Embrace (10 page)

“Kaylee, it’s okay.” I grabbed her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. “You’re okay. I promise.” I ran my hand over her bed, smoothing the sheet and moving the covers out of the way. “Calm down so I can get the straps off you.”

The nurse started to protest, but I shot her a look that dared her to try and stop me. Anger trickled through my limbs, giving me the feeling that I could take her and the security guard if they messed with me. Kaylee’s doctor entered the room with another nurse behind him. The nurse carried a long needle and a bottle of clear liquid. My gaze met her doctor’s.

“She’s fine.” I assured him. Kaylee had settled back onto her bed, her fists balled around the sheet. “Waking up this way just startled her.” I tugged at a strap to show what I meant.

The doctor walked over to the bed. Kaylee grabbed my hand and squeezed. I bit back a yelp from her pressure while the doctor checked her pupils and pulse. Satisfied with what he saw, he directed the others to leave. Mrs. Bishop still hadn’t moved.

“Help me get these things off her.” I removed the leather binding around Kaylee’s left wrist while her mom worked on the one on her right.

“How’d you know what was wrong?” Mrs. Bishop asked.

“If you woke up in a strange room tied to a bed, wouldn’t you scream?”

“I suppose.”

“Don’t you think that all this security is scaring your daughter? How is she supposed to believe that she’s okay if everyone is treating her like a psych patient? This is Kaylee we’re talking about.”

Mrs. Bishop didn’t say anything, but she did free Kaylee’s other arm.

“I’ll stay with her,” I offered. “Why don’t you go home for a couple hours, grab something to eat and change.”

Mrs. Bishop had on the same navy pants and cream sweater she’d been wearing Saturday. Dark bags haunted her eyes. She ran her fingers through her chopped hair, her nails snagging on a few knots. “I could use a shower.”

“Kaylee will be fine.”

Kaylee, who seemed to be absorbing the conversation, nodded.

I walked Mrs. Bishop to the door and whispered, “I won’t leave her alone.”

I then plopped down on the bed, purposely bumping Kaylee’s hip with mine. She scooted over.

“What’s happening to me?”

I pulled the covers up to our waists.

“You’ve had a rough few days,” I replied. “The doctors think that the shock of the near accident with that truck caught up to you. I should have come over that night. I never should have let you be alone.”

Kaylee twitched a shoulder. It told me she was more traumatized by the event than she had admitted. I felt horrible for not realizing that before. I was her best friend. I know her better than anyone else. I should have known she needed me. I should have shown up on her doorstep with my pillow and a hug. I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

I pulled the card my brother had made out of my purse and handed it to her with the Jelly Bellies. “Chase made this for you.”

She looked at the brightly colored get-well wishes, a smile stretching over her face. “Tell him thanks and I love it.”

“Will do.” I ripped open the box of chocolate-covered raisins. “Want to talk about it?”

Her eyes roamed the room as if checking that we were alone. “I can’t,” she whispered.

“Maybe if you just tell me everything that happened with the MINI, every last detail, it will help you feel better,” I pushed, recalling one of the treatments for schizophrenia is therapy. Letting a person discuss her fears. I could only imagine how terrified Kaylee must have been in an out-of-control car that was no taller than the tires of a big rig.

“It was the weirdest thing. You and I have been all over Massachusetts in the MINI and it’s never let us down.” She popped a Jelly Belly into her mouth. “It didn’t really want to go at first, you know? I’d press the gas, the engine would rev, but I wasn’t moving any faster. Josh just happened to be behind me when we were leaving school, so he followed me home.”

I knew the rest. Her car had sputtered for several minutes before the engine warmed up, and it had seemed to be running like normal. She’d been on the main road when the brakes had gone out and the steering stuck. The MINI had stalled on her in the middle of an intersection. She swore it hadn’t rolled to a stop but had abruptly come to a halt. (I was sure that was a matter of perception, but didn’t say so. Instead, I gave her leg a gentle squeeze to say it was okay.) The grill of a semi had been kissing the chrome door handle of the car before it was all over. I let Kaylee recount the event in her own words: from the guy in a sports car honking at her for driving twenty under the speed limit to the bugs splattered against the grill of the truck, to not feeling like she was okay until she’d been in Josh’s arms. He had been the one to call a tow truck. Last I heard, the MINI was still parked in his driveway.

Kaylee’s shoulders relaxed. She stopped looking around the room as if expecting someone to pop up from behind the spare chair. By the time the nurse came to check on her, Kaylee and I were talking about how much homework Mr. Chapin gave. We were laughing and chatting, and it was like old times. The nurse even took the straps out of the room.

Her doctor said that she had to remain at the hospital for the next forty-eight hours for observation to make sure she was really past the worst of it. I knew she was. Right then, sitting on the bed with the rough sheets under the hum of the fluorescent light above her headboard, Kaylee was back to herself.

“You know something?” I inquired, waiting until she asked what before continuing. “You really need a toothbrush and a comb.”

“Hah!” Kaylee belted out a laugh, then covered her mouth with her hand. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?” She ran to the bathroom.

“Because I was enjoying hanging out too much,” I called after her.

I grabbed my cell phone and quickly typed a message to Josh, letting him know the good news about Kaylee’s condition. My thumb hovered over
Send
when a loud crash—like the sound of breaking glass—came from the bathroom.

Chapter 8

The Test

P
IECES
O
F
T
HE
B
ATHROOM
mirror lay scattered on the sink and floor around Kaylee’s bare feet. She clenched her arm close to her chest. I stood in the doorway, a hand on each side of the doorframe, gaping at her.

“Are you all right?” I managed to ask, secretly hoping that the mirror somehow jumped off the wall while she was brushing her hair. Then I saw a stream of blood running down her forearm. My eyes traveled up to her bleeding knuckles. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her hand. “Did you punch the mirror?”

Kaylee didn’t reply.

“What happened?” a voice said from behind us.

We both jumped. Mrs. Bishop couldn’t have come back to the hospital at a worst time. She missed all the joking and chatting. She didn’t get to see her daughter acting like a carefree teenager.

“I don’t know,” I admitted.

And just like that, Kaylee was back to square one. The doctors ran more tests. A specialist was called in. I was told to go home.

Dad and Chase were tossing a ball in the front yard when I got to the house. I felt dejected. I’d failed Kaylee again. I dropped my purse on the floor next to the stairs and trudged to the kitchen, sinking into a chair and giving in to the tears I’d suppressed since her relapse. I’d been so sure she’d simply needed to talk through what was bothering her and she’d be fine.

After a while, there weren’t any tears left. I wiped my cheeks dry with the palm of my hand as I opened the refrigerator. I saw the wine glass I’d taken out earlier in my peripheral vision. The articles I’d printed that morning were stacked in a neat pile next to it.

Deep in my heart I knew Kaylee wasn’t crazy. Nothing inside of her had snapped as she walked from third period to fourth period. Some outside force was at play, and I planned to find out what it was. As impossible as witchcraft seemed, I had to try it.

Chase’s voice drifted in the front door, reminding me that I wasn’t as alone as I felt. If I didn’t move quickly, I’d be trying to explain what I was doing to my dad, and there was no way he’d understand my desperation.

Without wasting another moment, I grabbed the wine glass, papers, a knife, a lunch plate, and a container of salt from the cabinets. In the hall closet, I found a shoebox filled with candles and added a bag of white tea lights to the pile. Next, I sprinted up the stairs and into my room, dropped everything on my bed, and prepared for my spell.

Resorting to witchcraft. God, I had to be going insane to believe that magic could be the cause of Kaylee’s illness.

I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.

No, crazy was my best friend being afraid of her shadow or thinking she was schizophrenic. It was watching her condition get worse with each day that passed and not being willing to try the unbelievable.

I told my reflection that I was perfectly and undeniably sane.

“Yeah, right,” I mumbled. “Sane people always believe they can cast spells.”

The website said to find peace within yourself. The hazel eyes that stared back at me were anything but peaceful. Skepticism, confusion, fear, and anger clung to each other in the eyes I saw. Those were the only emotions I had left in me, and they were the only emotions I had to work with. I filled the wine glass halfway with water and went back to my room.

Thankful that the tea lights came in their own casing, I placed them on the carpet in a circle around me. I sat cross-legged in the center of the candles with the rest of the items I’d taken from downstairs beside me and the instructions to the spell in my lap.

I felt ridiculous sitting in my room like this. I took three deep breaths to calm myself.

“The worst thing that can happen is nothing at all,” I reminded myself.

I began by setting the plate on the carpet in front of me. The wine glass, or
chalice
, as the website had referred to it, went to its right. I poured a small pile of salt onto the plate and set the knife and the last candle near the salt.

Next, I was to draw the power within me—if there was any—to the surface. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but maybe it was like meditating, concentrating all my thoughts and energy on what I wished for. So I placed my hands palms-up on my knees and closed my eyes.
For Kaylee
. To find out what’s going on. To know if someone had intentionally singled her out wanting to hurt her. To find that person and make them fix this.

When I opened my eyes, the air felt thick and tasted of copper. I immediately remembered the Internet site that had said magic could be tasted and felt. In that moment, I knew I had to try my best to cast away all fear and skepticism, to will myself to believe something like this could really work. It had to.

I leaned closer to the items in front of me, whispered, “Ignite,” and blew gently on the candle, which remained as unlit as it had been when I’d started. I began again, breathing in deeply and forcing myself to believe.

But just in case my breath alone wouldn’t be enough to light the candles, I decided to light the first one the old-fashioned way, the mortal way. I struck a wooden match against the black strip, lighting it, and held its flame to the candle on the plate.

“Ignite.”

The wick caught fire and then one by one the candles around me lit without the need of the match. Their flames were soft at first, but grew in strength like the fury bottled up within me. They reached upward in bright determination. It was all the proof I finally needed to accept that magic existed. That people could be witches. That someone had cursed my best friend and they would pay.

The flames of the candles licked the air as if it were gasoline, gaining in power and size until I was trapped in the circle I’d created. Until I was afraid I’d burn down the house.

My fear was back. How had the Internet described it?
Threefold
. That was the word I’d seen. My fear was back threefold. I blew at the candle on the plate, hoping if I extinguished it the others would go out as well. Only, when the flame of that candle was doused, the others grew. Their heat had me dripping sweat and gasping for air that wasn’t there. Even with the immediate threat of being burned alive, I couldn’t get myself to move. Who would help Kaylee now? Through the confusion of my panic, I heard one word, spoken loud and strong and with authority.

“Obliterate!”

Isaac stood in the doorway, his arm raised, the palm of his hand facing me. Power poured from him, smothering the fire around me, and with his power came the oxygen my lungs craved. The smell of copper was gone, replaced with the sweet scent of vanilla and spearmint that was Isaac.

My chest heaved as if I’d run a hundred miles. Isaac’s eyes penetrated me, leaving me feeling vulnerable and a little silly. He stepped into my room and swept his hand sideways. The candles that formed my circle flew to the wastebasket in the corner of my room. The plate, glass, and other items vanished, reappearing on my dresser. He closed the door behind him.

My face was not only wet with sweat, but with tears as well. I’d just seen with my own eyes that magic was real, but I still couldn’t believe it. Isaac trembled visibly; his hands balled into fists at his sides like someone trying their best to control their temper. I felt like I had to say something. Since I was still trying to process what had happened, I settled for the only other thing I could think of.

“My dad isn’t going to like us being in my room with the door closed.”

“He sent me up here to try to cheer you up.”

“Oh.”

He spoke his next words slowly, each with emphasis. “You cannot practice magic when your emotions are running wild.”

His comment cleared the fog in my brain, allowing the recent events to fall into place like the pieces of a puzzle.

I’d been so stupid.

Every blasted shock that happened when Isaac touched me. The hints that Gloucester had a history. The weight of the air around me when I was with him. He was a witch, and he knew about his powers. He would have felt mine and known what it was. The night of the bonfire came back to me. When his hand had brushed the back of my neck, he’d begun to ask, “Are you—?” only I hadn’t let him finish his sentence. My response would have told him I hadn’t known about my powers, and there was only one reason not to mention them to me. He was one of the witches the Internet had warned about. One who drew others to him. It wasn’t love I felt for Isaac, it was his powers pulling me to him. His magic casting a spell over me. I’d been such a fool.

“You,” I accused. “How could you?” I lunged for him, pounding my fists on his chest. “Kaylee doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t have any powers. How could you do this to her?”

Isaac grabbed my wrists. His magic wrapped around me like thick ropes tying my arms tightly to my chest and binding my legs together so that I couldn’t move.

“Madison, calm down. Your father will hear you.”

“I will not calm down!” I screamed, figuring I’d better get the words out before he sealed my mouth shut with invisible tape. “What were you doing at the hospital today? What did you do to Kaylee?”

“I was trying to help her.”

“Right. That’s why she became hysterical seconds after you left her room.” I struggled to move my leg so that I could knee him in the groin. It didn’t work.

“She was dreaming, squirming like a fish out of water while I was there. I couldn’t help her, and I couldn’t stand to see her like that any longer. I went home to read through more books, hoping to find a counter spell.”

“You’re lying!”

Mrs. Bishop would have told me if Kaylee had been thrashing in her sleep. She wouldn’t have let me undo the straps around her wrists. She wouldn’t have left the hospital to go home and take a shower.

Isaac covered my mouth with his hand instead. “Listen to me. I didn’t hurt Kaylee. You have to calm down.”

I bit his hand. He swore and yanked it away. My unseen bonds gripped me tighter.

Isaac glanced at the door. With a wave of his hand I became weightless vapors. I tried to scream, but there wasn’t enough left of me to form the sound. A moment later, I was sitting on my bed next to Isaac, his arm around my shoulders. It all had happened too fast. Then the door to my room swung open, and my dad was there, panting.

“I heard a scream?” he said. “Are you okay?”

Isaac patted my shoulder. “She broke down talking about Kaylee.”

I opened my mouth to scream
LIAR
, but the word came out gargled. I glared at Isaac. He kissed my forehead. I would have smacked him if I could have moved.

“We all understand,” Isaac said. “It’s okay.”

I pursed my lips and squinted.
Bastard
, I thought, hoping he could hear the unspoken word.

My dad dragged his hand through his hair. “Why does it smell like something’s burning in here?”

Isaac nodded toward the nightstand where a single two-wick candle burned. The box of matches I’d used earlier was next to it.

“Yeah, well, leave the door open. Okay?” And my dad left. If I wasn’t so angry, I might have been scared to be alone with Isaac.

Isaac waited a moment before closing the door halfway with a wave of his hand. He picked up the stack of papers I had printed from my bed. He remained calm—arrogant, in my opinion.

“I see you’ve embraced your powers,” he said.

I would have replied,
Bite me,
if he’d released my voice. I made another fruitless attempt to break free of my bindings.

He scanned a page as he talked. “You’re right that Kaylee’s been cursed. I could feel its power when I visited the hospital. What I don’t understand is how the curse still has the hold on her that it does.”

The answer to that question was simple. He was good. He knew how to cast a curse. If I ever regained the use of my hands I was going to claw his eyes out. I closed mine, trying to find my center and the power I had called upon earlier. Maybe if I concentrated hard enough I could set Isaac on fire. When I peeked, he was reading one of the articles. To my disappointment, he wasn’t engulfed in flames.

After a minute, his velvet brown eyes looked up at me, and I hated that he still had the power to make my heart beat faster.

“I’m not the one who cursed her.”

I followed his gaze back to the paper and saw his finger just above a passage I’d read earlier:
Natural witches are rarely evil and have the ability to recognize one another through simple touch.
Though my thoughts were in chaos, I somehow knew then that Isaac was a natural witch. He didn’t feel evil. Not really. And his magic didn’t taste evil.

Some of my anger toward him faded, and his spell slipped away. “Why should I believe you?” I could finally ask.

“Madison, you know I’m not the bad guy.”

I knew I didn’t want him to be the bad guy. But he had a past, one I knew little about. He had enemies, or at least one he’d gotten in a fight with before moving to Gloucester. The weird events around town, the thing with the MINI, and Kaylee’s panic attacks had all started after we’d met Isaac. He’d have to do more than tell me he hadn’t hurt my best friend for me to believe I had the wrong person.