know it sounds crazy, but…” I trailed off. “I believe you now. I believe all of that stuff about witches and power.” Tears filled my eyes. “I feel insane,” I added softly. “I feel like this is a crazy, stupid dream, and we’re never going to wake up.”
Monica sighed. “I know what you mean,” she said heavily. “If you’d told me about this months ago, I never would have believed you.”
I nodded.
“My parents, you know, they’re being controlled,” Monica said thinly. She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “This witch – well, he’s a warlock actually – is really powerful. He’s been the one controlling them, ever since before I disappeared for the first time.”
My eyes widened. “You’re kidding.”
Monica shook her head and gave me a bitter smile. “No,” she said. “I wish.”
“Have you…” I felt ludicrous even saying the words aloud, but I knew I had to ask. “Have you, you know, tried to counter that?”
Monica’s thin shoulders slumped, and she nodded miserably. “Yeah,” she said. “But he’s too strong. He’s much more powerful than I am.”
“How many of you are there?”
Monica bit her lip. “A few,” she said. She counted on her fingers. “Thirteen,” she said finally. “At least, now. Henrik and Ligeia told me that years ago, when people were less skeptical, they had many more members.”
I stared at her. I couldn’t believe she was talking so candidly about this. We were having a cool, collected conversation – almost like we were talking about the news, or the weather.
“What do you have to do to join?”
Monica eyed me. “Don’t, Elizabeth,” she said. “It’s not worth it.”
I frowned. “How can you say that? You’re doing something. You’re actually helping!
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Monica exclaimed. “I had no idea about any of this until a few months ago!”
“Please,” I begged. “Please, talk to them and let me join. Let me help you. I want to help.”
Monica sighed. “I don’t think that’s going to work.”
“Why not?”
“Just because.”
“Come on,” I demanded. “At least give me one reason!”
Monica shook her head. She shut her lips together in a tight, white line. “No,” she said softly. “I can’t.”
“Why not?” I demanded. “Ten minutes before you got here, some cop showed up and he wanted to take me away again! Are you going to let this happen? You can’t just waltz into the police station and save everyone in town!”
Monica looked hurt. “Of course, I’ll always help you,” she said quietly. “You’re my best friend.”
“So, let me help you,” I begged. “Please, Monica, I’ll do anything.”
Monica sighed and shook her head. “No,” she said softly.
“Please?” I stared at my best friend, pleading with my eyes. “Please,” I repeated.
“Stay out of this,” Monica hissed. She glared at me. “I told you, no!”
Chapter Nine
For a week or so, everything was quiet. The holidays came and went with none of their usual cheer. I wasn’t speaking to Aidan, and even though Mom tried to get me to forgive him on more than one occasion (“he’s your brother, honey! He didn’t know any better!”), I wasn’t going to automatically give him a pass.
Kids disappeared for a day, then reappeared with red marks on their wrists and a haunted look in their eyes. I tried talking to Monica a few more times about what it would take for me to join her coven, but she shut me out of the conversation each time. I didn’t understand why she was so angry; I felt almost hurt. When I’d first had the idea, I thought that I’d be helping her out.
After Christmas had passed, my parents took Aidan out of town for the day to see my grandparents down in Boston. Mom asked me if I wanted to come, and for a moment, I almost said yes. ‘Yes, I want to get out of Jaffrey. Yes, I want to get away from here.’ But I had the sinking feeling that as soon as I left, things would get even worse. I didn’t want to come home to watch my town burning.
It was odd. After everything that had happened in Jaffrey, I should’ve hated it here. I should’ve wanted to get away for the rest of my life, however long that may be. But in spite of all the creepy and crazy shit going on around town, I didn’t want to leave. I wanted to stick it out and survive.
I settled in for a long, lazy day of watching movies and eating popcorn on the couch, but my parents hadn’t even been gone for an hour when my phone buzzed.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it’s me,” Steven said. “You busy?”
“No.”
“You wanna come over?”
My stomach flip-flopped. “Are you home alone?”
I could practically hear the grin in Steven’s voice. “Yeah,” he said. “Mom and Dad took Andrea out for the day. She’s getting a new cast on her leg, and then they’re going to dinner to celebrate.”
‘Bully for her,’ I thought. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Steven said. “They just left. They’re not gonna be home for hours. You wanna come over and watch a movie?”
I thought about it. Steven had been distant lately. After the whole episode we’d had at his house with Andrea, I wondered if he’d totally lost interest in me. The thing was, I wasn’t actually sure if I wanted to go. I was comfy on the couch, and outside was a cold mess of ice and snow. But I wondered: if I said no, would Steven totally lose interest in me? Was this the kind of thing I was going to have to do if I wanted a boyfriend?
“Okay,” I said, swallowing. “I’ll be over in a little bit. I’m just going to shower and change.”
Upstairs, I took a quick shower, then pulled on a light sweater and jeans. After a second thought, I traded the sweater for a tight-fitting Henley shirt that showed more of my body. I felt ridiculous – it was freezing outside – but I kept it on anyway.
The walk to Steven’s was full of slush and ice, and I slipped multiple times, nearly falling. By the time I got there, I had my jacket unzipped, and I was carrying my hat – walking through the snow is hot work. Steven was standing on the porch, his hands wrapped around a steaming mug.
“I made hot toddies,” Steven said. He grinned. “You want?” He held the steaming mug toward me, and I sniffed cautiously, making a face.
“That smells terrible,” I said.
Steven leaned in close and sniffed my neck. “You smell good, though,” he said. He grinned at me, and I blushed. For a moment, things felt almost normal again. “Come on,” Steven added. “Let’s go in.”
It felt nice – and almost a little strange – to be alone in the D’Amicos house with Steven. Despite her lack of physical presence, Andrea lingered in every room. I shivered as Steven led me into the living room. He sat down in the middle of the couch, and after a moment, I sat next to him.
My heart skipped a beat as Steven wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close.
“I missed you,” Steven said. He nuzzled my neck, and a shiver ran down my spine. “I really like you, Elizabeth.”
I pushed all other thoughts out of my head as Steven lifted my chin with two fingers and brought my mouth to his. When our lips met, I tried to remember to breathe out my nose as Steven slipped his tongue into my mouth. I wrapped my arms around his neck, and Steven guided me down on the couch.
“Hey,” I whispered, “you have a bedroom?” I blushed hotly. “I feel kind of weird doing this in your living room.”
Steven nipped at my neck, and I cried out. “Yeah,” he murmured, his hot breath tickling my skin. “But my room doesn’t have a TV.”
I blushed. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re really interested in a movie right now,” I whispered huskily.
Steven snickered. “You’re right,” he said. He slipped an arm under my back and the other under my knees, lifting me up with surprising strength. I cried out, thinking that he was going to drop me, but instead, he carried me up the stairs and into a room decorated in gray and blue. It smelled musky – like Steven – and I inhaled deeply.
Steven dropped me gently on his twin-sized bed. Then he lay down next to me and wrapped an arm around my stomach, pulling me close.
“I really like you,” Steven repeated. His blond hair was tousled, and his brown eyes seemed dark with sincerity.
I bit my lip. “I like you, too,” I whispered.
Steven kissed me again, more slowly this time. When my lips parted and I felt his tongue touch against mine, I melted in his arms. As Steven’s hands slipped under my shirt and pulled it over my head, I shivered and snuggled close to him. My body was desperate for Steven, but my mind was still playing a tug of war. I should do this, I thought, slipping my hands under Steven’s shirt and running them against his hot, smooth back. ‘Then I bet we’d finally be a couple. And I bet Andrea wouldn’t do this – she’s too much of a prude.’
For a moment, thinking of Andrea killed the warm, fuzzy feeling in my lower belly. But then Steven crawled between my legs and started kissing my neck, moving his mouth down my body until his lips were brushing my stiff nipples through the lace cups of my bra.
I moaned softly. Steven looked up at me with desire gleaming in his eyes.
“You want to?”
After a second, I nodded. “Yeah,” I said softly. “I want to.”
---
Afterward, we lay narrowly in Steven’s bed, sweating and panting. I felt wet and sticky between the legs, and I grimaced, reaching down to make sure I wasn’t bleeding. But my fingers came away clear, and after a second’s hesitation, I wiped them on the blue sheets of Steven’s bed.
“I hope you still like me,” Steven joked.
Just as I was about to reply, I heard the sound of a car engine pulling close.
“Shit!” Steven leapt out of bed, reaching for his boxers and jeans. “What the fuck? My parents are coming home!”
Alarm bells sounded in my brain, and I jumped off the still-damp sheets, pulling my jeans and fumbling with the snap of my bra. When I was fully dressed, I ran into the bathroom and locked the door. I was still washing my face and fixing my hair when I heard the front door open and close.
“Steven? We’re home!” Mrs. D’Amico called. “Andrea got sick at the doctor’s, so we decided to come home early and order a pizza!”
I waited until after Steven’s footsteps had thundered down the stairs before I emerged from the bathroom. My face was still flushed, and my hair was damp, but I’d added water to make it look like I’d just been sweating or something.
Mrs. D’Amico frowned when she saw me. “Steven, the upstairs bathroom isn’t for guests,” she said. “You know that.”
But she was staring at me when she said it.
“Uh, yeah, sorry Mom,” Steven.
Mrs. D’Amico gave me a tight smile. “Elizabeth, how are you?” She cooed insincerely. “It’s been ages since we last saw you. I was starting to think something had happened between you and my son.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I’m fine,” I said. “I was actually just leaving.”
Andrea smiled up at me. Her cast had been changed, and the white strips of material gleamed in the dim light of the foyer.
“Steven, I missed you!” Andrea chirped. “Can you help me into the living room?”
“Sure.”
Steven walked over to Andrea and scooped her up tenderly, just like he’d done with me not one hour ago. My heart sank as I watched him carry her gingerly into the living room like she was made of porcelain.
“Bye, Elizabeth,” Steven called over his shoulder. “See you back in school.”
Tears sprang to my eyes, and I pushed past Mrs. D’Amico, storming out the front door and stomping down the stairs. The icy air hit me like a slap in the face, but I didn’t stop. Instead, I started running as fast as I could toward Monica’s house.
Images of Steven and Andrea kept flashing through my mind, chilling me to the bone. I didn’t know what to do. In all of those stupid teen magazines I read, there weren’t any problems like the ones I was facing with Steven. Girls wrote in with things like, “My boyfriend doesn’t like it when I talk to other guys.” Or, “I like this guy, but he has really bad breath. What do I do?”
I shivered and wrinkled my nose, imagining the letter I’d write: “I really like this guy, but his sister likes him, too, and I think he likes his sister more than me!”
It was enough to make me sick. I ran and ran, dodging piles of wet slush and snow. Soon, my lungs were aching and my sides burned, but I kept going until the Boers sprawling old farmhouse came into view. As I ran up the steps and pounded on the door, I prayed for Monica to be home.
Jamie answered the door. She smiled much more warmly than Mrs. D’Amico had. “Hello, Elizabeth,” Jamie said. “Monica’s upstairs. You want me to get her?”
I sighed with relief. “No, I’m okay,” I said. “I’ll just go up myself if that’s all right.”
Jamie nodded. “Sure,” she said.
I took the stairs two at a time and pushed open Monica’s door, quickly shutting it behind me. She was sitting in bed, her face focused on her laptop.
“Hey,” I said quickly. “Sorry to burst in.” I sighed and flopped down on her bed, covering my hands with my face.
Monica didn’t look up. “It’s fine,” she said. “I’m just doing this stupid essay for school.” She rolled her eyes. “Mrs. Green actually wants to take me out of her AP class because I missed so much time,” she grumbled. “I wrote this essay so the principal would be on my side.”
I nodded. “Oh,” I said.
Finally, Monica met my gaze. “What’s up?”
I sighed. “I…I, um, just came from Steven’s.”
Monica raised her eyebrows and snickered. “You look exhausted,” she said. “What happened?”
“We had sex,” I said flatly.
Monica’s eyes widened a fraction of an inch. “No kidding,” she said.
I nodded. “Yeah.”
“Well, you don’t seem thrilled about that,” Monica said slowly. “Did something happen? Did it hurt?”
I shrugged and made a face. “Kind of,” I said. “I mean, at first.”
“Is that what’s bothering you?” Monica narrowed her eyes. “Why did you come over here? Why didn’t you stay there, and…I don’t know, cuddle?”
“His parents came home.” I grimaced. “Thankfully, it was right after, but I was still in the bathroom, and his mom had the nerve to bitch about how guests shouldn’t be upstairs.”
Monica rolled her eyes. “That sounds just like her,” she said. “Condescending bitch.”
“There’s something really wrong with Steven and Andrea,” I said. “As soon as they got home, Steven scooped her up and carried her into the living room – just like he had carried me upstairs. It was really creepy, Monica. You should see the way he looks at her. It’s like no other woman exists when Andrea is around.”
Monica’s eyes took on a strange, glazed look. “They are bound together,” she said slowly.
I rolled my eyes. “Obviously,” I replied. “They’re brother and sister. It’s so fucking gross,” I added. “Like, I don’t know what she’s even trying to do. Is she jealous of me?”
Monica didn’t reply. Her brown eyes turned dull and vacant.
“Hello?” I leaned in close, staring at her in exasperation. “Monica, what happened? Are you still here?”
“They are bound for centuries,” Monica said. Her voice was low and gravelly, deep enough to make me shiver. “They are bound,” she repeated.
“Yeah, you said that.” I reached over and grabbed Monica by the shoulders, lightly shaking her.
Monica didn’t say anything. She began to hum in a low, tuneless drone that filled my ears like the buzzing of bees.
“You’re being creepy,” I told her. “Quit it, okay?” I groaned. “Look, I’m sorry. I know it’s weird. But I just wanna know what’s going on with Steven and his stupid, creepy sister!”
Monica’s humming grew louder. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, but I couldn’t deny that I was starting to feel frustrated, too.
“Come on, snap out of it,” I said, snapping my fingers in front of Monica’s face. “This isn’t funny!”
Monica started swaying from side to side, humming loudly and rolling her head.
I climbed off the bed and groaned. “Whatever,” I said. “You can be weird on your own time. Bye.”
I expected Monica to snap out of it, to call after me. But as I walked out of her bedroom and ran down the stairs, she didn’t follow. The house was soon filled with the dull sound of her humming.
Jamie glanced up as I was leaving. “Going so soon? Brian and I thought you might want to stay for dinner.”
“No, thanks,” I said, trying to be polite. “I can’t. I’ve got to go home.”
It was then that I noticed the same creepy, blank look in Jamie’s eyes.
“Very well,” she said slowly – almost mechanically. “See you soon, Elizabeth.”
Angry and scared, I turned and ran all the way home.
Chapter Ten
Monica
“I don’t even know why I bother,” I mumbled, sitting up and rubbing sleep from my eyes. I was cradled in a wooden cot in the middle of a hut. Unlike the world around us, the sacred land belonging to the coven always stayed fertile and crisp.
Henrik sniffed. “You certainly don’t have to be rude,” he said. “But I can sense there is a problem. What now, Monica?”
I sighed. ‘Elizabeth,’ I thought. But I didn’t feel like talking about her, not now. “It’s nothing,” I said. “I mean, I’ll tell you later.”
Henrik nodded. He didn’t exactly look satisfied with my explanation. “Ligeia and I have something important that we wish to discuss with you,” he said. “Come, child. This way.”
“What now, I’m not doing enough?” I rolled my eyes.
Henrik shook his head. “No,” he said quietly. “Nothing like that, I am sorry to say it.”
I glared at him. “Can you just tell me now?” I shifted anxiously. “I really can’t be here too long, Henrik. My best friend needs me. She’s gotten into a lot of trouble lately.”
“Aye,” Henrik grunted. “And she’ll be in more before this is all over,” he said slowly. “Come, child. Ligeia waits.”
Henrik led me through the leafy, verdant forest and into Ligeia’s stone hut. There was a young girl kneeling at the hearth, and Ligeia was instructing her in runes.
“Ligeia, I have brought the young one,” Henrik said. “Please, send for libations.”
Ligeia nodded stoically to the girl kneeling by the hearth. The girl flushed and got to her feet, wiping her ashy hands on the muslin fabric of her shirt before curtseying to Ligeia and Henrik and running out of the hut. Ligeia clapped her hands. Seconds later, two young women came in, wearing veils over their heads. They were each carrying trays of something that smelled delicious – roasted meat, and something sweet and floral, like honey.
Ligeia passed me an earthenware cup. I sniffed cautiously.
“What is this?” I asked warily. “I don’t want any more of those drugs.”
Ligeia shook her head. “No,” she said. “This is just mead, freshly harvested with lavender.”
I sipped. It was thick and sweet on my tongue, and I closed my eyes, savoring the unusual taste. Ligeia and Henrik each took a cup, and Ligeia settled down on a stone chair, looking as comfortable as if she were on a silk chaise.
“Monica, there is something I have deliberately kept from you all of this time,” Ligeia said softly. “And I hope that when you discover the truth, you will be able to forgive me.”
I eyed her. “What are you talking about?” I asked. “What’s going on?”
Ligeia sighed. “It is about my sister, Prudence Arrowsmith.”
The mead churned in my stomach, and I reached for a piece of dark, rough bread, kneading and tearing it apart with my fingers. A cold wave of nausea passed over me, and I shivered.
“Yes,” Ligeia said quietly. “I regret that it is not good news.”
“What is it?”
Ligeia looked at Henrik. He gave her a long, hard stare before nodding the briefest of nods.
“I have been untruthful about Prudence’s true abilities,” Ligeia said in a low voice. “I have told you that she is a powerful religious fanatic.”
“She is,” I said. “Trust me – that hasn’t changed. Andrea’s a freak.”
“That is not all,” Ligeia said quickly. “At first, that was all I believed because I had no knowledge of her kind.”
A shiver crawled down my spine, and I swallowed the knot that was starting to form in my throat. “What do you mean, her kind?”
“She is a witch,” Ligeia said. “An ancient, evil, powerful witch.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said slowly. “Why would she be so against us then? Does she hate what she is?”
Ligeia shook her head, a grave look on her wizened face. “No,” she said. “She is not like us. She does not draw her power from the Earth, from the world, but rather from within.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“She seeks to destroy the good magical folk among us,” Ligeia said. “Each lifetime, Prudence has been born with varying levels of power. Despite the fact that we have been at odds for centuries, she has never before been this powerful.”
“She’s been reincarnating all this time?”
Ligeia nodded. “Always with the same foul intent,” she said in disgust. Her eyes flared with anger and centuries of resentment.
I felt my heart sink.
“This is the most powerful she has ever been,” Henrik said. He cleared his throat and coughed. “She already has most of the town of Jaffrey – your town – under her control.” He shook his head sadly. “Ligeia and I did not believe it to be possible, but we were wrong, most unfortunately,” he said.
“What does this mean?” I sniffed. Fear was dripping into my chest, making me feel paralyzed and nauseous.
“It means that we have a difficult challenge ahead,” Ligeia said softly. “It means that things will be more intense than we had originally thought.”
I sighed. “We might as well give up,” I said. I slumped against the crude wooden table. “I don’t know what to do. The whole town has already lost its god damn mind. Elizabeth got taken by the cops for over twelve hours, and no one did anything. She’s a minor! She’s only fifteen!”
Ligeia nodded gravely. “Yes,” she said slowly. “And things will become worse before they become better, I assure you.”
“Prudence seeks power from the good magical people,” Henrik said. He took a long swig of mead and put his cup down on the hearth. “She seeks to destroy us, absorb our power, and then control as much as she can, which unfortunately, is a great deal.”
“How are we supposed to stop her?” I threw my hands up in the air. “She’s steamrolling over everyone!”
“She must be taken down individually,” Henrik said in a low voice. He scooted closer and reached for a hunk of goat cheese from the table. As I watched, he broke it apart in his hands. “She herself must be destroyed in order to break the hold on your village.”
“So, I have to kill her,” I said blankly. Somehow, saying the words out loud didn’t bother me nearly as much as I thought. I’d never imagined how anyone could willingly commit a murder.
But suddenly, I understood.
“Are you making me feel this way?” I turned to Henrik. “Are you controlling me?”
“No, child,” Henrik said. “Your thoughts are your own. And you are correct,” he added, rubbing his chin with one wrinkled hand. “She must be killed and ripped apart. Her heart must be burned.”
I shuddered. “That’s intense,” I said quietly.
“It is what must be done,” Ligeia said. “She will burn your entire home if you don’t stop her.”
I blinked. “You two are more powerful than I am,” I said slowly. “Why can’t you kill her on your own?”
“Because we are not of physical power,” Henrik said.
“You’ve been controlling my parents’ minds for months,” I snapped. “And by the way, how the hell is that any different from Andrea controlling everyone in Jaffrey?”
“Henrik controls your parents in order to help your powers flourish,” Ligeia said. “You mustn’t be angry with him. Prudence is different. She only seeks to control for sheer love of power itself. That is the most dangerous love of all, Monica. Surely, you realize that.”
I sighed. I knew she was right.
“Fine,” I snapped. “So why can’t you…I don’t know, possess someone? Have that person kill her?”
“That would hardly be fair,” Ligeia said. She raised her eyebrow. “Imagine waking up from a long sleep only to find blood on your hands. We could not do that to an innocent. That is more like something Prudence would do.”
“But it’s different if I kill her?” I narrowed my eyes. “Well, too bad. I don’t want to.”
“You must,” Henrik said quietly. “We will have no chance of survival if the spirit of Prudence Arrowsmith is allowed to reincarnate once more. We have already allowed her too much power. She should have been stopped eons ago.”
“Lucky me,” I mumbled.
“Yes,” Ligeia said. “You are very fortunate, Monica. You will be heralded as one of the most powerful witches of all time if you manage to stop Prudence. Everyone who practices magic will know your name.”
“I only wanted to get famous for writing,” I mumbled.
“Life has chosen a more powerful fate for you,” Ligeia said. “Henrik, please. Leave us for a moment.”
Henrik nodded gruffly. He got up and bowed slowly to Ligeia, then turned to me and dipped his head. I stared. It was the first time he’d shown me anything even resembling respect. After he was gone, Ligeia beckoned for me to come close.
“I am an old woman,” Ligeia said. “Defeating Prudence has been a lifelong goal.” She reached out for my hands and grabbed them with surprising strength. Her hands felt warm and smooth, another surprise given her mass of wrinkles.
“I know,” I said. “I’ll try, I promise.” I felt my walls start to come down, and before long, I was crying, resting my head on Ligeia’s shoulder. “I’m so scared,” I wailed. “I’m so worried about my friends, Ligeia.”
“I know, child,” Ligeia said. She stroked my hair and rocked me against her chest like I really was a child. “All this evil shall pass, and life will return to what you are used to.”
I felt sick as I nodded. “Okay,” I mumbled softly. “I’ll do it.”
Ligeia looked at me. Her blue eyes searched mine until I felt stripped naked of all pretension.
“You must swear it,” she said. “Swear to me, to Henrik, to the coven that you will complete this task.”
The words spilled from my mouth before I could really think about them.
“I swear it,” I said.
Ligeia reached behind her. When I looked down at her hands again, I saw she was holding an athame. Ligeia handed the knife to me. She began chanting in a low voice under her breath. I watched as she reached for a piece of chalk and made a few strange markings on the hearth – runes, but I didn’t recognize any of them. Then Ligeia plucked the athame from my grasp. She took my hand, pulling it close and gripping my wrist. I couldn’t breathe as she turned my palm up to face the fire, then made a sharp slash across the skin with the athame. Dark red blood dripped from my palm onto the hearth, and I gasped as the runes lit up to a shimmering, soothing blue light.
“This child will banish you, Prudence,” Ligeia hissed into the fire. “You will be dust and dirt and earth; your spirit will be crushed and trapped.”
I tried to pull my bleeding hand away, but Ligeia kept a firm grip. She sliced her own palm with the athame, then dripped blood onto the runes. They hissed.
“Prudence, you will not defeat me,” Ligeia said. She gazed into the fire. The firelight flickered on her face, making her look almost young. “You have come to the end of your life.”
Following Ligeia’s gaze, I gasped as I looked into the fire and saw Andrea’s face, smirking at me.
“Your end is near, Prudence,” Ligeia growled. Grabbing my hand, she squeezed the puckered flesh on my palm and gathered some of my blood in her palm. I gasped in pain as Ligeia flung the blood into the rising flames, making them hiss and steam.
Andrea’s smirk faded and was soon replaced by a tortured moan. She screamed and writhed, wailing and twisting in the flames. I couldn’t take my eyes away as Ligeia did the same with her own hand, throwing droplets of blood into the flaming hearth. Andrea wailed and moaned, screeching so loudly that I had to cover my ears. Then she faded slowly into the fire, until I couldn’t see anything other than flames licking high – up, up, up, into the chimney.
Ligeia looked at me serenely.
“It is done,” Ligeia said. She tossed her head, placing the athame behind her once more. She handed me a clean strip of cotton, and I wrapped my palm, gritting my teeth. Blood soaked through the fabric almost at once, but I kept it pressed firmly to the wound.
Ligeia clapped her hands once more. A few seconds later, Henrik walked back into the hut.
“Come, child,” Henrik said. “We must get you home.”
I nodded. Just as I was almost out of Ligeia’s hut, she called my name, and I turned around.
“Yes?”
“Thank you, child,” Ligeia said. She dipped her head in a small bow. “For agreeing to help us. We will not survive without your help.”
I nodded. “I know,” I said.
“I know it is not to your taste,” Ligeia said. “But it is necessary.”
Henrik and I walked through the woods in silence.
“I’m scared,” I confessed. “What happens after I kill her?”
“Hopefully, the spell will be broken on everyone you know,” Henrik said.
I frowned. “Hopefully?”
“Sometimes, in the case of a very, very powerful witch, spells can remain for days, even years,” Henrik said. “Obviously, we will do everything we can to counter the possibility of this happening. But I can make no promises to you, Monica. We must handle each thing as it comes.”
I nodded stiffly.
“Earlier, you were going to ask me something,” Henrik prodded gently. “What is it, child? What do you wish to know?”
I shook my head. “I don’t really feel like talking about it,” I said. I looked down at my feet and kicked a rock, listening to the sound of it skimming across the leaves. I could tell that we were nearly out of the sacred land of the coven – the air was growing colder by the second, and the leaves were turning brown and dead.
“You may tell me,” Henrik said kindly.
I sighed. I closed my eyes, thinking about the intense look in Elizabeth’s eyes. Her confusion over Steven and Andrea. I shivered, thinking of how she’d react when she learned the truth about Andrea.
I bit my lip. “My friend, Elizabeth,” I said slowly. “She wants to join the coven.”
Henrik peered down at me. “She does, does she?”
I nodded. “Can she?”
Chapter Eleven
Elizabeth
When school started again, I didn’t even bother trying to talk to Steven. A couple of times, I could tell he was hurt. He’d come up to me at my locker and tried asking me if I wanted to get together. But the curfew was still in effect, and every time I thought of my night spent at the police station, my wrists chafed with pain.
More than anything, I wished Andrea would just go away. I wanted to confide in Steven; I wanted to be close to him. But I couldn’t risk telling him anything. How did I know he wouldn’t spill to Andrea, just like he’d done the first time I’d talked to him about Monica?
It didn’t help that being home made me anxious. Mom was mad at me because I still hadn’t forgiven Aidan, and Dad was distant, wrapped up in some work project that kept him out of the house for long hours. Most of the time when I got home from school, I’d stay in bed until dinner and then stay up late doing my homework. It made me feel rebellious to stand at my window and stare out at the dark streets.
One night in January, I was sitting at my desk, listening to the sound of snow and hail blowing outside. Jaffrey was in the middle of a blizzard – supposedly one of the worst storms in years – and we hadn’t had school in three days. I was going stir-crazy.
Mom knocked on my door. “Hey, sweetie, can I come in?”
I groaned, arming myself for yet another conversation about how I ‘had to’ forgive Aidan.
“Yeah,” I called.
Mom pushed open my door and came in, settling down on my unmade bed. “How are you, sweetie?”
“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just kind of bored with all the snow. I’m caught up on schoolwork,” I added quickly, before Mom could ask.
Mom nodded. “How is Steven?” She raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen him around in a while.”
“Oh, yeah, well, you know…” I trailed off, biting my lip. “The curfew and all. Makes it pretty hard to go outside.”
Mom nodded. “Yeah,” she said. “That must be rough on you.”
I shrugged.
“Honey, did something happen between the two of you?”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Again, I couldn’t imagine admitting anything even close to the truth. This was like one of those dumb, Lifetime movies, minus the D-list actors.
“I don’t know,” I said after a long pause. “His family is kind of strict, you know. They don’t really want him dating.”
Mom laughed. “They’re going to have a hard time with that when he’s at college, I bet,” she said. “Sorry,” she added. “I don’t mean to imply he’s going to forget you.”
‘I almost wish he would,’ I thought. But all I said was, “Yeah.”
My phone buzzed on my desk.
“Steven?” Mom glanced over, trying to see.
“Uh, I don’t know,” I said. “Do you mind?”
Mom nodded and scurried out of my room. She didn’t close the door behind her, and I groaned, getting up and slamming it quickly.
“Hello?”
“Hey.”
“David?” I squinted. “It’s been months.”
“Yeah,” David said darkly. “Sorry about that.”
“Is everything okay? Did something happen to Monica? Oh, my god, what’s–”
David laughed – a rough, raspy sound that turned into a cough. “Everything’s fine, calm down,” he said. “I mean, it’s not fine. But you know, whatever, we’ll get through it.”
I blinked. “Did you guys have a fight?” My stomach churned. ‘Why is he calling me?’ I wondered. ‘Why is he telling me all of this?’
“No, it’s nothing about Monica,” David said. He cleared his throat. “I haven’t been able to visit her in a few months because of this stupid, fucking curfew.”
My heart stopped in my chest. “You have a curfew there, too?”
David laughed humorlessly. “Oh, shit, it’s not just here?”
“Yeah,” I said. “Anyone under eighteen has to be inside, at home, by seven-thirty.” My wrists ached, and I shivered. For a moment, I debated telling David about what had happened that night. But I decided against it. Sharing something so personal probably wasn’t a good idea.
“Anyone under eighteen can’t leave town, except with a parent or guardian,” David said. He clucked his tongue. “It’s fucking insane. They’ve got cops set up at all the roads that lead outside of town. My friend tried a couple of weeks ago, and he was in jail for the whole night.”
I shivered. Against my better judgment, I blurted out, “Yeah, something similar happened to me.”
David fell quiet for a moment.
“I know this is crazy,” I said quickly, “but I think you were right.”
“About what?”
I lowered my voice and stepped away from the door, turning toward the window. “About Monica…and that whole witch thing,” I said quickly. “I know it sounds crazy, but I think there’s something supernatural going on here. And Monica’s in trouble. She disappeared for another month before Christmas.”
There was a long pause.
“David? You still there?”
“She doesn’t tell me anything anymore,” David said. He sounded bitter. “I haven’t really talked to her lately.”
‘Then why are you calling me?’
“Either way, she’s in trouble,” I said quickly. “And we have to help her. I don’t know. I asked her, like, if I could join…you know, like join her…” I trailed off.
“Her coven?” David snorted. “That’s what it’s called.”
I rolled my eyes. ‘Still insufferable,’ I thought. ‘Even if you are being a lot nicer.’
“Yeah,” I said quietly. “She got really mad and told me to stay out of it.”
David sighed. “Monica’s like that,” he said slowly. “She doesn’t want to accept any help from anyone if there’s even a chance she thinks she can do it herself.”
“Something really awful is happening,” I whispered, gripping the phone.
“It’ll probably get worse before it gets better,” David said. He sighed. “That’s usually the way things go.”
I swallowed. “I should probably get off the phone.”
“Okay. Bye, Elizabeth.”
It wasn’t until after we’d hung up that I realized I still had no idea why David had called in the first place. Just as I was texting to ask why, a loud knocking sounded from downstairs.
I shivered. Pressing my ear to my bedroom door, I listened as Mom walked into the foyer.
“Yes?”
“Mrs. Hartsell, is your daughter, Elizabeth, at home?”
Cold panic raced down my spine, and I felt rooted to the spot in fear as I heard the front door close and booming voices ascend from the downstairs foyer. My mom’s words were incoherent, a buzzy whine next to the booming voice of the cops.
“Elizabeth!” Mom yelled. “Can you come down here, please?”
My legs were shaking as I walked down the stairs. Sure enough, two cops were standing there, in full uniform. One of them was holding a pair of handcuffs.
“Elizabeth Hartsell,” one of the cops boomed.
I tried to look calm. “Yes?”
“You’ve been discussing forbidden topics,” one of the men said. “Come with us, please.”
In terror, I grabbed my Mom’s sleeve and tried to cling to her. “Mom, don’t let them take me,” I begged. “You can’t let them arrest me. I didn’t do anything wrong!”
“Ma’am, we’ll need to take your daughter down to the station,” one of the cops said.
My mom turned to me in dismay. “Elizabeth, what are they talking about?”
“I don’t know!” I shouted. “Please, don’t let them take me!”
“We’ve received reports that your daughter has been discussing witchcraft, both in person and telephonically,” the bulkier of the two cops said. “And as you know, as of the decree from last November that is a forbidden topic that carries punishment to the fullest extent of the law.”
“It’s not against the law to talk about witchcraft,” I said quickly. “There’s nothing in the Constitution about it!”
My mom was shaking her head. “Elizabeth, what is going on here?”
“I don’t know,” I begged. “Just please, please, don’t let them take me anywhere!”
“Step aside, ma’am,” one of the cops said to my mom. She moved out of the way slowly, as if in a trance. When the cop grabbed my wrists and forced them behind my back, I started to cry. The feel of cold metal encircling my wrists brought a flash to panic to the front of my mind, and I screamed.
Mom was staring at me like she’d never seen me before as the cops hustled me out of the door and into the cold, snowy night. They dragged me across the front yard and pushed me into the backseat of a police cruiser. I was shivering violently – I was only wearing thin pajamas – but the cops didn’t seem to notice. As they backed out of my parents’ driveway, they started chatting amiably about an annual police barbecue.
“Hey,” I said sharply, “I didn’t do anything wrong! You have to let me go!”
“I’d advise you to keep your mouth shut,” one of the cops snarled.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” I repeated.
The cop rolled his eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” he said. He turned back around, settling against the seat.
By the time we got to the police station downtown, my chest was so tight with anxiety that I thought I was going to throw up. Just like before, the cops left me in the car for almost an hour while they went inside. By the time they dragged me into the station, I was actually glad to be out of the cold. I was shivering and shaking as one of the cops dragged me down a familiar hallway.
But unlike last time, the room was full of people from all around Jaffrey. I recognized a couple of kids from school, as well as this old guy who used to live across the street from my parents. They were all handcuffed – silent and miserable.
“Is everybody here for the same thing?” I asked when the cop had left us alone. “Witchcraft?”
One of the kids glared at me. “Shut up,” he said. “They don’t like us talking.”
“I don’t like them hauling me downtown when I didn’t do anything wrong,” I cried loudly. “This isn’t fair!”
This time, multiple people glared, even my old neighbor.
“Elizabeth, keep your mouth shut,” he said. “This isn’t about you.”
Tears of frustration welled up in my eyes, and I sank down against the wall. The room smelled of sweat and piss and shit, and soon, no matter how I tried to block it out, the odor was trapped in my sinuses. I felt sick and tired and miserable. The metal cuffs were worse than the plastic ones. This time, the metal cut sharply into my skin, and soon my fingers were slippery with blood. Moaning softly, I closed my eyes and rested my head against the wall.
The cops never came back for me. They came back a few times during the night with kids – probably for violating curfew – but no one talked. No one even whispered.
And just like last time, there was no offer of food, water, or a toilet.
I closed my eyes and thought about David, thought about Monica. In my panic when I’d heard the knock on the door, I’d dropped my phone without sending a text. ‘Stupid,’ I thought. ‘I should’ve texted Monica and told her what was happening. She’s probably not even here. She’s probably in the woods, with her stupid fucking coven.’
I felt bleak and helpless. If someone had been listening to my phone call with David, it had taken practically no time for them to arrive at my front door and arrest me. It was chilling to realize that my hometown had become a police state overnight. And what was with the talk about the decree?
Suddenly, I remembered that night at the church when Andrea had begun railing against witches. I shivered.
Just then, the door swung open. A cop glanced down at his clipboard.
“Elizabeth Hartsell?”
I scrambled to my feet, wincing at the pain in my arms. “Yeah?”
“Come with me.”
My heart was thudding nervously as I followed the cop out to the hall. Just before we turned the corner, he grabbed me by the shoulders and turned me around. I heard the click of metal against metal, and suddenly, my hands were free. They were numb and purple, and I rubbed them until tears came to my eyes.
Monica was waiting in the lobby, looking oddly distant. “Come on,” she said.
Wordlessly, I followed her. It was early morning. Birds were singing, and the sun was making a valiant effort to appear from behind a gray cover of clouds.
Monica handed me a jacket. “It’s probably too big,” she said. “I borrowed it from Brian. I thought my stuff would be too small.”
I pulled it on, wrapping it around myself. It smelled comforting, like wood smoke. Monica turned and started walking away from town, away from my house.
“Where are we going?”
Monica didn’t reply. She set a fast pace, and I had to jog to keep up with her. I felt weak and hungry and tired, but I could feel adrenaline pumping through my veins as Monica walked on. Finally, I realized we were going to her house.
“Monica, I wanna go home,” I said, yawning. “I’m starving and tired.”
“I know.”
“So, I’m gonna go,” I said. “I’ll come over later, okay?”
Monica shook her head. “No,” she said. “Come with me.”
I felt my legs start to move again, and I looked down in horror to see that I was still following her. Fear settled in my chest, and I tried to breathe deeply, but I couldn’t quell the rising sense of panic.
When we were almost to Monica’s house, she turned and led me into the woods. My feet were soaking wet and freezing – I’d left my house for the police station in a pair of slippers – but Monica didn’t slow down. She led me deeper and deeper into the woods.
After about twenty minutes, Monica turned to me.
“Elizabeth?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still want to join the coven?”
I nodded. My teeth were chattering. “Yes,” I squeaked. “Yes.”
Monica closed her eyes and lifted her arms into the air. Suddenly, everything went black. I screamed as my body started to fall through space, my limbs thrashing and waving.
“Elizabeth…” Someone in the distance was calling my name.
I tried to squint, but I couldn’t see anything other than an inky sea of black. I was slowing down, and soon I was just floating, like I was in the middle of the ocean.
“Elizabeth…Sleep now, Elizabeth.”
It was the last thing I heard before passing out.
THE END