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Touch of Fire (Into the Darkness Book 1) by Jasmine B. Waters (32)

Chapter Nine

Monica

With a groan, I opened my eyes. I expected to see Henrik or his coven dancing around me and moaning. Instead, I was shocked to discover that I was in my parents’ backyard, covered in dirt.

The athame was sitting in my lap. The blade gleamed, reflecting my own face in the shiny surface.

I shivered. ‘Did I just have a bad dream,’ I wondered as I climbed to my feet and brushed my hands off on my thighs. ‘What the hell happened?’

The sky was tinged pink and orange with the setting of the sun, and the air was brisk and chilly. I shivered and wrapped my arms around my torso, hugging myself for warmth. After a few seconds, I grabbed the athame and held it at my side, clutching the handle with a white-knuckled grip.

Inside, Jamie and Brian were sitting at the dinner table, full glasses of wine in front of them.

Jamie looked up at me and smiled. “There you are,” she said. “I was actually starting to worry.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Hey.” I cleared my throat. “Could I have something to eat?”

“Your father made mushroom risotto; it’s in the kitchen.” Jamie yawned. “You must be tired.”

I nodded. “Exhausted.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Brian said. He barely glanced up from the papers. “Have fun with David?”

“I wasn’t with David.” I held the knife behind my back and made my way across the room, keeping it out of sight.

“Oh.” Brian turned a page, narrowing his eyes at a headline. “Where did you go?”

I shrugged. “I was around.”

“I knew you’d be fine,” Jamie said absentmindedly. She yawned, rubbing at her eyes with both fists. “You missed a week of school, though. Should probably phone your teachers and ask for assignments.”

My eyes widened. “I was gone for a week?”

Jamie nodded. She and Brian exchanged a knowing glance. “And just how much acid did you decide to drop?” Jamie giggled. “It’s okay, honey. You don’t have to tell me. Just be safe, okay? Try not to have a bad trip. They’re a real pain in the ass.”

“Um, yeah,” I said. “I’m going to take a shower, okay?”

Jamie and Brian nodded in unison. I bolted upstairs, clutching the athame to my chest.

My room looked almost exactly the same as it had when I’d left. My bed was mussed, and my closet was undisturbed. It felt so surreal – and yet, so amazing – to be home that I was starting to feel overwhelmed. Each passing second only created more questions in my brain. ‘Was I really gone for a week? What happened? Why can’t I remember more from the time I was gone? Was I actually gone, or was I just hallucinating in the woods?’

It was very strange. Whenever I closed my eyes, I could remember the exact feeling of Henrik grabbing my shoulder. I could remember the heat of the flames and even the herbal smell of the smoke that had surrounded the coven.

But I could barely remember what had actually happened.

I shuddered. ‘It was probably some kind of hallucinatory thing,’ I realized as I stripped down and pulled on my bathrobe. ‘Like, maybe some of that stuff at the party was spiked with LSD. I bet Steven’s asshole jock friends would do that as a joke.’

An idea struck me. I walked over to my desk and grabbed a pen and a notepad. In a trembling hand, I wrote Henrik’s name. But when I tried to remember what he looked like, the image faded from my mind. I clenched my jaw in frustration and tried to think. Was he old? Young? Foreign? With a name like Henrik, probably so – but I couldn’t remember him having any kind of an accent. I couldn’t remember what he’d worn. I couldn’t remember how his voice had sounded.

In fact, the only memory that was really sticking with me was the feeling, the sensation, of being trapped and captured. I shuddered. Once, I’d read a news clipping about a serial killer who abducted women and drugged them heavily so they wouldn’t remember undergoing torture. Most of the time, the drugs killed them. But in a few cases, they survived with no memories of what had happened.

Fear swelled in my chest. I decided to take a hot shower -- that had sometimes helped me calm down in the past, so it was at least worth a try.

I locked myself in the bathroom and sat down on the toilet as I waited for the water heater to warm up. Soon, clouds of white steam filled the bathroom. I inhaled as deeply as I could. It felt purifying, cleansing. ‘This was all a dream,’ I told myself firmly as I shed my robe and climbed into the shower. ‘I made everything up in my head.’

The hot water soaked my hair and body. I closed my eyes and held my head under the warm spray for as long as I could until my lungs were burning for air.

Whenever the water touched the inside of my right forearm, it burned. Glancing down, I saw that my arm was covered in crude tattoos. They were still bleeding. The skin was red and angry, and I gasped in horror when I recognized the symbols.

They were the exact same symbols that had been carved into the handle of the athame.

I muffled my screams with both hands, sobbing and crying blindly until I could no longer breathe in the steam-filled bathroom. My hands shook as I turned off the water and fumbled for my towel and then my robe.

It was dumb, but part of me thought I’d just made the symbols up in my head. When I was locked in the safety of my room, I studied my arm. They were definitely real. I could see where the edge of each tattoo was raw and beginning to scab over. But I didn’t remember getting them, and I had no idea what they meant. I stared down at the symbols for so long that they started to move and sway in the dim light of my desk lamp.

I took a deep breath. I knew that I couldn’t be alone with my thoughts anymore. I had to do something to distract myself. I pulled on clean clothes and then went downstairs.

“Hey, sweetie,” Brian said. “Feeling better?”

I nodded stiffly.

“I bet you’re tired,” Jamie said. She winked at Brian. “You know, when I met your father, I don’t think we slept for a week.”

I forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m tired,” I said.

“You better make sure that David uses protection,” Jamie said. “You are being smart about this, aren’t you, honey?”

I nodded again. “I’m going to heat up some of that risotto. You want anything?”

Jamie shook her head. “Brian’s going to make spaghetti for dinner, if you feel like waiting.”

“Okay.” My stomach rumbled. Suddenly, the faint, irony taste of rare meat came into my mouth, and I swallowed, realizing how hungry I really was.

Jamie was sitting in the living room, half-watching a design show on the portable TV that she and Brian had had since college. Living with aging hippies hadn’t ever really bothered me, but I did have to admit that I was jealous of the flat screen that Elizabeth had in her room.

‘Elizabeth! I need to call her!’ Instinctively, I reached into my pocket for my phone. My fingers just touched empty denim, and I realized that I hadn’t seen my phone in my room, either.

“Hey, have you seen my phone anywhere?”

Jamie glanced up from the television. “What?”

“My phone,” I repeated. “I think I left it around here somewhere. Have you seen it?”

Jamie chuckled. “Ah, young love,” she said. “If I had a dime for everything I misplaced when I first started seeing your father…”

I frowned, but didn’t want to argue. I couldn’t deny that I was hurt by my parents not caring more. What if something bad had happened? What if I’d been killed or kidnapped or something?

“Did you worry when I was gone?”

“What? No,” Jamie said. She frowned. “Why would I worry? Your father and I know you’re a smart, capable girl.”

“I’m fifteen,” I said flatly. “I’ve never run off before.”

Jamie shrugged. “Teenage hormones,” she said dismissively. “You’ve just got to get it out of your system. You know, Elizabeth’s mother, Agnes, called the police. They came over here, but we just didn’t think any kind of investigation was necessary.”

‘Ouch.’

“But something could have happened to me,” I said quietly. “Something really awful.”

“But it didn’t,” Jamie said. She shrugged. “And like I said, Monica, your father and I trust you. We know you wouldn’t do anything wrong.”

I sighed. “Okay.”

“What? You’re upset with me now because I’m not some helicopter mother?”

“No,” I lied. “I’m fine.”

“You’re awfully moody tonight.” Jamie yawned. “You getting your period? You pregnant?”

“No,” I said sharply. Jamie looked offended, and I bit my lip. “Just tired. That’s all.”

“Well, maybe go to bed early after dinner. You can take tomorrow off if you want. I’ll call in to the school and say you’re sick.”

“I should really go,” I said. I slid off the couch. “I’m going to get something to eat. I don’t think I can wait for dinner.”

“Your father’s spaghetti is something special,” Jamie called over my shoulder. “You should try some later, honey.”

I swallowed and didn’t reply. I couldn’t believe the way my mother was acting. Even though she’d never really been a traditional mother, it was crazy. ‘Almost as crazy as this stupid thing on my arm,’ I thought as I pulled open the fridge and grabbed the plastic container of risotto. ‘What the hell is going on?’

Brian had a fire roaring in the dining room. When my risotto was steaming hot, I dumped it into a bowl and went to sit by the fire. The house was freezing cold, but the flames warmed my limbs and burned the exposed skin on my face. I closed my eyes, relishing the hot warmth against the thin skin of my eyelids.

“Monica…Monica…”

My eyes flashed open. The flames of the fire were dancing and twisting higher, wildly moving out of control. I couldn’t look away as they shifted and swelled, almost like something live.

My heart thumped in my chest, and my mouth went dry as I saw the flames slowly take human form. A fiery figure appeared – a woman clothed in a bonnet and a long dress – and grew larger with each passing second. I gasped in fright as a fiery finger extended from the fireplace.

“Monica…”

The fire hissed and crackled, and I jumped at the clear sound of my name. The fiery woman came closer, and I cried out in shock as I recognized Andrea.

“Monica, you are condemned to death!” The woman threw her head back and cackled. Her flaming eyes sparkled with excitement and evil. She grinned maliciously at me, exposing a mouth of crooked, fiery teeth.

“Go away,” I whimpered, backing away from the fire. “This isn’t happening! This is a dream!”

“Monica, you will be put to death for practicing witchcraft and bringing evil to the village of Jaffrey. I condemn you.”

“No!” I cried loudly. “No! Stop! This isn’t happening!” I closed my eyes and covered my ears with both hands, desperate to block out Andrea’s fiery apparition. Her voice carried through the room as loud as the gusts of wind outside. I trembled in fright as she spoke the same phrase, again and again, until I thought I would lose my mind.

The door flew open, and the flames of the fire died down, sinking back down into the fireplace until it was just a normal fire again, crackling and hissing.

Brian and Jamie stood in the doorway, looking horrified.

“You were screaming,” Brian said. “Is everything okay?” He looked at me with the most concern I’d ever seen on his face.

I nodded. “I’m fine,” I lied. “I’m totally fine.”

 

 

 

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