Broken Spell (6 page)

The new school has a weird dynamic. I’m not comfortable with the workload, and even less with the students. At least my handful of friends go there. But classes are different; they don’t even have
pre-calc.

I thought about what Skye told me: that I could still enter college on a scholarship. Maybe it’s too late for that. The mess with changing schools and having a new curriculum left the fate of some of our grades unknown. Besides, I thought I could get letters of recommendation from my Greenwood teachers, but they, like us, are spread across the school district now.

But this morning brings more pressing matters. As I had promised Skye, I go to the doctor. I suffered a concussion during the fire incident, and she insisted I have my head checked out.

Brianna, the Knowing who tried to kill my sister, is in the same hospital, in a coma.

The hospital choice was deliberate: I wanted to see what security the witches have around her.

But when we are still a few blocks away, Skye says, “I’m sensing a couple of Sisters. Slow down.”

I reduce the speed.

“There! Pull over. If we get too close, they’ll sense me too. See? The woman at the outside table at Tully’s? It’s freezing, but there she is. The energy is coming from her.”

“They’re two blocks away from the hospital.”

“Yes. She’s probably a Night Sister. They can’t come any closer because the hospital must be crawling with our Sisters. They need to observe—and sense—from a distance, so they don’t alarm our side.”

I go back to the street and make a left turn far away from the woman at the café. We go two blocks over. Skye identifies another witch there, somewhere on a high floor of an apartment building. We can’t see her, though.

“They have a straight line of sight to the hospital from here. They might have a telescope pointed to the parking lot. And I bet that if we search around the hospital, we’ll find more Night witches around.”

We finally arrive at the hospital. Skye doesn’t go inside for my consultation. She waits in the car. She doesn’t want her magical signature to be picked up by the witches doing the surveillance. A witch—any witch—getting too close would sound alarms. And Skye and I want to keep a low profile.

When I get back to the car, she is anxious. “How are you?”

“I’m fine.” I explain to her the exams the doctor did. I’ve got a clean bill of health.

I get a long kiss as a reward. Skye waits a bit before asking, “And Brianna?”

“I’m still mad at her, Skye, but you don’t need to walk on eggshells. I’m a big boy. I went to her floor. I saw four people with earpieces, looking very much like bodyguards or FBI agents. Two women close to the elevator, another woman by the stairs, and a guy sitting in the ICU waiting area. And one more woman in the lobby.”

“I felt four signatures from here. The one in the lobby and two other people in one of the upper floors are witches. And one somewhere from below.”

It makes sense. “They may have someone staking out the garage. They need to cover all entrances.”

“I’m pretty sure one of the people generating a signature on the high floor is a doctor,” she says.

“A witch doctor?” I smirk.

She slaps my leg playfully. “Some Sisters with
a Healing Charm decide to become doctors. They need one of them to keep an eye on her medical condition. They may have been using Healing potions to help her recover.”

“This is bad news.”

“It is. As long as Brianna is out cold, they have no way of knowing that she’s not the real Singularity. Even if she wakes up, we’d be somewhat safe.”

I turn on the ignition. My brain needs coffee. As I maneuver out of the parking lot, I ask, “Couldn’t they use a Truth potion on her when she wakes up?”

“They could, but they won’t: they know the Singularity has all those natural magical shields and that a potion may not work on her. But the covens won’t wait forever. They will have Sisters with Intellect Charm trying to figure it out. Sooner or later, they’ll conclude that Brianna is not the Singularity.”

“What do we do then?”

Skye just shakes her head. “We’ll figure it out when the time comes.”

***

After I’m properly caffeinated, I drive her to Aunt Gemma’s house. All the worries about Brianna and Mona and Singularities are on the back burner for now. “Up for a movie tonight? We could see the new James Bond. You know, in case you’re homesick.”

“You are silly. Oh, I forgot to tell you. The girls asked me to go out with them tonight.”

“The girls?”

“Greta and Yara.”

“The ‘Weird Sisters’ are ‘the girls’ now?”

“Please don’t call them that.”

“What about Priscilla? Isn’t she one of ‘the girls’?”

“Priscilla is going out with her new boyfriend. I didn’t even tell her.”

I point to me. “Hey. New boyfriend here, too. Don’t I get to go out with my new girlfriend?” I point to her.

“Come on, it was nice of them to ask me. I’m new to school. It’s good to be in touch with my Sisters. Why don’t you go to the movies by yourself?”

I give her a ‘seriously?’ look. “I’ll just hang out with my two best friends: Xbox and pizza.”

“What about Sean and Boulder?”

“It’s no use. They’re ‘hunting’ tonight. You don’t want me with them.”

We arrive at Aunt
Gemma’s. Skye leans over and whispers, “Come here. I’ll give a little something to keep you warm tonight.”

This n
ew boyfriend stops complaining.

***

When I’m getting my pizza from the oven, I hear a car in our driveway. Muffled voices chatter happily. I go to the window to see what’s going on. Mona is waving goodbye to two dudes in an old, light-blue Civic. The car leaves, and Mona saunters to the front door.

I go back to find a pizza cutter and start cutting slices. The front door opens.

“Hey, Mona. Pizza?”

She drops her purse on the sofa and joins me in the kitchen. “Sure. I’m starving.”

“Got a ride home, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” She grabs a diet green tea bottle from the fridge.

“Do I know those guys?”

“How do you know they were guys? Are you spying on me?”

“You’ve never had guys taking you home before.” I hand her a plate with a slice of pizza, but she doesn’t take it from me.

Instead, she keeps staring at me. “Are you a big brother now? Or
the
Big Brother?” She does a booming voice while making her eyes wide.

“It’s just that now you’re, you know…beautiful.”

“Thank you. You don’t need to say it in such an ‘eew’ voice, though.”

I put the plate, still untouched, on the kitchen counter. “You know what I mean. Guys will be after you. Not with the best of intentions.”

“You should know. You lock the door when you’re with Skye. Maybe someone should be concerned about her.”

“Ha-ha. It’s not the same.”

“Is that what’s troubling you? Not me, let’s say, destroying the whole city by accident, but guys giving me a ride?”

“I can be worried about both. I can multitask.”

Mona drinks from the bottle of tea, still sizing me up. “For your information, Drake, I’m not only ‘beautiful’ now. I’m hot. I know. I’ve been told. I’m a size 14 hottie now. Do you know how long I’ve waited to hear that? Do you have any idea what this means to me?”

That’s unexpected. “I clearly don’t.”

She gets another slice of pizza, puts it on her plate, and says, “You actually do. Think about it. How did you feel when Skye started to notice you?”

Okay, she has a point.

Mona continues, “I can take care of myself, Drake. I’m a big girl now. A big,
hot
girl. And I’m a witch too. That should count for something.”

She turns on her heel and goes upstairs to have her dinner.

We stop in front of the nightclub. Yara lights up a cigarette, which is odd, since I’ve never seen her smoking. Then, still holding the cigarette between her fingers, she applies lipstick, a brand I don’t recognize. We approach the bouncer, a scary-looking
, large man who stands god-like behind the rope. Yara doesn’t even look at the line and goes directly to him. Greta and I follow her.

My new friends’ magical energy so close to me is disturbing. I haven’t had this nonstop tingling since I left London and Mum. It’s hard to get used to the intense sensation.

The bouncer measures up the three of us. We clearly look underage. However, Yara gets close to him, takes a deep drag, and blows the smoke right in his face. The guy in front of the line shudders. I do too. The bouncer can crush Yara with his pinkie. But before the man has a chance to react, she shows him her fake ID.

“I don’t need to show ID. I’m twenty-one. I come here all the time.”

The bouncer stares at her glassily through the smoke. He says in a deep voice. “You don’t need to show ID. You’re twenty-one. You come here all the time.”

“And my friends too.” She glances at the rope between them.

“And your friends too,” the man parrots. He unclips the rope and motions the three of us in.

Greta nudges me in the back, and in we go. We’re almost at the threshold of the door when his voice booms. “Hey!”

Yara turns back and says in a petulant voice, “What?”

He blinks a few times, apparently confused. “No smoking inside,” he says in a tame tone.

Yara smirks, throws the cigarette on the floor, and stomps on it. Then she walks rapidly toward the bouncer again.

“What is she doing?” I whisper.

She stands again before him and, with her index finger, gestures him to come closer. When he does, she kisses him on the lips, mouth closed, no tongue, for a couple of seconds. She pulls away and smiles. He has a puzzled look on his face. He says nothing, though, and proceeds to talk to the man in front of the line as if nothing had happened.

Yara walks to us, a victory smile on her lips.

“What was that?” I ask Greta as we enter the club.

“I told you, she’s a master of potion
mixing,” Greta says in my ear. “She can mix it up. She can make cigarettes, lipsticks, creams, perfumes, nail polish. Very handy, if you ask me.”

I just shake my head while we enter the temple of deafness.

***

The girls go chat with a couple of guys. I lean on one of the columns and try to absorb the vibe of the place. The adjustment to the loud music and blinding lights is swift. Soon, a boy approaches me. He’s a little older than me, muscular and tanned
; he looks like a GQ cover model. And he uses a lot of product on his hair. “I saw you dancing. I’m Liam,” he says.

“I have a boyfriend,” I say.

He smiles. “Me too.”

Okay, this can’t be a pick-up line. At least he’s not flirting. I relax a little.

He leans over. “You have a slight accent. Where is it from?” He smells good.

“London.” I’m surprised he can hear the accent, especially with all the noise.

“Do you want to dance?”

“I can’t dance to save my life.”

“I’ll teach you. Come on.”

I see no harm. He holds my hand with such gentleness. His orientation is not a line. It’s evident when he dances. He shakes his hips with joy and abandonment. It’s contagious. Soon I’m joining him, awkwardly. He’s all smiles, but he doesn’t laugh.

He gets close. “Not bad! You may need some lubricant for your rusty joints. Can I get you a drink? I’m getting a pear martini.”

Not a bad idea. “A Buck’s Fizz for me.”

“A what?”

“The bartender will know.”

“Okay. Don’t run away, sweetie. I
will
chase you,” he says with a mock stern tone.

I just stay there, looking like a dork. Without him to copy, I just fling my arms back and forth. It’s like I’m trying to take flight. But I like the idea of dancing, of letting yourself go a little. And I don’t care what the other people on the dance floor think.

The electronic music finally conquers me. I’m enjoying it. The energy signatures of Yara and Greta are fainter now. They’re still around, but not so close.

Liam comes back with a
martini and something that’s definitely
not
a Buck’s Fizz.

“The guy had no idea what a Fizz was. He made you a
cosmo.” He hands me a pinkish drink.

Delicious. We step off of the dance floor for a while.

“Having fun? Where’s your boyfriend?”

“He doesn’t like to dance.”

Liam scoffs. “Mine neither. Their loss.” We raise our cups and toast.

He leans over to talk in my ear. “Listen, my friend got us into the VIP lounge today.
Wanna join us?”

“Sorry, I’m here with my friends.” I expect him to invite all of us over, but he doesn’t. It’s all right by me; I don’t want to impose on a guy I just met.

Soon we’re back dancing, and I’m clearly less inhibited after the drink.

Liam approves my moves. “You’re getting it.”

I let the moment take over. The thumping music, the drink, Liam’s niceness. The people’s energy feeds my own. My body wants to dance. I feel smooth.

The magical energy coming close to me almost goes unnoticed. I open my eyes suddenly, looking to the upper floor right above Liam.

“What?” he asks, turning to look in that direction.

The energy fades. I look around and see Greta and Yara dancing with some guys on the opposite side. It wasn’t the girls’ signatures.

“Excuse me,” I tell Liam. “I need to talk to my friends.”

Liam nods, a little concerned.

Making my way to Greta, I try to clear my head. Am I overreacting? There are other Sisters in Seattle, after all.

Greta sees me approaching and comes to talk. “Hey! You disappeared.”

“Making friends. Did you sense another Sister?”

She shakes her head. “Why? Anything wrong?”

“No, no.”

Yara grabs my hand and makes me dance with their group for a while. When I try to get back to Liam, he tells me his boyfriend called. He’s leaving. We exchange numbers.

Dancing with Liam makes me feel great, but I’m still not used to drinking so fast. The lack of control doesn’t sit well with me. I spend the rest of the night clearing my head of the cosmo and waiting for my friends to get tired. The girls drop me off, and I’m actually thankful that the night ended.

***

It’s another chilly day in Seattle. I’m glad that Drake drives me every morning. And that we can have a little time together before school.

Actually, school has been great. I like hanging out with people my age. Being tutored wasn’t horrible, but I missed the human contact. Even if my only contact is with the other castaways at Fremont High.

While Drake goes back to the car to get a paper he forgot, I walk across the parking lot. Yara’s and Greta’s signatures tell me they’re to my left. The continuous tingling doesn’t bother me. At least, unlike Jane’s energy trail at our last school, it’s not a constant reminder that a Night Sister may try to kill me.

Yara’s skill with potions
has given me an idea. I need to talk to her.

The two Sisters are chatting with Priscilla, who has her lips pursed.

“Hi, girls.”

“Hey, you wild thing. We’re just telling Pri about our night out,” Greta says.

“It sounds like you had fun.” Priscilla doesn’t seem amused.

“I guess we did. Hey, Yara, a word?”

She looks at me, surprised, but she doesn’t move.

“Come here.” I gesture to her to follow me. We walk to an isolated patch of grass beside the building.

“What is it?” she asks.

“It’s just a favor. Greta told me—and you showed me—how you’re a potions prodigy. I was wondering if you could brew a few things for me. I’d pay for the ingredients, of course.”

She stares at me. “Okay. What do you need? I’m guessing it’s not a strong Fancy Me one, since you already have the hot boyfriend and all.”

I giggle. “No, nothing like that. I haven’t thought it through yet. I’ll write it down, and then we can discuss it.”

“Come over to my house after school. I’ll show you what I can do.”

“Sure, that’d be cool.”

Drake comes over. “Hey, Yara.” Then he kisses me. “I’m missing a page. From my paper. I’ll go in and rewrite it before the bell.”

“Drake, is it cool if I go to Yara’s after school?”

“Oh. Weren’t we…you know?” he asks.

Embarrassed, I look at Yara, but she just stares at Drake. The way she looks at him makes me uncomfortable.

She says, “Actually, I live nearby. We can walk.”

I turn to him. “Can I take a rain check?”

He looks bummed, but says, “Okay.” He leaves without a goodbye peck.

And I notice Yara watching him go.

***

Yara’s house is a ten-minute walk from school. Greta
comes with us.

We’re in a brightly painted split level. Each room has a different color. The walls of the living room are turquoise; the kitchen is sunshine
yellow. Yara makes us smoothies, and we chat a bit. Then we go downstairs to a vast magenta room. I try to ignore the incessant energy emanating from Yara and Greta.

“This was once my toy room,” Yara says. “In a way, it still is.”

“Wow! It looks like a chemistry laboratory.”

“It is that also,” Yara says proudly.

“Yeah, only it’s pink. It’s Hello Kitty’s lab,” Greta says.

Yara punches her on the arm. “Not cool.”

Greta puts her hands up. “Hey. I like it! I had pink hair for three months.”

I recognize
a mortar, pestles, cauldrons, and other items every Sister has. But I also see advanced stuff: Bunsen burners, pipettes, all kinds of containers, test tubes, and flasks.

“What are those?” I ask, looking at some pieces of equipment in a corner.

“Kettles, kiln, filters, evaporators.” Yara points at each item in turn.

“It’s more loaded than the science lab at school! Your parents know you’re a Sister, right?” It’d be hard to explain why a teenage girl would need a state-of-the-art pharmaceutical lab.

“They know. Mom is one too. And Dad is the one who made a fuss about buying all kinds of insurance for the house.” Yara bites her lip. “Accidents do happen.”

“Show her the
real
lab,” Greta says.

Yara leads us to the adjacent room. It has a door with a window. “This is a sterile room. For finer mixtures.”

It’s the only dull-painted room in the house. Save for a few silvery machines and some transparent vials, everything is white. I look at Yara with genuine admiration. She is so quiet at school, but her eyes light up while she shows me the room.

“And there?” I point to the next door.

“That’s just the laundry room. And the bathroom, and the garage. Not important.”

She explains why the room is perfect for her. She spray-painted the small windows in the front, so no one can peek inside. The outside light comes from the sliding doors that lead to the backyard. “Very useful, because I had to run outside with some potions that didn’t work out. The grass is dead around the porch from all the…unsuccessful trials.”

“She uses the fireplace too,” Greta says.

Yara shrugs. “It’s good to air the fumes. And here’s my pantry.” She taps a large apothecary cabinet. It has a multitude of small drawers, all of them labeled. Then she sits at a small computer desk and opens her laptop. “So I can do almost anything. What do you need?”