shirts, dowsed in his cologne, under my pil ow so that every
night I could imagine he was with me. It was funny how the
goofiest behavior could feel perfectly natural when you were
in love. I knew there were people who rol ed their eyes at
Xavier and me, but if they did, we were too absorbed in
each other’s company to notice.
When Xavier pul ed away from the curb, I snapped back
to reality, like someone waking from a deep sleep.
“I’l pick you up tomorrow morning,” he cal ed out with a
dreamy smile. “Usual time.”
I stood in our tangled front yard watching until the Chevy
final y turned off at the end of the street.
Byron was stil my haven and I loved retreating there.
Everything was soothingly familiar, from the creaking steps
on the front porch to the large and airy rooms inside. It felt
like a safe cocoon away from the turbulence of the world. It
was true to say that while I loved human life, it scared me
sometimes. The earth had problems—problems almost too
large and too complex to ful y comprehend. Thinking about
them made my head spin. It also made me feel ineffectual.
But Ivy and Gabriel had told me to stop wasting my energy
and focus on our mission. There were plans for us to visit
other cities and towns in the vicinity of Venus Cove to expel
any dark forces residing there. Little did we know they
would find us before we had a chance to find them.
Dinner was already underway when I got home. My
brother and sister were out on the deck. They were each
engaged in solitary activities; Ivy had her nose in a book
and Gabriel was deep in concentration, composing on his
guitar. His expert fingers massaged the chords gently and
they seemed to answer his silent command. I joined them
and knelt down to pat my dog, Phantom, who was sleeping
soundly with his head resting on his giant, silky paws. He
stirred at my touch, his silvery body as sleek as ever. He
looked up at me with his sad, moonlight eyes, and I
imagined his expression to say:
Where have you been all
day?
Ivy lay semi-recumbent in the hammock, her golden hair
flowing down to her waist. It looked resplendent in the light
of the setting sun. My sister didn’t quite know how to relax in
a hammock; she looked too poised and reminded me of a
mythical creature who had somehow found herself
unceremoniously plonked in a world that made no sense to
her. She was wearing a pastel blue muslin dress and had
even set up a fril y parasol, to protect her from the fading
sunlight. No doubt she’d found it in some vintage shop and
couldn’t resist buying it.
“Where did you get that?” I laughed. “I think they went out
of fashion a while ago.”
“Wel , I think it’s charming,” said Ivy, laying down the novel
she’d been reading. I took a peek at the cover.
“
Jane Eyre
?” I asked dubiously. “You do know it’s a love
story, right?”
“I’m aware,” said my sister huffily.
“You’re turning into me!” I teased.
“I highly doubt I could ever be as swooning and sil y as
you are,” Ivy replied in a matter-of-fact tone but her eyes
were playful.
Gabriel stopped strumming his guitar to look over at us.
“I don’t think anybody could outdo Bethany in that
department,” he said with a smile. He put down his guitar
careful y and went to lean against the railing, staring out to
sea. As usual Gabe stood arrow straight, his white-blond
hair pul ed back in a ponytail. His steel gray eyes and his
sculpted features made him look like the celestial warrior
he was—but he was dressed like a human in faded jeans
and a loose shirt. His face was open and friendly. I was
pleased to see that Gabriel was more relaxed these days. I
felt as if both my siblings were less critical of me, more
accepting of the choices I’d made.
“How is it you always get home before me?” I
complained. “When I take a car and you walk!”
“I have my ways,” my brother replied with a secretive
smile. “Besides, I don’t have to pul over every two minutes
to express my affection.”
“We do not pul over to express affection!” I objected.
Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “So that wasn’t Xavier’s car
parked two blocks from school?”
“Maybe it was.” I tossed my head nonchalantly, hating
how he was always right. “But every two minutes is a slight
exaggeration!”
Ivy’s heart-shaped face glowed as she broke into a
laugh. “Oh, Bethany, relax. We’re used to the PDAs by
now.”
“Where did you learn that?” I asked curiously. I’d never
heard Ivy use abbreviated col oquialisms. Her formal
speech usual y sounded so out of place in the modern
world.
“I do spend time with young people, you know,” she said.
“I’m trying to be hip.”
Gabriel and I burst out laughing.
“In that case, don’t say
hip
for starters,” I advised.
Ivy leaned down to ruffle my hair affectionately and
changed the subject. “I hope you don’t have plans for this
weekend.”
“Can Xavier come?” I asked eagerly before she’d even
had a chance to explain what she and Gabe had in mind.
Xavier had long become a fixture in my life. Even when we
were apart, it seemed there was no activity or distraction
that could keep my thoughts from straying back to him.
Gabriel pointedly rol ed his eyes. “If he must.”
“Of course he must,” I said, grinning. “So what’s the
plan?”
“There’s a town cal ed Black Ridge twenty miles from
here,” my brother said. “We’ve been told they’re
experiencing some … disturbances.”
“You mean demonic disturbances?”
“Wel , three girls have gone missing in the last month and
a perfectly sound bridge col apsed onto passing traffic.”
I winced. “Sounds like our kind of problem. When do we
leave?”
“Saturday,” Ivy said. “So you better rest up.”
2
Co-Dependent
THE next day Mol y and I sat with the girls in the west
courtyard, which had become our new favorite hangout.
Mol y had changed since the loss of her best friend the year
before. Taylah’s death at the hands of Jake Thorn had been
a wake-up cal for my family. We had not foreseen the
extent of Jake’s powers until the day he’d slit her throat to
send us a message.
Since then Mol y had drifted away from her old circle of
friends and out of a sense of loyalty, I’d gone along with her.
I didn’t mind the switch. I knew Bryce Hamilton must now be
ful of painful memories for Mol y and I wanted to support
her in every way I could. Besides, our new group was more
or less the same as the old one. These were girls we’d
hung out with on occasion but never become close with.
They knew al the same people and gossiped about the
same things, so becoming integrated into their group was
easy as pie.
Things were strained in the group that had once included
Taylah, and I knew Mol y couldn’t real y relax with them.
Occasional y, out of the blue, conversations would come to
an awkward halt. The kind of pause where you knew
everyone was thinking the same thing:
What would Taylah
say right now?
But no one had the courage to speak her
name out loud. I had a feeling things would never be quite
the same for these girls. They’d tried to make things go
back to normal, but most of the time it felt as if they were
trying too hard. They laughed too loudly and their jokes
sounded rehearsed. It seemed that whatever they said or
did, they were constantly reminded of Taylah’s absence.
Taylah and Mol y had been at the very core of the group,
self-appointed authorities on so many things. Now Taylah
was gone and Mol y was completely withdrawn. The other
girls had lost both their mentors and were completely adrift
without them.
It was hard watching them struggle col ectively with their
grief; a grief they couldn’t articulate for fear of unleashing
emotion they couldn’t control. I so badly wanted to tel them
not to see death as an end but as a new beginning and
explain to them that Taylah had simply crossed to a new
plane of existence, one that was unencumbered by
physicality. I wanted them to know that Taylah was out there
stil , only now she was free. I wanted to tel them about
Heaven and the peace she would find there. But, of course,
sharing any of that knowledge was impossible. Not only
would I be breaking our most sacred code and exposing
our presence on earth, but I’d also be instantly kicked out of
the group for being a lunatic.
Our newly adopted friends huddled around a cluster of
carved wooden benches beneath a stone archway that
they’d claimed as their own. One thing that hadn’t changed
was their territorial nature. If any outsiders accidental y
strayed into our area, they didn’t linger long. The glaring
looks of disapproval that flew in their direction were usual y
enough to drive them away. Gray clouds rol ed ominously
overhead, but the girls never went inside unless there was
absolutely no alternative. As usual they sat with their hair
perfectly coiffed and their skirts hitched up, soaking up the
weak rays of sunlight that dipped and wavered behind the
clouds, washing the courtyard in a soft, dappled light. Any
opportunity to work on their tans could not be missed.
The Hal oween party on Friday had served to lift
everyone’s spirits and generate a lot of excitement. It was
being held at an abandoned estate just out of town that
belonged to the family of one of the seniors, Austin Knox.
His great-grandfather Thomas Knox had built the house in
1868, several years after the Civil War ended. He was one
of the town’s original founders and although the Knox family
hadn’t visited the place in years, historical landmark laws
protected it from demolition. So it had remained vacant and
uninhabited over the years. It was a run-down, old country
homestead with deep porches on every side, surrounded
by nothing but fields and a deserted highway. The locals
cal ed it the Boo Radley House—nobody ever went in or out
—and Austin claimed he’d even seen his great-
grandfather’s ghost standing at one of the upstairs
windows. According to Mol y, it was perfect party material;
nobody ever passed that way except for people who’d
taken a wrong turn on a road trip or the occasional trucker.
Plus, it was wel enough away from town that nobody could
complain about the noise. It had original y started out as a
smal gathering, but word had somehow gotten out and now
the whole school was talking about it. Even some of the
better-connected sophomores had managed to score an
invite.
I sat next to Mol y, whose titian curls were wound on top
of her head in a loose bun. Without makeup she had the
face of a china dol with wide sky blue eyes and rosebud
lips. She couldn’t resist a slick of lip gloss, but aside from
that, she’d pared everything back in her attempt to win favor
with Gabriel. I’d expected by now she’d be over the
hopeless crush she had on my brother, but so far her
feelings for him only seemed to have intensified.
I preferred Mol y without makeup; I liked the way she
looked her age rather than someone ten years older.
“I’m going as a naughty schoolgirl,” Abigail announced.
“In other words you’re going as yourself?” Mol y said with
a snort.