Indelible (30 page)

He turned to Vovó. “I will enjoy hurting Yara. I will spend the time on her I should have spent on Christopher. If I had been slow with him he would have learned the error of his ways. He would have begged to return to me what he had stolen.”

“What did he steal?” Vovó asked.

“I’m not going to tell you. You’ll try to steal it from me. You won’t get it!”

“What did he steal?” Vovó asked. This time the power, the demand in her voice rolled over me and Thomas was forced to answer.

Thomas choked, his face flushing before he said. “Something that wasn’t his!”

He took a deep, calming breath and a satisfied grin spread across his face. “When I succeeded, he tried to stop me. He had been jealous of his sons and he was jealous of me. He wanted the Clutch out of the way so he could be the only one with the power. But I destroyed him and that group so I alone would know the secrets they had discovered.”

“Who cares?” I took my hand out of pocket and gestured at him. “What good is your precious power when you were trapped at a prep school? And now you’re trapped here.”

“I knew one day I would leave Pendrell. And now I have.” He bowed. He acted like all of this was part of his master plan. “I will find a way to escape and when I do, I will come for you.”

His threat made my heart stop for a moment before beating so hard my ribs hurt. I couldn’t understand him. “But why was that so important when you had found a way to cheat death?”

“It wasn’t enough to live. I want that power.” He paced around the circle, speaking with his hands in constant motion. “You’ve never tasted real power or seen its greatness in action. I’d only read about it but I could imagine it pumping through my veins. I knew the Clutch’s recipe worked; I saw how Henry lost his own will and obeyed ours. Christopher had stolen it for himself but in the end it didn’t matter, we found it on our own. Well, I did. The rest of my group never knew we had succeeded. After I had the true recipe, the key to the power, I destroyed the Clutch so no one but me knew it existed. And once I’m free I’ll figure out how to alter the recipe. I won’t need counterbalances like the rest of them, I will be strong enough to use it alone.”

Alone? Counterbalances? I didn’t know what that meant but I knew of one bubble I could burst. “You didn’t stop the Clutch.” I took great pleasure in delivering this news. “They’re still alive and well.”

“What?” His smug expression turned hostile. “No! I destroyed them.”

“Enough!” Vovó said. She stepped in front of me with her arms crossed. “So this drug. It was the most important thing in your life. The thing that in the end mattered most. All you have done has been to keep its secret for yourself so you alone can wield its great and terrible power?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me what the recipe is.”

“No.” He ground his teeth together loud enough for me to hear it. “How are you doing this?”

“I am the Matriarca.”

“Don’t do this.” His hands went to his hair pulling it. “Why do you care?”

“Because you tried to steal one of the treasures from my life and I believe in justice. Tell me the recipe. Now.”

Vovó stood tall, proud and ruthless. I had never seen her like this. When she was with ghosts she was usually so kind. Gone was my grandmother full of love, and in her place stood a warrior exacting retribution. In that moment I didn’t know her. She wielded a power more swift and powerful than any Thomas could hope to have. It oozed from her aura; I could feel it. I was almost afraid if I reached out and touched her, it would shock me.

“No!” Thomas screamed. “I won’t let you steal it from me!”

Power shot out from her in such intensity that it knocked me to my butt and Thomas flew against the other side of the bubble. He bounced off it and landed on his feet.

“Tell me!”

“No!” He took a step toward her.

Vovó stretched out her hand toward him and I swore for a minute she almost had a spark of green fly from her fingertips.

Thomas took another step, then something hit him in the chest. Was it green? His whole body stood rigid, his arms, legs, fighting the compulsion to answer Vovó’s questions. His jaw smacked shut then sprang open with a pop. He groaned, holding a hand to his cheek. His eyes rolled back, his entire body shook, and spirit fluid began dribbling from his nose. Watching him made me queasy. It was one of the most awful things I’d ever seen.

Finally he sagged to the ground. “The recipe is . . . No!” His fingers went to his throat clawing at it, scratching, drawing more spirit fluid but still he spouted off a list of ingredients. Most of them I hadn’t heard of, but Vovó nodded.

He dropped his head to the ground, with nothing left to give, a truly broken figure, stripped of that which he held most dear. He sobbed. Despite everything he’d done, it was painful to witness.

Vovó began to sing in a soothing voice and the candles flickered; she circled around him, sprinkling her concoction of herbs behind her as she walked. Thomas’s image shuddered.

The light from the moon faded, the night chill grew more intense, a wailing sound vibrated in the air. Shadows moved, from the earth, from the sky, converging like moths around Thomas’s circle. His face was pressed against the dirt. He pushed up to all fours, his head swinging around, seeing the shadows waiting to attack him. Terror and horror carved his face.

His fear was so strong I could feel it. I could sense the horrible cold of the shadows as they waited to devour him. Sulfur tinged the air.

“Please, don’t let them get me. Please!” His desperate voice rang in my ears. “I can tell you more.”

“Goodbye, Thomas.”

A gust of wind swept across the yard as Vovó’s words grew louder. I glanced up and stared in awe at my grandma.

Vovó eyes were wide, her arms outstretched toward Thomas. Her hair danced in the breeze and she almost seemed to glow. She threw her head back and screamed a word I couldn’t make out. With that, all the candles flared up before blowing out. The shadows enveloped Thomas.

Vovó touched my shoulder. “Look away.”

I closed my eyes and plugged my ears with my fingers, but I couldn’t block out the loud sounds of shredding, ripping, tearing and breaking. Sounds of utter destruction. I couldn’t see it, but the sounds and my imagination made up their own visuals. Above all the wet, juicy sounds came a familiar scream.

I dropped to my bottom, bringing my knees to my chest and rested my eyes on my knees. It felt like there was nothing but evil in the world, no goodness. I tried to block it out but I couldn’t. It pressed in from all around me. And finally it was over, but still I rocked back and forth. I didn’t stop until a warm arm tightened around me. And with that arm came a sliver of warmth in the chill that had invaded my soul.

“You were right. That was awful.”

“It’s is a huge responsibility, Querida, to decide which spirits need banishing. What waits for them is more horrible than anything you can imagine. It is only to be used for the truly evil.”

I looked at my grandma, who had tears in her eyes. She didn’t say anything, just nodded. I stared at the flowering herbs, not seeing them.

I sat there unable to move while my grandma cleaned up around me. My eyes remained closed, but I heard her sweeping, and singing, and spreading hew herbs, which sifted gently to the ground. New smells filled air, aromas of lightness, love, and peace. She both cleaned the physical space and cleansed the spiritual. Soon, the feeling of peace was restored, as if Thomas had never been there.

I opened my eyes and raised my head to look at her.

She had restored her hair to its normal neat bun at the base of her neck, looking like my sweet and loving grandma again. I had to know the truth about my lingering doubts.

“Was he telling the truth about being able to save Brent?”

She sat down beside me. “He thought he was.”

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and guided my head to rest on her chest. I smelled her comforting orchid scent. Her goodness washed over me like a healing balm, removing all the darkness that had remained.

“But his idea of being saved is not what you would want for Brent. Thomas was a liar and good at making you believe him. He was evil, Yara. One with a twisted mind, unable to speak the truth.” She rubbed her hand up and down my arm.

“I know.” I took a shaky breath. “The recipe you made him tell you. Do you think it can help Brent?”

“No. The herbs he used would do nothing to help heal someone who was sick. It is what the Clutch used for their mind control.”

“Then why did you want it?”

“It is always good to know as much as you can about your enemies. And because I knew getting it from him would hurt him.” She paused and she lowered her voice. “I am not always kind.”

We didn’t say anything else, but being in her arms reminded me of when I was young and she would hold me close after a nightmare, reassuring me the monsters in my dream weren’t real.

Chapter Fifteen

I missed a week of school. My mom insisted on taking care of me. The healing I needed most was emotional, but the stitches and concussion made a good cover. Brent still hadn’t come back. He had been released from the hospital but was still recovering at home. His mother had ordered another forced R&R on him. His school assignments were being e-mailed to him and he worked with a tutor.

I hoped that Vovo’s idea was right, that banishing Thomas would heal Brent, but I hadn’t seen him. I wanted to judge with my own eyes. On the phone he kept insisting he felt fine, better even, but I wasn’t sure that I trusted that assessment. If he were better, wouldn’t he be back in school? I kept trying to tell myself that it was working, that it would just take time, but a part of me feared that the banishing hadn’t affected him at all.

Two weeks later, while his parents were gone on a Saturday, Steve managed to smuggle Brent out of the house so we could all have lunch together. Cherie and I were waiting for them at Miguel’s Jr. I spotted them through the glass doors and ran into the parking lot to hug him, but stumbled off the sidewalk at his appearance.

I stretched out my twisted ankle, staring at Brent. He looked bad, like the after photo in a scared-straight, before-and-after-drugs picture. His usually tanned skin was now closer to a pasty yellow, and his hair, which was usually so artfully disarrayed, looked plain messy. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his cheekbones stood out from all the weight he’d lost. He moved slowly, like an old man with a walker.

He smiled at me, and I hoped my wide grin hid my horror over his altered state. Instead of throwing my arms around him in a bone-crushing hug, I took his hand gently, holding it like I would the world’s most expensive china.

“Brent? How are you feeling?”

“Horrible.”

Okay, that had been a stupid question on my part, but at least he hadn’t lied to me. I put my arm around him to help steady him as we continued toward the restaurant.

“Has your grandmother found out anything?” Brent stopped at the door, resting on the handle.

“No. She still has some emails and calls out, but as of yet, nothing. No one has heard of anything like this before.” I opened the door and Steve helped him through.

“Did you and Cherie find out any more information about the other victims of the curse?”

“No, only what she had last year. She had some general information about them, but most of the websites she got her information from have been deleted.”

“The Clutch got to them already.” He pulled a tissue from his pocket

“It seems that way.”

“What about the Clutch?” I helped Brent sit while Steve and Cherie went up to order. A sheen of perspiration glistened on his forehead and he swabbed it away with the tissue. “Are they doing anything for you?”

“They broke our agreement because I wasn’t able to keep my end of the deal.” He laughed, a thing that usually made me happy, but today it sounded bitter and hopeless. “At least I don’t work for them anymore.”

I watched him throughout the meal. He took small bites, chewed slowly, and grimaced in pain each time he swallowed. He was wasting away in front of my eyes, the sand in his hourglass of life funneling out. I blinked furiously to make sure I didn’t cry. He couldn’t die. I had to do whatever I could to save him, even if the price for myself was high.

v

The next day I found DJ at lunch, his fingers tapping a beat on his thigh to music only he could hear.

“I need to talk to the Clutch,” I blurted out.

His eyes went wide and his fingers stilled. He stood and took me by the arm, dragging me away from the mass in the cafeteria.

“You don’t want to do that, Cupcake.” His green eyes held my hazel ones. “Trust me.”

“I know.” I bit my lip so hard I could taste blood. “It’s not that I want to. It’s that I have to. Brent needs me.”

“Yara—”

“Set it up.” My voice left no room for debate.

“Yara,” he said reaching out and capturing my hand in his. “Don’t do this. Once you get in deep, there won’t be any way out.”

I set my jaw. “I can’t stand by and let him die if there’s something I can do to help. Don’t you understand? Wouldn’t you do that for someone you loved?”

DJ watched me for almost a full minute before he spoke again. “Yes, I would,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. He squeezed my hand. “I’ll set it up. He’s lucky to have you.”

He brought his hand to my face and stroked my cheek.

I shied away from his touch. “No,” I corrected. “
I’m
lucky to have
him
.”

“They’ll want this to happen fast. When you feel people projecting, you do the same. I’ll pick you up for the meeting.”

I waited in my room all evening for DJ to contact me. It was nine o’clock when time finally froze. I was as ready as I would ever be, and I immediately projected. I opened my window and waited on the balcony for DJ to escort me to the meeting.

I looked back at Cherie while I waited. She and Steve had been taking Vovó’s time-slip pills every evening lately, but tonight I had purposely switched them with normal vitamins. She was sitting at her desk, hunched over some homework. I hadn’t told her what I was planning to do. I didn’t want anyone knowing about my meeting with the Clutch. I was afraid they’d try to talk me out of it and I didn’t want them involved.