Outcast (Moonlight Wolves Book 4) by Jasmine B. Waters (23)

Book 3: The Hunt

Prologue

Elizabeth – Present Day

“Oh, my god, congratulations!” Karen pulled me into a warm hug, clutching me tightly before releasing me and grabbing my hand. “This is beautiful!”

I bit my lip and smiled self-consciously. I wouldn’t have admitted it for anything in the world, but I’d been staring at my ring for the better part of the day. Until Steven had asked me to marry him, I’d always thought all the fuss and nonsense over new engagements was pretty stupid.

“Thanks.” I grinned at Karen. “And thanks for this. This is all really nice.” I gestured around to the inside of the kitchen. When Steven and I had told her the news, she’d immediately decided that we should throw ourselves an engagement party. I thought the idea was kind of silly, but Karen was really excited. She threw herself into baking these elaborate little appetizers and snacks. Now the house was packed with practically everyone Steven and I had known in grade school and college.

“I know,” Karen said modestly. She smiled again. “This is just so exciting! I don’t even know what to say!”

I nodded slowly. “It feels kind of surreal,” I admitted. “I wasn’t expecting a proposal at all.”

Karen frowned. “You guys didn’t talk about it before?”

I shook my head and narrowed my eyes. “Why? Did Steven say something about it to you?”

“No, nothing like that,” Karen said quickly. “He didn’t even ask me to go ring shopping with him.”

‘Why would he?’ I thought, biting the inside of my mouth to keep from saying it aloud. ‘It’s not like you and I are good friends or anything like that.’

Instead, I forced another smile. “Yeah, well, you know Steven,” I said. I rolled my eyes. “He always has to be right about everything, and on his own terms, too.”

Karen nodded. “So, have you set a date?”

I shook my head. “We’re just taking things one step at a time,” I said slowly. “I don’t even want to think about planning a wedding right now.” I shrugged. “It’s just so much.”

Karen’s eyes got big and wide. “Elizabeth,” she said. “Come on! Aren’t you even a little bit excited?”

The truth was, I wasn’t. The day after Steven had proposed, he’d come home with an armful of magazines and wedding planning books. He’d been really thrilled about it all, and I’d dutifully flipped through a couple of the magazines after dinner while we were sitting in our bedroom. But seeing the exorbitant price tags on everything made me a little squeamish. It seemed so stupid to spend so much on a giant wedding when we weren’t even that social in the first place.

“Yeah,” I said. “Well, I’m excited to be marrying Steven. I don’t really know about a wedding, though.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, it’ll be great,” Karen said enthusiastically. “I have a cousin who’s a wedding planner in Boston. Oh, my god, she just makes everything perfect. Have you thought about a maid of honor yet? Bridesmaids?”

I shook my head.

“Elizabeth!” Karen laughed. “You have to pick that stuff soon! You know, like all of your friends are going to be wondering.”

I shrugged. “I mean, I guess I wasn’t really thinking about having a bridal party.”

Karen looked deeply, personally offended. I wondered if she’d been hoping for an invitation.

“Elizabeth, you have to take this seriously,” Karen said. “This is, like, the one time in life where everything is about you, and you can demand anything you want.”

I laughed nervously. “I don’t really agree,” I said. “I mean, no one actually likes being a bridesmaid, right? They just do it out of obligation?” I wrinkled my nose. “All those tacky dresses … ew,” I added. “Maybe we’ll just go to the courthouse and get married in jeans.”

Just as Karen was about to chastise me, Steven swept through the kitchen and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him deeply, relieved to have an excuse to walk away from Karen.

“You look gorgeous,” Steven said. He pulled away, surveying my outfit and grinning. “Man, I haven’t seen some of these guys since high school!”

I nodded, glancing around. Music was blaring through the house, and the kitchen was filled with a bunch of people drinking punch out of red plastic cups and eating Karen’s canapes.

“I still feel like a kid,” I admitted to Steven. “Somehow, I thought getting engaged would make me feel like an adult.”

Steven rolled his eyes and kissed the tip of my nose. “Yeah, you old lady,” he said with a smirk. “All of twenty-two and off the market already.” He laughed at his own joke. For a reason I couldn’t have explained, a feeling of discomfort washed over me, and I nodded mechanically.

“Hey, kid, what is it?” Steven frowned. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “Fine. I’m going to go see who showed up. It’s kind of rude to be ignoring our guests.”

For a moment, Steven looked like he was about to argue. Then he nodded. “Yeah,” he said, “you’re right.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. “See you later, kid.”

I yelped as Steven playfully swatted me on the ass before grabbing a beer from the fridge and sauntering out of the room, looking cocky and smug.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Karen darting toward me. ‘Shit,’ I thought. I didn’t want to answer any more of her stupid wedding planning questions, although I had a feeling literally everyone at the party would be asking me the same stuff. ‘Is it going to be like this until we get married?’ I wondered as I poured some rum punch in a cup and walked outside. ‘Is everyone just going to ask me about dresses, and venues, and catering, and bridesmaids?’

I knew I should be happy. According to one of the books Steven had brought home the other night, this was supposed to be the happiest time of my life. But whenever I thought about walking down a silent aisle in front of hundreds of people, my throat closed up, and I felt scared and shaky. I hated being the center of attention. The thought of everyone watching me, inspecting my every detail, made me incredibly nervous.

I pushed my way through the crowd and went outside to sit on the porch. Our driveway was overflowing with cars, some of them spilling onto the front yard. I bit my lip and took a long sip of rum punch, enjoying the liquor’s burn as it slid down my throat. Inside, I could hear Steven laughing and cracking loud jokes with his friends about a ball and chain.

If anything, that just made me feel worse.

It was cold and dreary, more like fall weather than spring. The sky was full of inky clouds, racing back and forth, and it wasn’t long before a cold rain started to splash down. I curled up on the porch swing, sipping my rum and listening to the sounds of everyone, but me, enjoying my engagement party.

A station wagon pulled up and parked, the headlights sweeping across the front of the house. The glare was so bright that I couldn’t see who was driving until they parked and climbed out. I gasped. A tall, lanky guy with black hair flopping in his eyes was loping toward the house in an oddly graceful gait.

David.

I stood up and set my cup of punch down. When David got to the porch and saw me, he threw me a cockeyed grin.

“And just what is the bride-to-be doing out here alone? Banished?”

I shook my head. “It’s crowded in there,” I said slowly. “I needed some air.”

David nodded. He stepped closer, and my heart thudded in my chest as he pulled me into a tight embrace. Under his baggy, black clothing, his body was thin, almost bony. But his grip was surprisingly strong, and I sagged against him.

When we pulled away, I felt strangely naked and vulnerable.

David showed no sign of being affected, though. He ambled over to the porch swing and sat down, brushing droplets of water from his lightweight, black trench coat.

“Want some punch?”

“I can go in and get it,” David said.

“No,” I said quickly. “I’ll be right back.” I couldn’t explain it, but something inside of me wasn’t ready to go back in for good. There was something infinitely more appealing about sitting quietly with David and listening to the rain.

Thankfully, no one noticed me as I slunk into the kitchen and poured rum punch into two red cups, filling them up nearly to the brim. I walked outside carefully, holding both cups in front of me and trying not to spill.

“Thanks,” David said when I handed one of the cups over. “I guess congratulations are in order.”

I groaned. “I really, really don’t wanna talk about the wedding right now.”

David narrowed his eyes. His face had changed since we were kids; he’d finally grown into his long facial features. His chin was free of scruff, but his eyes seemed darker than ever.

“Why? Did something happen?”

“No,” I said quickly, “nothing like that.” I sighed. “It’s just…oh, I don’t know. Ever since I got this thing,” I held up my hand, showing David my engagement diamond, “all everyone wants to talk about is wedding planning. And it’s, like, if I don’t wanna talk about it, then I’m the weird one.”

David nodded. “I get that,” he said.

I swallowed a big mouthful of rum punch. The liquor was starting to work its magic on me, and I felt a little more confident than I had before, when Karen had cornered me in the kitchen.

“So,” I said, “are you seeing anyone?”

David shook his head. “No,” he said stiffly. “I haven’t, since–”

“Oh,” I said softly. “Sorry. I didn’t know.”

David shrugged. “It’s not a big deal,” he said. “I mean, it is. But I guess not really anymore.”

I sank against the ancient wood of the swing, making the chains that fastened it to the ceiling creak.

“I think about her all the time,” I said. “It’s, like, no matter what I do, she’s always there.”

David nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Sometimes I feel like that, too.”

“I wonder what she’d be doing now,” I said sulkily.

David shrugged. “That’s the part I try not to think about,” he said. His voice was dark and laced with obvious pain. “I hate thinking that she could be here, but she’s not.”

Just as I was about to ask him what exactly he meant, the front door swung open, and Steven strode out. When he saw me, he grinned, but the smile faded instantly when he caught a glimpse of David.

“What’s he doing here?” Steven said, more to David than to me.

“I came to show my support,” David said. He grinned sarcastically at Steven. “Isn’t that allowed? This is an engagement, after all.”

Steven narrowed his eyes and scowled.

“Steven, it’s fine,” I said quickly, getting to my feet. “Really. I invited him.”

“You did what?” Steven glared at me. “Are you kidding me, Elizabeth?”

I shook my head. “Of course not,” I said. My heart skipped a beat in alarm, and I felt blood rising to the surface of my skin.

“Why would you do something like that?”

“Because he is my friend,” I shot back.

“Whatever,” Steven said. He sighed loudly and whistled. “I’m going inside. This is fuckin’ bullshit. Elizabeth, come on.” He pushed the door open and jerked his head toward the inside of the house.

I shook my head. “I’m gonna stay out here for a while,” I said. “It’s too hot in there for me.”

Steven rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said. Before I could reply, he walked inside and slammed the door.

“Sorry about that,” I said to David. “I didn’t know he’d be that pissed.”

Oddly, David didn’t look the least bit bothered by my fiancé’s rudeness.

“I think he’s probably just…” I trailed off. “I don’t know. He’s still upset about Monica, too.” I felt like I was groping for words. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

David gave me an odd smile. “I didn’t,” he said. He took a long swallow of punch.

I frowned. To be honest, I wasn’t exactly sure what had made me want to invite David. It had been years since we’d talked. But a couple of nights ago, I hadn’t been able to sleep. I’d taken my laptop down to the kitchen and wound up poking around Facebook. David had shown up in a list of people that I ‘might know,’ and I hadn’t been able to resist sending him a message. He’d replied almost instantly, and we ended up chatting until the wee hours of the morning. Toward the end of the conversation, I’d invited him to the engagement party.

Of course, I hadn’t exactly thought that he was going to show up.

“So,” David said. He smirked. “What’s going on, Elizabeth? You look pretty miserable.”

I sighed. “I’m not,” I said. “I…I don’t really know, to be honest. I feel like a lot of stuff is changing, and I’m sort of stuck here, watching it happen.”

“You sound depressed.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that, really,” I said. I bit my lip. “I don’t know. Maybe it is. Maybe I am.”

“If you ever want to talk, I’m here,” David said.

I stared at him. “That’s an odd thing to say.”

“Why? We’re friends,” David said.

“I guess we are,” I said slowly. “I just … I don’t know. I guess I don’t really know what to think right now.”

David nodded. “You’re going through a lot,” he said. “You’ll figure it out.”

I slumped against the porch swing. “I hope so,” I said.

The rain started falling faster and heavier. We sat in silence, rocking slowly on the creaky, old swing. I finished my punch, but I didn’t feel like going back inside; the raucous cries were now louder than ever, and I didn’t feel like facing Steven, or Karen, or any of the other people who were, supposedly, my friends.

Part of me wondered if David was right. I didn’t exactly feel like I was going through anything. And yet, when Steven asked me to marry him, I’d felt a little kernel of doubt in my heart. Over the past few weeks, I’d been practically praying for it to vanish, for real happiness to sink in, for real excitement. But instead, I just felt like I was walking slowly toward a fire that I was powerless to stop.

I stared at David’s elfin profile. In the seven, or so, years since everything had happened, I’d barely thought about him. But now that he was here, next to me, he seemed infinitely more interesting than anything else going on around me.

“I’m gonna go,” David said abruptly. “Thanks for having me, Elizabeth.”

I frowned. “You sure?”

David laughed humorlessly. “Yeah,” he said. “I hate parties. Besides,” he added, glancing toward the front door, “might be a good idea to leave before anything else happens.”

He leaned in for another hug, but made sure to keep most of his body away from mine. I stood stiffly as he kissed me on the cheek.

“Bye, Elizabeth,” David said. “Don’t worry. You’ll be a beautiful bride.” He gave me an ambiguous smile; I couldn’t tell if he was sincere or mocking.

“Bye,” I whispered. David bobbed his head, then loped toward his car and drove off in a haze of rain.

---

I stayed outside for another hour, or so, until the rain finally started to clear and people began filtering out through the front door. Everyone seemed genuinely surprised to see me outside, like they hadn’t even noticed my absence in the house. I forced a smile and greeted them all as they left and walked to the cars. When it was finally quiet inside, I grabbed the empty plastic cups and walked into the kitchen.

Steven and Karen were laughing, doing the dishes together, and flicking suds and water at each other. When Karen saw me, she burst out laughing.

“Elizabeth, where the heck have you been?”

Steven’s smile faded as soon as he saw me. “Hey, Karen, thanks for your help,” he said smoothly. “But, I think Elizabeth and I can take it from here.”

Karen lingered in the doorway, watching me with wide eyes. Finally, when she realized we weren’t going to say anything until after she’d gone, she rolled her eyes and walked upstairs in a huff.

“What the hell was that?!” Steven demanded. “How the fuck could you just leave your own party?”

“I didn’t leave,” I said truthfully. “I was outside. It was too loud in here.”

Steven groaned. “Elizabeth, come on!” He narrowed his eyes. “Do you realize how stupid I looked, entertaining everyone by myself? That was our fucking engagement party, and you weren’t even present!”

“I wasn’t the one who wanted a party,” I shot back. “It was Karen’s idea, and you went along with it.”

“What kind of girl doesn’t want an engagement party?” Steven glared. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. My manic-depressive fiancée. That’s who.”

“That’s not fair,” I shot back. “You know I’ve never been as social as you! You know big things make me uncomfortable.”

“But this is about us,” Steven said. “Elizabeth, you have to compromise with me. We aren’t just eloping, you know.”

“I wish we could,” I muttered under my breath.

“What?” Now, Steven looked truly angry. “What did you just say?”

I shrugged. Suddenly, the will to fight melted, and I shook my head.

“I just wish we didn’t have to have a big wedding,” I said. “I mean, it’s about us, right? We should be able to decide.”

Steven sighed. “Elizabeth, you know we can’t do that. My family would freak out.”

“So? They’re not the ones getting married.”

Steven groaned and raked a hand through his hair. “Elizabeth that is so not the point. Weddings are about two families joining each other, not just us!”

I narrowed my eyes. “Well, I don’t want a big wedding,” I said. “It makes me uncomfortable. You know how much I hate being the center of attention.”

“You’re gonna need to suck it up for a day,” Steven said. He shrugged. “That’s the way weddings are done in my family. You knew that, Elizabeth.”

I felt my anger come rushing back in hot waves. “No,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest and shook my head. “I’m not doing that.”

“Grow up,” Steven muttered. He turned away from me and grabbed a dish from the sink, roughly soaping it and washing it under the stream of water.

I snorted in disbelief. “You don’t respect me,” I said.

Steven dropped the dish in the sink and turned around, putting his hands on his hips. “What did you just say?”

“I said, you don’t respect me.” I felt my anger growing and growing inside of me like a beast – a beast that I couldn’t control. My heart was pounding against my ribs, and even though I knew I would regret it, I couldn’t help spitting out: “And you never have!”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Steven asked warily. “What are you talking about? Of course, I respect you, Elizabeth. Damn it, I asked you to be my wife!”

I took a shaky deep breath. “Nothing. Forget I said anything.”

Steven crossed the floor in two giant steps and grabbed my arms with his wet, soapy hands. I tried to push him away, but he was stronger, and soon he shook me and pulled me close.

“No, you can’t play games like this,” Steven growled. “You need to tell me what the fuck you meant. Now, Elizabeth!”

“Stop yelling,” I said. “Just forget it, okay?”

“No!” Steven roared. “Damn it, Elizabeth. Tell me!”

I sighed. “I…I know there was something going on between you and your sister,” I finally said. “Back when we were kids, when you and I first started dating.”

Steven’s face turned bloodless and white. He released my arms, and I sagged for a moment before wrapping my arms tightly around my body and holding myself.

“Steven?” I tried nervously. “Are you okay?”

Steven’s mouth formed a thin, angry line. He pushed past me and stalked up the stairs. When I heard the bedroom door slam, I winced.

Part of me wanted to run to him and talk to him, make this better. But another part of me – a bigger part of me – felt like that wouldn’t be a good idea. I poured the last of the rum punch into a cup and sat down at the table, sipping slowly. I wondered what I was doing. I wondered if I should have said ‘no’ when Steven asked me to marry him. As much as I wanted to believe that Steven respected me, I’d just gotten almost concrete proof of the opposite. But maybe that was normal – maybe that was how most marriages worked.

I swallowed and shifted in my chair, feeling uncomfortable. I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do next, but I knew that if I didn’t decide something soon, it would be too late.

Chapter One

Elizabeth – Seven Years Ago

I pushed open the door to my room and gasped. My feet were rooted firmly to the spot, and a shiver inched down my spine.

Monica was sitting lotus-style on my bed. When she saw me, she smiled.

“Hey,” Monica said. “God, you took forever to get home! I feel like I’ve been waiting for hours!” Her cheeks were flushed pink.

“I was just outside,” I said slowly. “How did you get here? I’ve been in the driveway the whole time.”

“Elizabeth, come on,” Monica said. “We both know you’re not exactly the most observant person in the world.”

I stared at her. “But … I just … I just went outside a few minutes ago. I didn’t see you come in,” I added. “What’s up?”

Monica grinned. “You’ve been anxious over Steven and Andrea,” she said softly. She raised an eyebrow. “But I know how you can win Steven – for good.”

My jaw dropped. “What?”

“I know all about what’s going on,” Monica continued. “And I know how you can come out on top.” Her grin turned sinister in the low afternoon light.

I felt myself begin to tremble and shake with fear.

“Come here, Elizabeth,” Monica said. She beckoned me with a slender finger. “Don’t you want to know?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Why? What happened? Are you okay?” I walked closer to my friend, unable to keep the fear from welling up inside of my chest. “Did something happen between the end of school and now?”

Monica laughed. Her eyes glittered. “Elizabeth, what are you talking about?” She tossed her blonde hair disdainfully over one shoulder. “I wasn’t in school today. Are you feeling all right?”

My heart sank, and I sat down on the corner of the bed, feeling afraid of my best friend for what felt like the first time in my life. Monica looked so calm and peaceful. She also looked healthy, with pink cheeks and a mysterious look in her brown eyes. The combination of her petite stature and the way she was sitting made her look ancient and wise.

“I saw you in homeroom,” I said warily. “You got angry with me when I asked where you’d been.”

Monica laughed. “God, Elizabeth, stop lying,” she said. “I get it. You’re trying to make me feel guilty. Look, I feel bad that I haven’t been here for you. That’s why I wanna help with Steven.” Her eyes flashed, and she grinned. “I have the perfect idea.”

I licked my lips. My heart was thudding, and my palms were covered in a cold, unpleasant sweat. “Okay,” I said slowly. “What’s up?”

Monica shrugged. “You just have to prove that Andrea is insane,” she said calmly. “That’s all. Then Steven will be yours.”

A wave of nausea washed over me, and I gripped the bedpost, clutching it tightly until my knuckles turned white. “I don’t get it,” I said flatly. “What are you even talking about?”

Monica laughed again. “Elizabeth, come on,” she said. “I know why you’re worried. You think he doesn’t want you because he’s involved with his sister.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

“And she’s crazy,” Monica continued, apparently unruffled by my changing facial expressions. “She’s totally nuts, and we have to prove it.”

I swallowed uncomfortably. “I…I don’t really see how that’s possible,” I said flatly. “We’re not doctors, Monica. We’re kids, just like Andrea.”

Monica laughed. The sound sent chills down my spine. I wished I could close my eyes, cover my ears with my hands, and sing really loudly to drown her out, but I knew I couldn’t. ‘For fuck’s sake, Elizabeth, pull yourself together,’ I ordered myself. ‘She’s probably been through something really horrible and traumatic, and you’re her best friend! You should help her!’

“Look, we don’t need to talk about me right now,” I said. “Why don’t you tell me what happened, where you went?”

“Later,” Monica said calmly. “I wouldn’t worry about that right now.” She raised an eyebrow. “Listen, Elizabeth, I know how we can prove it.”

I sighed. It was obvious she was dead-set on telling me … well, whatever it was that was on her mind. That wasn’t exactly unusual when it came to Monica. Sometimes, her incredible intelligence was like blinders that kept her eyes straight and narrow, focused on just one thing. Obsessing over it, even. I knew I should be glad that she was back to acting like her old self, but there was something different about her. Something off, like a piece of her personality had changed and become harder. I felt like I knew nothing about her as we sat together.

“Okay,” I said uncertainly. “Tell me. How are we going to prove that Andrea is insane?”

Monica chuckled. “That’s the easy part,” she said. “Andrea’s insane because she’s a reincarnated Puritan.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “What?”

“She’s a reincarnated Puritan,” Monica said in a bossy voice. “She’s a direct descendent of this woman, Prudence Arrowsmith, who devoted her life to hunting witches and ridding the world of them.”

I sank against the wall. “Monica …”

“What?” Monica’s brown eyes flashed. “What is it?”

“That …” I trailed off, biting my lip. ‘That sounds crazy,’ I finished in my head. But I knew I couldn’t say that, not to my best friend. ‘Maybe this is Monica’s way of dealing with whatever trauma she just experienced,’ I thought. Tears of worry and fright came to my eyes, and I blinked them away before she could notice.

“It’s true,” Monica said confidently. “She’s exactly the same soul as Prudence. Why the hell do you think she hates me so much?”

‘Well, for one, you scared the shit out of her last year,’ I thought grimly, biting my lip. But I knew I couldn’t say that to Monica.

“I don’t know,” I said weakly. “I guess because you’re not crazy about religion like she is.”

“That’s part of it,” Monica said. She grinned. “But it’s also because she knows me. Our souls have known each other for a very long time, Elizabeth.”

I stared at her in shock. Every word that came out of Monica’s mouth made her sound more and more deranged. The worst part of it was her infuriating calm, the way she sat there smiling, acting like she was giving me some kind of secret news.

“Okay,” I said slowly. “How do you know this?” My heart was racing. I wondered if I shouldn’t be recording our conversation. Monica was obviously very sick. My mind began spinning down a frantic path as I wondered what the hell I was going to do when she left. Obviously, I couldn’t call Jamie and Brian. Even if they did care, they weren’t likely to do anything. Maybe I could talk to my mom, but I had a feeling she’d just call the cops. Maybe—

“You’re not listening,” Monica said peevishly, interrupting my thoughts. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Look, Elizabeth, it’s really simple. We just have to get Andrea to reveal who she really is, and catch her saying it, and then she’ll probably get locked up or something. It’s that easy.”

“I …” I trailed off. ‘Yeah, but do you even realize how you sound?’ I thought as I stared at my best friend. ‘You sound totally nuts. And by your logic, how come they wouldn’t lock you up, too?’

“Don’t be scared, Elizabeth,” Monica said. She reached out and touched me on the shoulder. I tried not to flinch; her thin fingers were as cold as icicles.

“I’m not really scared,” I lied. “I mean, about Andrea.”

“I mean, don’t be afraid of her,” Monica continued. “Just because she’s made it her mission to continue the witch hunt of the old days, that doesn’t mean she knows what she’s doing.”

I gulped. “Are you saying there are witches around here?”

Monica shrugged.

I bit my lip. “Monica, we’re best friends,” I said slowly, “but I’m really worried about you. Ever since you came back, you just seem so different,” I said, groping for words and feeling lamer by the second. “I just think something really bad might’ve happened, and maybe this is the way you’re choosing to deal with it.”

Monica narrowed her eyes. “What? What are you getting at?”

I blushed. “It’s just … you never talk like this,” I said quietly. “You’re so rational. And now you’re talking about witches and reincarnation. Monica, it’s too much. You know that stuff isn’t real. It’s never been real.”

Monica raised her eyebrows.

“And I’m just really worried about you,” I said quickly. “I don’t want anything to be wrong, Monica, but have you thought about maybe seeing a doctor? I could have Steven drive you if you don’t want Jamie and–”
“Enough,” Monica said. She stood up and glared at me. “If you can’t listen to my advice, fine. But I’m just trying to help!” Her nostrils flared with anger, and she stalked toward the door, yanking it open so hard the wall creaked.

“Monica, come on,” I said. “You don’t have to go! I’m just worried about you!”

Monica’s eyes flashed with anger. “Forget it, Elizabeth,” she said. “I can take care of myself!”

As she stormed out of my room, I felt powerless to stop her. I’d thought that when Monica came back, everything would be better. But now, things seemed worse than ever, and I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do to help.

Chapter Two

The next day, I called Steven and asked him to come over. My parents hadn’t come home yet, but I didn’t think they would care. Besides, for once, talking to Steven on the phone didn’t make me nervous. I wasn’t thinking about he and I together; I was worried about Monica.

When Steven came over, I led him into the kitchen. “I was studying,” I said, clearing my stuff off of the table. “Can I get you anything?”

Steven stretched. “Yeah,” he said, “I’m starving. Got anything to eat?”

I burst out laughing.

“What?” Steven cocked his head to the side and gave me a funny look. “What’s going on?”

I blushed. “Nothing,” I said. After a pause, I added, “My mom just made a joke the other day about my little brother, after he ate a whole bag of clementines in one sitting. She said teenage boys are like vacuums.”

Steven snickered. “I ate three sandwiches and two pieces of pizza at lunch,” he said. “And I’m already hungry again.”

I rolled my eyes. Pulling open the fridge, I grabbed a container of brownies and some leftover chicken salad. When I set the boxes down on the table, Steven ripped the lid off the brownies and immediately ate four, rubbing his stomach and groaning. I felt both slightly embarrassed and intrigued – watching someone eat felt intimate and strange. Goosebumps broke out over my body, and eventually, I took a fork and picked at the chicken salad, too afraid that Steven would ask me something as soon as my mouth was full.

“So, what’s up?” Steven belched, covering his mouth. “What did you wanna talk about?”

For a moment, the horrible text I’d seen on Steven’s phone came rushing back to the front of my memory. Closing my eyes, I forced it away.

“Monica,” I said. “Ever since she got back, she’s…she’s been acting really weird, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh yeah?” Steven raised an eyebrow. “Like what? What did she say?”

I blushed. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him everything, although I could practically hear Monica’s words of ‘how to win Steven for good’ echoing in my head.

“Well, that’s the funny thing,” I said slowly, nibbling at a forkful of chicken. “It was kind of about you. Well, not you. I mean, yeah, you, but more about Andrea.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “Not this séance shit again,” he muttered under his breath. “God, Mom was about ready to kill Monica when that happened last year. Andrea slept with the lights on for six months after that.”

I bit my lip. “No, not about that, exactly…” I trailed off. “She just thinks Andrea is reincarnated.”

“What?”

“Like, she lived another life in another time,” I explained, feeling stupider by the second.

“That’s crazy,” Steven said. He snorted. “Everyone knows that’s bullshit.”

“I know,” I said quickly, suddenly worried that Steven would lump me into Monica’s newfound lunacy. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Well, what exactly did she say? And why does she care about my sister?”

I blushed. I certainly wasn’t going to tell him that.

“I don’t really know,” I lied. “She was just really on this bender about Andrea, and how Andrea is crazy and needs to be locked up or something.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “My sister definitely isn’t crazy,” he said slowly.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. “Yeah, of course not,” I agreed. “It’s not really about her, though. It’s Monica I’m worried about. Like, why the fuck does she care about this all of a sudden?”

Steven sighed. “Look, I know she’s your best friend,” he said slowly, “but she’s always been kind of weird, you know? It’s probably because of her parents.” He rolled his eyes. “They’re total idiots.”

“They’re not idiots,” I replied. “They’re just kind of unconventional.”

“Whatever,” Steven said. “My dad says it’s basically the same thing. I mean, why the hell did people like that even choose to have a kid in the first place?”

I frowned. This wasn’t going the way I’d thought – not at all.

“So, is that all that’s bothering you?”

I sighed and bit my lip. “Not really,” I said. “I mean, when I told Monica that she sounded kind of delusional, she got really mad at me and stormed out. And, oh yeah, when she first came over, she totally denied that she’d been in school.”

“Whoa,” Steven said. He lifted a finger to his ear and spun it in circles. “She’s totally losing her mind.”

I slumped down in my chair. “I know,” I said morosely. “I have no idea what to do. It’s not like I could talk to her parents or anyone behind her back, really. She’d be furious with me.”

“Sometimes, being a good friend is hard,” Steven said slowly. “Monica really sounds like she needs help, Elizabeth.”

“Yeah,” I said glumly. “I know.”

---

The next day at school, Monica seemed her usual, serious self. There was no more talk of Andrea being a witch, or anything ludicrous like that. Instead of going to the cafeteria for lunch, I followed Monica to the library because she said she needed to do some research for an upcoming paper. She really seemed truly normal again, and I definitely wasn’t going to bring up our conversation from earlier in the week.

‘Maybe she had kind of an adjustment period,’ I thought as I settled into a chair across the table from Monica, who already had her nose plunged deep in a book about seventeenth-century Americans. ‘Maybe she felt weird about being gone, and she thought lying would distract everyone from asking what really happened.’

“I just want you to know that I’m really glad you’re back,” I whispered, pulling a notebook out of my bag and setting it down on the table. “I missed you.”

Monica looked up and nodded. Her glasses were at the very edge of her nose, and she looked at me over the rims, unsmiling.

“Yeah,” Monica whispered back. “I’m glad, too.”

There was a pause as the librarian shuffled past us, pushing a metal cart loaded with books and DVDs.

“Have you talked to David?”

Monica nodded. She leaned in closer. “We talked on the phone last night,” she said. She sniffed. “He might be coming up this weekend.”

I nodded. “That could be fun,” I said. “Maybe we could all go out and get pizza or something.”

Monica snickered quietly. “Elizabeth, you don’t have treat me with kid gloves,” she said softly. “I know you don’t like him.”

I almost sighed out of pure relief. It felt so good to have my best friend back, especially after all of this craziness.

“Yeah, but I don’t really know him that well yet,” I whispered. “Maybe he’s just shy and we’ll wind up being good friends.”

I thought Monica was going to rebuff me, but she nodded seriously. “I’d like that,” she whispered. “You two are the most important people in my life right now.”

I smiled. “I’m glad.”

Silence fell over us as Monica started scribbling down notes in a blank book, her pen scritching and scratching across the page. I closed my eyes and let my mind wander. Maybe now that things were relatively normal again, everything would be fine. I was still dying to know what had happened to my best friend while she was gone, but I was starting to realize that maybe she’d have to tell me in her own time.

“Monica.”

I jumped and spun around to see Andrea standing there, holding a leather-bound book and hugging it to her chest. She looked even younger than normal; her cheeks were as round as a chipmunk’s, and her eyes were big and vacant.

Monica groaned. “I’m busy right now,” she said. “Whatever this is, can it wait?”

Andrea’s eyes flashed, and she smiled coldly. I felt a sinking feeling wash over me, and suddenly, I wished I hadn’t told Steven anything. ‘Idiot,’ I thought. ‘He probably went home and told Andrea everything! Why the heck did I have to say all of that stuff?!’

“Monica, I’m trying to help you,” Andrea simpered sweetly. I stood up and looked around in alarm, searching for the librarian. But everyone else in the library had vanished. Monica, Andrea, and I were completely alone.

“Well, I’m trying to do research for a paper,” Monica said. She yawned, sounding bored. “And this is a library, remember? No talking.” She smirked at Andrea.

Andrea glared. “I’m here to bless you,” she said. She set the leather-bound book on the table, and I groaned when I realized it was a bible. Closing her eyes, Andrea lifted her hands and held them over Monica’s head.

“I command you, unclean spirit,” Andrea said in a low voice, “to–”

“Hey, enough!” I snapped. I leapt up from my chair and grabbed Andrea’s hands, pulling her away from Monica. “Look, we’re busy, okay?” I forced a smile. “Whatever this is, it’s not a good idea right now.”

“Oh, please,” Andrea said. She rolled her eyes and yanked her hand free with surprising strength. “Elizabeth, you’re just as wicked as Monica! You should be begging me to bless you!”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, god,” I said dramatically. “What does that even mean?”

Monica was glaring at Andrea with intense hatred in her brown eyes. “Andrea, leave,” Monica said darkly. “You’re not wanted here.” She raised her eyebrows, smirking.

“Hush, evil one!” Andrea said. She lifted her hands and closed her eyes. “I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, along with all your minions now attacking this servant of God, by the mysteries of the incarnation, passion, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the descent of the Holy Spirit, by the coming of our Lord for judgment–”

Suddenly, Andrea’s eyes flew open, and her lips clamped together. A strange noise emerged from her mouth, almost like she was struggling to talk. Her body began to shake, and she lifted her hands to her mouth. When I realized she was trying to pull her lips open, I gasped.

“Monica, what the fuck?” I hissed. “What the hell is going on?”

Monica didn’t reply. She sat stiff and tall, staring at Andrea. Her brown eyes were lit with intensity, almost like a light was shining through them. She jerked her head to the side, and I gasped as Andrea’s body was flung through the air like a rag doll. Andrea finally cried out, gasping and screaming as she slammed into the painted cinderblock wall. A sickening crack filled the air, and then Andrea crumpled to the ground.

“Oh, my god!” I ran to Andrea’s prone figure and knelt down. Her eyes were glassy slits, and she was moaning through her mouth. I put my hand to her forehead. She felt cold and clammy.

“My leg,” Andrea whimpered. Tears came to her eyes, and she blinked, spilling them down her chubby cheeks. “It hurts!”

A wave of fear struck my heart as I looked down at Andrea’s limp body. Her left leg was sticking out at an odd angle.

“Monica!” I yelled. “You’d better call 9-1-1!”

But when I glanced around, Monica was leaning over her book, once again absorbed in taking notes.

Chapter Three

I was nervous as I sat in the waiting room of Manchester General Hospital, waiting for news – any news – on Andrea’s condition. After she’d fallen, everything seemed to happen in a blur. I grabbed my cell phone and ran out of the school, trying to get reception. But by the time I got on the phone with a 9-1-1 operator, the police had already been called. Soon, the school was swarmed with cop cars, ambulances, even a fire truck with the siren blaring.

Monica had refused to come with me to the hospital. “I have to get home and start writing this,” she’d said, sniffing and holding her chin high in the air. “I missed a lot of work when I wasn’t in school, and it’s not like I can let my grades slip.”

Her reaction hadn’t exactly surprised me, but I couldn’t help feeling a little sad. It was strange. I didn’t really like Andrea, especially not after how I’d seen her act around Steven, but I felt like all people deserved a basic level of compassion after getting hurt so badly. Especially, because I still wasn’t sure how it had all happened. When I thought about it, everything seemed like a blur. I could close my eyes and try to envision Andrea flying through the air, but it seemed impossible – like my mind was playing tricks on me. I knew it was impossible: people didn’t fly.

But then what the hell had happened?

Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico were in the waiting room, too, with Steven and a handful of relatives I’d never met. I was surprised that more kids from school hadn’t shown up. A couple of years before, I’d been in a minor car accident with my mom and I’d needed four stiches. I’d been shocked that practically everyone from school had shown up to see me, even though I’d never been popular. I remember thinking at the time that everything was about to change. Surely, when I went back to school, I’d have loads of new friends.

But nothing changed. People forgot, and time went on, and I stayed as unpopular as ever.

So, it shocked me then that no one was there to see Andrea, especially considering the mysterious circumstances of her accident. After the ambulance had taken her away, the principal had called Monica and me into his office and asked us questions. But Monica hadn’t been much help, and obviously, I wasn’t either. It was weird. Why had Andrea fallen like that? She landed at least ten feet away from where we’d all been standing.

It was all very strange to consider.

After an hour of waiting, a doctor poked his head into the waiting room and called for Andrea’s parents. They went in to see her, white-faced and tight-lipped, without even acknowledging me.

An older woman wearing a crocheted sweater and a large, wooden crucifix scooted close to me and smiled benignly.

“Are you one of Andrea’s little friends from school?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “We’re in the same grade.”

“How sweet that you came to see her,” the woman said, beaming. “I’m her Aunt Claire.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said warily.

“What’s your name?”

A flash of panic went through me. Obviously, this woman had no idea who I was, but she was nosy enough to keep prying. I felt embarrassed to admit it, but I didn’t want her to know that I’d been in the room when Andrea had gotten hurt.

Thankfully, at that moment, Mrs. D’Amico called for me.

“Sorry,” I lied, jumping up from the uncomfortably hard, plastic bucket seat and racing into the hall.

“She’s very heavily sedated,” Mrs. D’Amico told me. Her forehead was creased with worry. “I think you can go in, but just for a few minutes.”

“Thanks,” I said nervously. As quietly as I could, I slipped into the hospital room and shut the door behind me. I could hear Mr. and Mrs. D’Amico whispering in the hall, and I prayed under my breath that Andrea would stay calm.

Andrea looked terrible. Her leg was up in traction and there was a bulky, pink cast stretching from her hip to her foot. Her face was pale, and her hair clung to her forehead in greasy strands. When she saw me, she narrowed her eyes.

“Andrea, I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry,” I said quickly. “I won’t stay long, but I wanted you to know that I feel really bad.”

Andrea sniffed. Under the florescent lighting of the hospital, she looked almost green.

“Get out, Elizabeth,” Andrea said quietly. “I don’t want to see you right now.”

“Just hear me out,” I begged. “Andrea, Monica’s really, really sorry. She never wanted anything like this to happen, and it’s not like she caused it–”

“Get out!” Andrea shrieked. Her voice was so loud that it pierced my eardrums. She glared at me, narrowing her eyes and crying out. “Get out! Get out!” Andrea’s rage dissolved into a fit of sobs, and after just a second, she was crying so hard that I could tell she was having trouble breathing. My heart was beating a rapid staccato in my chest, and my hand was shaking as I reached for the box of tissues at her bedside table.

“Andrea, please,” I begged. “You have to know sorry we are, both of us–”

“Shut up!” Andrea screeched. “Get out!”

The door opened, and Mrs. D’Amico gazed at her daughter and then at me with clear alarm. She grabbed my shoulder and yanked me into the hall.

“What did you say to her?” Mrs. D’Amico demanded. “What the H is going on, Elizabeth?”

Angrily, I pulled free of her grip and ran down the hall until my lungs ached. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t think. My mind was spinning, and I had absolutely no idea what to do. Fear and anger welled up inside of me, and I stood for a moment, panting and resting with my hand against the hospital doors.

I had to find out what was really going on.

I had to go talk to Monica.

On the bus home from Manchester, my mind was swirling and reeling. I tried calling Monica to ask if she was home, but she didn’t answer. For the first time that day, I felt a flash of anger toward my friend. ‘She’s being a coward,’ I thought. ‘She should’ve come with me to the hospital, and she knows it. She knows it!’ And yet, at the same time, I couldn’t explain it. I knew rationally that Monica couldn’t have had anything to do with Andrea breaking her leg. I never saw Monica even lift a finger toward Andrea, and besides, someone as small as Monica couldn’t have even thrown a baseball ten feet, let alone another teenager.

Andrea had broken her leg in two places, and the doctor had mentioned that she was going to be in a cast for months. I shuddered when I thought about her lying helpless and small in that dull hospital room. I hadn’t felt very warm toward Andrea since the séance incident, but I couldn’t help but pity her now. It wasn’t her fault that she was so…devout. And sooner or later, Monica was going to have to apologize.

The confusion was killing me.

By the time I got back to Jaffrey, it was dark and cold. I ran all the way from the bus stop to Monica’s house on the outskirts of town. The lights were on and music was blaring loudly from the living room. I had to knock three times before the door opened.

Jamie was standing there in a casual sweater and jeans. She smiled when she saw me, and I couldn’t help flinching.

“Hi,” I said quickly. “I really need to talk to Monica.”

“Come in, Elizabeth,” Jamie said. She opened the door widely and smiled. “You hungry?”

My stomach felt like a toothpaste tube squeezed empty, but I knew that if I even smelled food, I was likely to throw up. I shook my head.

“No, thanks,” I told her. “Is Monica here?”

Jamie didn’t reply. “Brian and I were in the dining room,” she said. “Come talk to us. We haven’t seen you around in a while.”

I nodded. ‘Yeah,’ I thought as I walked slowly behind Jamie into the bright house, ‘because your daughter vanished, and you didn’t even give a fuck.’

Brian was sitting at the dining room table, papers spread out in front of him. He had that exact same intense look that Monica had worn that afternoon in the library. He didn’t even glance up when he saw me. It wasn’t until I’d sat down across from him that he finally seemed to acknowledge my presence.

“Hey, Elizabeth,” Brian said. He smiled easily. “Haven’t seen you in a while. Thought you might be jealous of that boyfriend, or something.” He laughed.

Jamie joined in, and I forced an awkward smile as Monica’s parents hooted with laughter.

“Uh, yeah,” I said quickly. “I mean, no, I’m not jealous of David.”

“When Jamie and I got together, her sister acted like a real banshee,” Brian said. He smirked. “Remember that, hon?”

“She was jealous,” Jamie said. She nodded. “Probably because she wasn’t used to anyone getting attention but herself,” she added. “Elizabeth, I wouldn’t worry. I know Monica isn’t really serious about that boy.”

I smiled tightly and swallowed. “Right,” I said. “Look, I really need to talk to Monica. Is she home?”

Jamie and Brian glanced at each other and shrugged. “Not that I know of,” Jamie said. “Did you try calling her?”

My heart sank. I didn’t want to think the worst, but I couldn’t help feeling like it was the weekend after the party all over again. Just what exactly was going on here?

“Can I look upstairs?”

Jamie laughed. “Sure,” she said. “But Elizabeth, I really don’t think she’s here. She told me she was going out for a while.”

I slumped. “Do you know if she’s with David?”

Jamie laughed again. “Elizabeth, if I tried keeping up with Monica’s schedule, I’d completely lose my mind. You know her.”

I squinted. “I don’t even know what that means,” I said dumbly.

“I’m sure she’ll be back soon,” Brian said. “She told me she has plans this weekend.”

I sighed. “Did…did she mention anything about today? Like, at school?”

“No,” Jamie said. She looked interested for the first time since I’d gotten there. “Why? What happened?”

I sighed. “I don’t really know,” I said slowly. “We were in the library, and Andrea came in–”

“That D’Amico girl?” Jamie narrowed her eyes. “The one who flipped out last year after that silly little thing?”

I nodded miserably. “Yeah,” I said. “Anyway, she came in to talk to Monica and um, something happened. I don’t really know what, but Andrea got hurt. She’s in the hospital in Manchester. Her leg is broken in two places.”

Jamie’s eyes widened. “You’re not saying Monica had anything to do with that, are you?”

I shook my head quickly. “No,” I said. “I just wanted to talk to her, that’s all. She kind of ran off after we finished talking to the principal.”

“Is Monica in trouble at school, Elizabeth?” Brian glanced up from his work, looking almost exactly like Monica when she eyed me over the rims of her glasses.

“No,” I said quickly. “I mean, at least as far as I know. She’s fine. I just really want to talk to her, that’s all.”

Jamie shrugged. “She probably feels terrible,” she said. “I mean, what a bad accident to happen to that girl,” she added. “But I know Monica didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“I’m not saying she did,” I replied. “I just think it’s…I don’t know, odd. That’s all.”

Jamie shrugged. “You kids all have so much energy,” she said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was some kind of psychic poltergeist thing.”

I narrowed my eyes, but Brian laughed.

“Elizabeth, here you go. That’s some real seventies psychology,” he said. He snickered. “My wife, the counselor.”

I stood up and shifted my weight from one foot to the other. “I’m gonna go,” I said. “Could you tell Monica to call me back when she gets home?”

But Jamie and Brian weren’t even listening; they were sharing some anecdote from their days back in college, about poltergeists and teenagers. I rolled my eyes and slunk out of their dining room, feeling more unsatisfied than ever.

When I left Monica’s, I had no idea where to go. I wandered aimlessly for over an hour before I realized the D’Amicos were likely still at the hospital. ‘I should go to talk to Steven,’ I thought, my stomach churning with anxiety. ‘Maybe he can at least tell me what he said to Andrea.’

I was still winded from running so much earlier, but it felt like the walk over to Steven’s house took no time at all. When I got there, I was almost disappointed when he opened the door. Then I realized that it was just because I was worried that he was angry with me.

But Steven didn’t look angry – just nervous. He leaned down and kissed my cheek, sending a small thrill down my spine. It felt inappropriate at a time like this, but I was glad that he was showing me affection.

“Hey,” I said.

“What’s up?” Steven nodded for me to follow him inside. Together, we sat in the D’Amicos’ living room, and Steven brought us bottles of cherry-flavored sparkling water from the fridge.

“My mom drinks this stuff all the time,” he said, unscrewing the cap and downing nearly the whole bottle in one go. “I used to hate it, but it’s kind of growing on me.”

I could tell he was nervous. Steven usually didn’t like to waste time with small talk.

“I went to see Andrea in the hospital,” I said. I bit my lip and looked down at my lap. “I want to apologize for Monica, but Andrea didn’t really want to see me.”

Steven nodded. “Look, Elizabeth … what exactly happened in the library? My sister isn’t an old woman, it’s not like she’s just randomly going to fall down and break her hip.”

I sighed and recounted the events again. Even though I’d only told a few people what happened, it seemed like I’d been repeating the story for ages.

“That’s crazy,” Steven said.

I nodded. “It really is,” I said quietly. “I have no idea what happened. It was like, something just picked Andrea up and threw her across the room.”

“And you know for sure it wasn’t Monica?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Are you kidding? She weighs like, eighty pounds soaking wet. Andrea’s heavier than she is. There’s no way Monica could have even lifted someone like that, much less threw them across the room.” I sighed. I couldn’t lie. The fact that Steven was accusing me of lying about Monica stung.

“No, that’s not exactly what I mean,” Steven said slowly. An odd look came over his face. “Elizabeth, I know this sounds crazy…but what if Monica was right?”

My stomach twisted into a mess of knots. “About what?” I asked.

Steven sighed. His cheeks burned pink, and he ran a hand through his messy blond hair. “This sounds so dumb,” he said after a long pause. “I can’t even say it out loud.”

“Come on,” I said. “You started it – you have to tell me now. What’s going on?”

Steven looked incredibly uncomfortable. “I mean, about witches,” he said slowly. “Or like, about reincarnation.”

I stared at him in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

Steven held his hands up in the air. “Look, I know it sounds totally crazy,” he said. “And I promise, I’m not losing my mind. But I started thinking the other night, like, what if something is controlling Monica?”

“Controlling her and making her do what?” I asked, even though I was worried I already knew the answer. My heart was thudding, and a strange feeling came over me. I couldn’t believe that Steven and I were seriously having a conversation about whether or not my best friend was a witch.

“You know,” Steven said. He gestured in the air, then took a long swig of sparkling water. “Like, making her act out. Making her disappear. Giving her … I don’t know, giving her powers.”

I stared blankly at Steven. “It sounds completely insane,” I said. “And I don’t believe it. There’s no way anything supernatural is going on here, Steven.” I rolled my eyes. “You sound like Monica right before the party. She wouldn’t shut up about that stupid livestock thing.”

Steven looked offended. “Yeah,” he said. “But then right after the party, she disappeared for the first time. And that’s when all this weird shit started going on.” He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I don’t know, Elizabeth. It just seems too weird to ignore.”

I frowned. “It is weird,” I said. “But there has to be some kind of rational explanation, right?”

“Or not,” Steven said. He leaned against the couch and crossed his arms. “I know you probably think I’m losing my mind. But I’m really starting to believe it,” he said. “What do you think?”

I frowned. I thought a lot of things. One of them was that Steven was probably crazy. But as stupid as it sounds, I was afraid to disagree with him. I was afraid to speak up, afraid that he’d suddenly decide he didn’t want anything to do with me.

“I don’t know,” I said softly. “I don’t know what I think anymore.”

Chapter Four

Monica

I knew something was wrong before I even opened my eyes. The earthy scent of rotten leaves and pine needles filled my nose, and my heart was beating a slow rhythm in my chest.

I groaned. Somehow, I didn’t even need to look around to know where I was.

“Monica.” Henrik’s voice was stern and deep. I opened my eyes to see him sitting next to my cot, scribbling in a leather-bound book.

I sat up, hugging my knees to my chest and letting my shoulders slump in defeat. “Why did you bring me here?”

Henrik glared at me. The lines on his face seemed more prominent, and his wild shock of white hair was tied at the nape of his neck with a leather thong. Instead of everyday robes, he wore a loose-fitting tunic of some woven material with a pair of creased linen trousers. I almost laughed. He looked like one of the old hippies that my parents knew.

“Do not force me to tell you,” Henrik said sternly. “You know exactly why I’ve brought you here, Monica.”

I shivered and pulled the thin blanket around me. “It was an accident,” I said blankly. “I never meant to hurt her.”

Henrik groaned. “Come,” he ordered. “You are to stay here with us until you’ve learned to control yourself like an adult.” He stood up, rubbed his lower back, then turned on his heel and lumbered out of the small cottage.

Despite my unhappiness at being spirited away to the coven, I couldn’t deny how beautiful the woods looked. It was late fall, and I should have been cold. Aside from the blanket around my shoulders, I was wearing a thin sweater and jeans. But I was smart enough by now, to know that Henrik and Ligeia controlled every aspect of their environment. I might as well have been in a laboratory, with electrodes at my temples and wearing a paper gown. Sometimes the whole ‘embrace nature’ thing seemed like a gimmick that Henrik used to bring in new members.

“You’re awfully argumentative today,” Henrik observed slyly as we walked together through the crisp woods.

I rolled my eyes. “Stop,” I said, shaking my head. I tapped my temple with my pointer finger. “I don’t want you in here. Not today.”

Henrik grabbed me by the shoulders. His eyes were filled with anger.

“This is not a joke,” Henrik hissed.

“I never said it was.” I yanked myself free and crossed my arms over my chest. “I told you, it was an accident!”

Henrik shook his head in obvious disgust. “You will be the ruin of everything I have built,” he said bitterly.

I narrowed my eyes. “That’s a bit much,” I said dryly. “You’re acting like I caused some giant, Earth-shattering event.”

Henrik whistled once, so low that the hair on the back of my neck stood up. Seconds later, Ligeia appeared. Her long hair was bound in an elegant braid, and she wore the same shapeless garments as Henrik. She glared at me.

“Monica, what were you thinking?” Ligeia demanded. “You need to be more careful!”

“You’re acting like she wasn’t provoking me,” I said, glaring at both Ligeia and Henrik. “Come on. She tried to do, like, a fucking exorcism on me! In the middle of the library! At my school,” I added for emphasis. “What was I supposed to do, just sit there and let her?”

Ligeia exhaled forcefully. “Take this,” she said. She passed me an earthenware mug filled with a steaming, foul-smelling liquid.

“What is it?”

“You don’t get to ask questions right now,” Henrik snapped. “As I said, you will remain with us until you’ve learned how to control your impulses. Now that Prudence has sensed you, she isn’t going to relent. She will keep attacking. You cannot allow yourself to lash out again.”

I bit my lip and sniffed at the liquid suspiciously before downing it all in one gulp. It was bitter and hot, and it burned my throat all the way down. I choked and sputtered, leaning against a tree until the rough bark made my skin throb in pain.

“What the hell was that?” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “What are you doing to me?”

Ligeia and Henrik exchanged a glance.

“Just some herbs,” Ligeia said. She smiled calmly. “Hallucinogenic herbs. You’ll be taking them daily and working with the others on controlling your impulses.”

My stomach twisted painfully, and I cried out, retching and gagging. I was sure the liquid was going to come rushing back up my throat, hot and vile, but nothing happened. After a few seconds, I felt a strange, heavy calm descend over my limbs. It felt like I’d just crawled into bed and pulled the covers over my body.

“Come,” Ligeia said. She nodded her head to the side. I followed her. My movements were jerky and strange, like a doll, but I couldn’t stop. The nausea returned, and my mouth felt unbearably dry. After a few seconds, I was aware of everything in my body pulsing and twitching and moving together. My organs, full of blood and bile, shifted wetly together, squished inside my abdomen, protected by a cage of bone and fat. My stomach sloshed from side to side, filled with spit, and bile, and that hideous, liquid tea. I even felt the spongy tissue of my lungs breathing in shallow, jerky breaths. Suddenly, I wanted very much to stop thinking.

“You have to be aware of yourself at all times,” Ligeia said softly. She took my hand. “Do not be afraid, Monica. This is a procedure you must learn to accommodate.”

“It’s uncomfortable,” I said stiffly. My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach lurched. My center of gravity shifted, and, for a moment, the world around me plunged into a terrifying warp speed. Trees, and sky, and dead leaves spun round and round, faster and faster, until I felt rooted to the spot by an unearthly, centrifugal force.

“You can feel the Earth move,” Ligeia said. “Don’t fight it, Monica. Embrace this; embrace this and learn.”

I moaned lowly as Ligeia guided me to a clearing in the woods. Large, flat rocks were placed in a circle. This time, I needed no instruction. I walked unsteadily toward the rocks, lowering myself onto one at the center.

Sitting, the vertigo was almost worse. I kept my eyes wide open, unable to look away from the swirling blend of green, and blue, and brown all around me. My skin stretched and expanded with every breath, and I shuddered with the realization that my skin was the only thing keeping my body together. Instantly, I pictured myself melting onto the dirty ground, organs seeping out of my pores with blood, and sweat, and piss. I shuddered.

“Do not be afraid,” Ligeia said softly. She lowered herself down next to me. When I looked at her, the world stopped spinning. Her blue eyes seemed to be the center of the universe, her lined, worldly face, the face that guided the sun and the moon.

“I…” I trailed off, unable to compose my own thoughts into words.

Ligeia pressed my hand. “Just breathe,” she said softly. “Breathe in, and the world breathes with you.”

Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Then I felt it – the powerful air sucking into the sponges of my lungs, the stretched feeling in my chest when I was filled with oxygen. I felt my blood revitalizing and turning from blue to red with the infusion of air. I felt my whole body lift and sink with each breath until I was riding on a tide of highs and lows, all connected. There was no place where my body stopped and the Earth began. And with each breath, I grew more confident still.

“There,” Ligeia said. Her voice was low and filled with approval. “You are beginning to understand, Monica.”

I stayed with the coven for a week, drinking that noxious tea and training myself to become one with the Earth. The hangovers each morning were awful. Instead of feeling like one with the universe, I felt like a disgusting creature that needed to be put out of its misery. But Ligeia assured me the feeling would pass, and after a few hours, it did. Still, I looked forward to the day when Henrik would approve of my going home.

It didn’t take long. After seven days of hallucinations and seven nights of agonizing, sweat-filled sleep, Henrik came to me.

“You may depart us,” Henrik said. “But do not think we will turn a blind eye, Monica.” His eyes stared at me with heady disapproval. “I am proud at the work you have accomplished in such a short time. But in no way should you take that to mean that you are free from making the same mistakes again.”

I leaned over and vomited hot bile onto the grass, sputtering and wiping at my mouth.

Henrik waited patiently for me to finish. “You have a new handle on yourself,” he said. “And we expect you to keep control of that at all times.”

I shrugged, trying to play off how sick I felt. I was so exhausted and tired. I couldn’t wait to get home, take a long shower, and collapse into bed.

“I’ll try harder,” I said weakly. “That’s all I can do.”

Henrik smiled, but he still looked serious. “Yes,” he said heavily. “This is a tense time for our worlds, Monica. We cannot have you fail.”

I swallowed, grimacing at the taste in my mouth. “I know,” I said. “Trust me. I know.”

---

The next morning when I woke up, I was so happy to be home that I could’ve cried. My sheets smelled like fresh laundry and dirty hair, and I sighed, pulling the covers around me. The air in my bedroom felt cold, and I frowned when I realized the window was open.

I shivered as I climbed out of bed and pulled on a robe. When I got to the window, I gasped. A solid foot of snow was blanketing the ground, and icicles hung from every surface. ‘This is weird,’ I thought, closing the window and blowing on my frozen fingers. ‘It normally doesn’t snow until December.’

Downstairs, Jamie and Brian were cooking breakfast. Neither one of my parents seemed surprised to see me. I can’t say that I expected otherwise, but it still stung.

“Oh, hi there,” Jamie said. She passed me a plate of bacon without even looking at me. “Long trip, huh?”

I stared at her. “Yeah…” I trailed off, biting my lip. “Um, did I tell you guys where I was going?”

Jamie smiled indulgently. “Honey, you know you don’t have to do that! We trust each other in this family,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes. “How long was I gone?”

Jamie shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. She frowned, ticking her fingers. “A few weeks? Maybe a month or two?”

My jaw dropped. “What day is it?”

“It’s the twentieth.”

“Of September?”

Jamie laughed. “Honey, no. It’s December!” She laughed. “I think you and David smoked a little too much reefer!”

I sank against the back of my chair. I couldn’t believe it. Over a month had passed since I’d last been home! I shivered again, wrapping my arms around my body and hugging myself tightly. What the hell was going on?

Brian sat down next to me with a steaming mug of coffee. Even though the scent was totally different, I couldn’t shake my association with the hallucinogenic tea, and I coughed, trying to squash the urge to vomit.

Brian chuckled. “Bad hangover, huh? Coffee always helped me,” he said calmly.

I licked my dry lips. “So, Mom said I’d been gone for over a month,” I said slowly.

Brian looked perplexed for a moment, then nodded. “Yep,” he said slowly. “That sounds about right.”

“And you guys didn’t care that I was gone? You didn’t go around asking anyone what had happened to me?”

Jamie turned to me with a perplexed look on her face. “Sweetie, why would we do that? We trust you,” she repeated, emphasizing the word. Her eyes were glazed. “We trust you,” she said again, in a strangely toneless voice.

“That’s right,” Brian repeated. His voice sounded hollow. His eyes had the same blank, vacant look as my mother’s.

Tears came to my eyes, and I nodded quickly, pushing away from the table and running out of the room. My appetite was no longer there, the realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

Jamie and Brian weren’t just typical hippie parents.

Henrik had been controlling them.

The entire time.

Chapter Five

Elizabeth

I was running through a dark wood, stumbling and shrieking with fright each time a branch lashed at my face. My heart raced and my breath was coming in shallow pants, but I couldn’t stop. I felt compelled to keep going, like there was something urging me on from behind, something I couldn’t seem to shake no matter how fast I plunged on.

The darkness was overwhelming. I’d never seen woods like this before in my life. The trees were thick and black and so dense that I had to run with my arms above my head just so I wouldn’t stumble and fall.

“Ahh!” I screamed as my foot caught on a branch and I went sprawling to the ground. I hit with much more impact than necessary, scraping my knees and the palms of my hands on twigs and rocks. Pain shot through my body, but I could already feel myself getting back to my feet and running on.

My feet carried me faster and faster through the woods until finally I stumbled into a clearing. A pale, unearthly light shown over the ground, and I glanced up to see the moon, large and sunken in the sky. I gasped. The moon looked much larger than it should, almost like the Earth had somehow moved closer.

The clearing was covered with large, flat rocks arranged in a circle. My breath caught in my throat as a strange chanting reached my ears. The hair on the back of my neck stood straight up, and goosebumps broke out over my skin as the chanting grew nearer and nearer. I shivered, rooted to the spot. No matter how I tried, I couldn’t move.

A slow-moving line of people began to fill the clearing. Their chanting was atonal and alarming. It filled my senses with a strange feeling of dread as the people moved around me, swaying back and forth and walking slowly, almost as if they were drugged. I swallowed uncomfortably as the people moved around me, almost as if they didn’t see me standing there.

I tried to reach out and grab the sleeve of the nearest person, but they dodged away.

“Hey,” I said sharply. “What is this? What am I doing here?”

My question went ignored. The chanting grew louder, and the people all lifted their hands in unison to the moon, swaying and dancing in an eerie rhythm. A loud crack of thunder filled the air, and the chanting suddenly stopped. Everyone lifted their hands to their robes and pushed the hoods back, revealing a diverse group of old and young. They were all clothed in long, black robes, aside from one woman. She looked ancient; long white hair spilled over her shoulders, and her blue eyes shone with purpose.

“You have come,” the woman said. She was staring directly at me.

I froze. “What…what’s going on?”

The woman ignored my question. I turned around to see if she was speaking to someone else, but the woods had closed up behind me like a great vacuum.

“You are here to join us,” the woman said. She wasn’t smiling. She began to hum, and soon, the others resumed chanting. They moved in slow, jagged circles around the rocks and each other, anonymous and creepy.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I shrieked. A cold chill ran through my veins, and I shivered. Suddenly, I felt my stomach twist and cramp with painful nausea. As I dropped to my knees, the chanting grew louder. I cried out in pain and opened my mouth to see a steady torrent of blood gushing from my throat. It spilled onto the ground, soaking into the dark soil and spreading around me in a wide circle. To my horror, I found that I couldn’t stop. Soon, I felt my body growing weak with the effort. The blood was pouring from me at an alarming rate, and I began to feel dizzy.

The strange woman raised her voice and screamed – a blood-curdling scream. Soon, the others began to shriek and wail, tearing at their robes.

“Help me,” I choked, spewing blood. “Help me! I can’t breathe! Someone, help!”

The screaming only grew louder, and then I fell to the ground, exhausted.

“Augh!”

I sat up in bed, my heart racing. Immediately, I began pawing at my face and chest, half-expecting to feel wet, sticky blood. But there was nothing on my skin, save for a fine sheen of sweat that had broken out in my dream. My room was dark, and the clock on my bedside table flashed three in the morning, on the dot.

As I lay back down in bed, I knew I was done with sleep for the night.

In the morning, I told Mom I was sick. It didn’t take much convincing as she looked at me and nodded.

“Stay home today,” Mom said. Behind her, I heard the whining of my younger brother, Aidan. To Aidan, Mom said, “Shush. Your older sister’s going through a lot of stuff.”

I swallowed nervously. “Are you going to stay home, too?”

Mom narrowed her eyes at me. “Elizabeth, are you okay?” She came closer, putting her hand to my forehead.

“Yeah,” I lied.

“You haven’t asked me to stay home with you in years,” Mom said. I heard the catch in her voice. “You’re growing up so fast, Elizabeth. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah,” I said weakly. “Just a bad night. I’ll be okay when I get some sleep.”

Mom nodded. “Okay, honey,” she said. She sighed. “Just call me if you need anything, okay?”

I nodded again, pulling the covers up to my chin and closing my eyes. My mom was barely out of my room by the time I fell asleep again. This time, I fell into a deep, dreamless slumber that lasted for hours. When I woke up again, it was early afternoon. The snow from the week before still hadn’t melted, and I felt the chill creeping through the thin walls of our house.

Shivering, I climbed out of bed and got into a shower so hot it burned my scalp. I didn’t care. I wanted to scrub the memory of that creepy dream from my mind. It had seemed so real, almost more like a vision than a dream.

I stayed in the shower until the hot water was gone, then got dressed and curled up in bed with my computer. I felt stupid Googling ‘witches,’ especially when the first dozen or so results were for so-called ‘magic shops’ and tarot cards. I shuddered again. The witches in my dream hadn’t been anything like the hippie women who worked at the herbal store in town. They’d obviously had some kind of dark purpose.

Just as I was about to give up, I saw a small, purple link at the bottom of a site on local New Hampshire history. Just reading the words ‘The Coven’ sent shivers crawling down my spine. I hesitated for a few seconds before clicking. Just what exactly was I doing, anyway? Witches weren’t real. They’d never been real. It had all been paranoia, a response to the religious fervor of the times.

‘You’re being stupid,’ I told myself. ‘Just read the damn page.’

With a lump in my throat, I waited for the text to load. It was one of those older sites, with animated font and old clip art moving from the top of the page to the bottom. I laughed out loud – it looked exactly like a site that my dad had built for my mom back when I was a little kid.

But when my eyes focused on the text, I felt a new shiver of fear.

“New England is home to a rich history of witchcraft. Despite the notoriety of the Salem Witch Trials in the late seventeenth-century, magical activity has yet to cease. In fact, many families in the Jaffrey area are descended from powerful, magical beings. Some even believe in reincarnation – the idea that a soul can live throughout the ages, in different bodies, in different lifetimes.”

I shivered as I read on. ‘This is so dumb,’ I thought with a sigh. ‘I’m home alone, and I’m freaking myself out for no reason. I need to get a freaking life.’

When I looked down at the page again, my mouth went dry. There at the bottom was a painting, identical to the one David had shown me in that old book. Monica, or someone who looked almost exactly like her, was standing in the middle of a circle of witches, smiling serenely as they moved around her.

Breathing hard, I slammed my laptop shut and reached for my phone. I still wasn’t ready to believe that witches existed. But there was definitely something going on, and I was finally willing to admit to myself that it didn’t seem entirely rational.

I texted Steven, asking if I could meet up with him after school. He took a long time to get back to me. By the time he replied, school was about to end. I got dressed in jeans and a heavy sweater, then raced over to the D’Amicos’ house.

Mrs. D’Amico let me in. She gave me a tight smile, and I felt another wave of guilt wash over me. I hadn’t seen her since that day at the hospital. Whenever Steven and I had gotten together since then, we’d gone out. I still felt really uncomfortable in the D’Amico house, but my need to talk to Steven was greater than my need to keep my head down – at least, for now.

Andrea was sitting in the living room, bundled up like an invalid. She’d been out of the hospital for a few weeks, but she was still in a cast from her waist to her foot. Despite this, she didn’t look unhappy. In fact, she looked calm, almost serene.

“Hi,” I said nervously, sitting on the other end of the couch. “How are you, Andrea?”

Andrea gave me a pinched smile. “I’m fine,” she said. “The tutor that’s been coming has been better than going to actual school.” She laughed, but it wasn’t a happy sound. “I keep telling Mom that I don’t want to go back when my leg is healed.”

‘Please, God, let her stay homeschooled,’ I thought, wondering if that would improve things with Monica. Monica had been gone again – for over a month this time – and I couldn’t shake the feeling that Andrea knew something about her disappearance.

Thankfully, Steven came rushing into the room just as Andrea was about to ask me something else. When he saw me, he raised his eyebrows.

“Hey,” Steven said shortly. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” I lied. “I was hoping we could go somewhere, you know, maybe just for a drive.”

Steven looked uncomfortable. “I really shouldn’t leave right now,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder at Andrea. “Mom’s going out to the store.”

Andrea gave me a martyr-like smile. “Steven takes such good care of me,” she said. “Steven, would you mind bringing me a glass of water?”

“Can I have one, too?” I interjected.

“Sure,” Steven said. He darted into the kitchen and came back a few seconds later, holding a glass of ice water. He held it out to Andrea in a very tender way, almost like he was afraid she would break. “Here you go,” Steven said. “Tell me if there’s too much ice in that for you.”

I frowned. “Can I have one, too?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steven said. He jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Glasses are in the second cabinet to the left of the fridge.”

I frowned. Steven and Andrea talked in hushed voices while I was in the kitchen. I knew it was wrong to feel so irritated, but I couldn’t help it – why was he waiting on her like this? Couldn’t she sit on the couch for forty-five fucking minutes while their mom went to the store?

When I came back, Andrea was laughing and Steven looked guilty. He reached behind Andrea and fluffed the couch pillows.

“You want a blanket or anything?”

Andrea shook her head. “I’m fine.”

“Heating pad?” Steven suggested. “You cold?”

“I’m fine,” Andrea repeated.

“What about a snack?”

Andrea giggled. “No, thanks,” she said.

I resisted the urge to groan. “Hey, Steven, can I talk to you for a second?”

Steven grinned and turned toward me. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”

I swallowed uncomfortably. “I mean, in the kitchen. You know, just a few minutes of privacy.”
Steven threw Andrea a nervous look. “I don’t know,” he said. “I really hate to leave her alone.”

“She’ll be fine for two minutes,” I said, my voice edged with exasperation.

“Of course, I will,” Andrea said sweetly. She gave Steven a diabolical smile. “Go on, Steven. I’ll be right here.” She laughed again. “I mean, it’s not like I can get up.”

Steven looked genuinely irritated as he followed me into the kitchen.

“What?” Steven asked plainly. “What is so important that you can’t talk to me about it in front of my sister?”

I frowned. “It’s not that,” I said quickly. “It’s just…oh, I don’t know. Some dream I had, about Monica. I’m really worried about her, and what’s happening.”

Steven narrowed his eyes. “Monica is the reason my sister got hurt,” he said defensively. “I don’t really wanna talk about her right now.”

I sighed. “It’s not about that,” I said quickly. “And your sister’s going to be fine,” I added. “She broke her leg. People break their legs. It happens sometimes.”

Steven glared. “What are you saying, exactly?”

I stared at him. ‘I’m saying that I think you have a weird relationship,’ I thought angrily in my head. ‘I’m saying that I still haven’t forgotten that stupid, creepy photo that Andrea texted you!’

I shrugged, feeling lame. “I…I don’t know. I mean, you don’t really have to wait on her all the time, Steven. She’ll be fine.”

Steven shook his head. “I don’t believe you,” he snarled. “I thought you were supportive, Elizabeth. You’re being so selfish right now. I don’t understand. What the heck has gotten into you?”

Tears stung my eyes. I slammed my glass of water down on the counter and turned on my heels, stalking out of the D’Amicos’ house. Just before I shut the door behind me, I heard Andrea calling out in confusion.

‘Fuck you,’ I thought as I stormed back toward my house. ‘I don’t know what you’re doing, but I’m onto you, Andrea, and I’m not gonna let you get away with this.’

---

When I got home, I was shocked to see my parents in the kitchen. Normally, they didn’t get home for hours after work.

“Hey,” I said nervously. “What’s going on?” For a moment, I was terrified that Mom was going to tell me she’d heard from the D’Amicos.

Instead, Mom shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “Your father called me and told me about this…I don’t know. What was it, sweetie?”

My dad cleared his throat. “There’s a town meeting tonight,” he said. “Downtown, at the church.”

I wrinkled my nose. “A town meeting about what?”

“We don’t know, exactly,” Dad said. “We thought you might know. Did something happen at school?”

I shook my head. “I hope not,” I said quickly. “Do you know who’s holding it?”

Dad picked up his phone and scrolled through, looking for something. “The D’Amicos,” he said. “That makes sense. I guess it is their church and all.”

I frowned. “And it doesn’t say anything else?”

Dad shook his head. “No,” he said. “Do you want to go? I can drop you off.”

I sighed. “Not really,” I admitted. “But I kind of think I should. Things have been really weird around here lately.”

Dad nodded. “Okay,” he said. “Come on.”

Dad and I were silent in the car as he drove toward the church. A sense of dread was building up inside of me, and I felt unable to shake it, unable to do anything other than merely sit there and digest everything as it happened.

Dad pulled in front of the church and set the car to park. “Are you okay going in there?”

I frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be? What’s wrong?”

Dad sighed. “I don’t know,” he said. “Just call when you’re ready to come home, and I’ll pick you up, okay?”

I nodded. As I climbed out of the car and walked into the nave of the church, my feeling of dread grew. Soon, I felt numb and shaky and chilled to the bone.

Inside, the church was packed. The pews were filled with all kinds of people from all over town. There was only one family noticeably absent: the Boers.

Andrea was standing behind the pulpit, resting her hands on her crutches. She didn’t look pained or even uncomfortable. She looked joyous, radiant – happier than I’d seen her in years.

“I called this meeting to talk about the state of our town,” Andrea said. Her thin voice carried over the microphone and filled the church.

There was a smattering of applause. As quickly as I could, I slipped into a pew at the back, scooting toward the edge.

“There is evil in our town,” Andrea said. Her voice sounded odd – almost like she was proud of what was happening in Jaffrey.

“Amen!”

“Amen!”

There was a loud, scattered cheering from the audience. Listening to the cheers made the blood in my veins turn to ice.

“There is evil here,” Andrea repeated. She leaned in close and scanned the crowd, turning her face slowly from side to side. There was an odd gleam in her eyes – a gleam that made her appear much older than her childlike face.

“Banish the evil,” someone shouted loudly. “Let us live in peace!”

Andrea sniffed. “There are witches here,” she said softly into the microphone. “There are witches here, tonight, in this town!”

A loud jeering sounded from the audience, and I shivered. Surely, someone was going to stand up and call her out for being so crazy, right? At any moment, I half expected Monica to burst through the doors, yelling about how all of this was complete bullshit.

Instead, to my horror, a group of people stood up and cheered. “Destroy the witches! Burn them! Banish them from our town!”

“We must embrace God,” Andrea thundered into the mic. “We must turn our faces from the evil and back toward the light, back toward the goodness!”

I glanced up and almost gasped when I saw Steven sitting just a few feet behind Andrea at the altar. He shifted and looked vaguely uncomfortable, but nowhere near as uncomfortable as I felt. For the first time, I wondered what exactly it was about Steven that had drawn me in.

“We must fight the evil!” Andrea yelled, her voice rising to a frantic pitch. “We must banish the witches!”

“Kill the witches! Kill the witches!”

Now, the congregation was stomping, clapping, and thumping their hands against the wooden backs of the pews. Sucking in a deep breath, I stood up and raced out of the church.

It was freezing outside, but the chill of the air felt like nothing after being inside that church and listening to Andrea rant like a crazy person. The worst part was, why was everyone humoring her? This was the twenty-first century…what the fuck was going on?

Chapter Six

Monica

As soon as I figured out that Henrik had been manipulating my parents, I packed a bag and ran into the woods. Henrik and Ligeia had told me that whenever I needed the coven, all I had to do was think about them and their energy. But this time, it wasn’t proving so simple. I wandered for hours before I smelled the familiar, tangy scent of the herbs and rushes used by the witches.

Henrik didn’t seem surprised to see me. He was sitting in front of the hearth, poking at something in a large cauldron. It smelled delicious, but I made a vow not to eat or drink anything offered to me by the coven. I was done with them, and I wasn’t going to let myself get sucked back into their ways.

“I know why you are here,” Henrik said. He didn’t glance up from the cauldron, but merely reached closer to stir it.

“Good,” I said. “That means we can get this over with. I’m done.”

Henrik chuckled under his breath. “This is not that simple, Monica. You have obligations. You cannot escape as easily as you think.”

I groaned. “I don’t give a shit,” I said honestly. “I’m never coming back here again. This is too crazy. It’s changing too many things in my life.”

Henrik finally turned to face me, raising one eyebrow. In the light of the fire, he almost looked young.

“You think that we are to blame for all of the upsets in life?” Henrik chuckled.

“Yeah,” I said. I crossed my arms over my chest, suddenly feeling foolish. “I do. Ever since the first time you kidnapped me, things have been completely crazy, and I’m sick of it! I want things to go back to normal.” Tears came to my eyes, and I sniffled. “My parents don’t even care about me because of your stupid spell! They don’t even care when I’m gone for weeks at a time!”

Henrik narrowed his eyes. “It isn’t fair to pin that on me, Monica,” he said calmly. “Your parents have always been like that. I was only able to sway them with the power of suggestion. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I felt like someone had punched me in the gut, but I didn’t dare react.

“It’s true, Monica,” Henrik said. “I wouldn’t be able to change them completely. I’m not that powerful.”

My shoulders sagged, and I closed my eyes, sighing heavily. “I don’t care,” I whispered hotly. “I’m not doing this anymore. I just want my regular life back.”

“You’ve never had a normal life,” Henrik said coldly. “You’ve been destined for this for hundreds of years, Monica. You are the true heir to the coven, and nothing will change that. No amount of anger on your part will reduce your role.”

I glared at him. “I hate this,” I mumbled. “I’m going home, and I’m never coming back here ever again. And if you try to make me, well, fine. Then I guess you might as well kill me.” I grabbed Henrik’s athame from the table and held the blade to my neck. The tip was so sharp I didn’t even feel it slice my skin, but seconds later, warm blood was pooling around my collarbone.

“Go ahead and try,” Henrik said. He shrugged. “You can’t kill yourself, Monica. You’re immortal.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s fucking insane,” I snapped. I gritted my teeth, pressing the knife harder into my skin. No matter how hard I pushed, the blade wouldn’t budge. Groaning in exasperation, I threw the athame to the floor.

“I know you are weary,” Henrik said. “That will not change. But I promise, you will learn to cope better with these stresses.”

“I’m not doing this anymore,” I said. But I could already feel my resolve weakening. I glared at Henrik. ‘Damn you,’ I thought. ‘You may be able to manipulate my parents, but you can’t manipulate me!’