Sacrificial Magic (14 page)

He shook his head.

“You’re going to have to talk to me at some point, Vernal. You might as well do it now.”

Shrug. For fuck’s sake.

“So you’ve seen two ghosts? Or was it one ghost in two places? Do you have any idea why they might be after you or attracted to you?”

That was a thought, actually. Vernal couldn’t have the power to be a witch. If he did, he would have been discovered through the tests every child in the world took in their fifteenth year.

But then … Terrible had never been tested. He didn’t have a name; well, he had a few, on different forged identification cards and licenses, but legally, according to the Church, he didn’t exist. He probably had a birth certificate somewhere—he’d been born before Haunted Week—but without knowing his name, birth date, or who his parents had been, how was he supposed to find it?

The point was, he hadn’t been tested. “Vernal, when you were fifteen did you undergo Church testing?”

He eyed her, the suspicion in his gaze so hard she could almost feel it physically. “Aye. Ain’t everyone?”

So much for that theory. “Tell me about the ghosts.”

“Ain’t telling you shit.”

They’d reached the tree, its pale blossoms delicate and almost unbearably pretty against the bright blue sky. Just as she’d hoped, the ground was dry and the shade perfect to sit in. That she did, and after an awkward half minute or so Vernal sat down, too. Not next to her, of course, or even particularly close to her. But not too far.

“I really don’t want to keep you here all day,” she said when he’d gotten himself settled and she’d grabbed her notebook and pen.

“Ain’t that just like a Churchie, wanna throw around the power. Ain’t ascared of you fuckin Church.”

“I didn’t think you would be.” The breeze blew a lock of her hair over her face; she tucked it back behind her ear, flicked it over her shoulder. Crunched another pretzel stick. “I’m not trying to scare you. What I’m trying to do is just get you to tell me about the ghosts you’ve seen. Why don’t—”

A car pulled into the lot beside her, blasting the Damned out of its open windows. Not just any car, either. Lex’s car. What the hell was he doing there? Hadn’t he gotten her in enough trouble?

But then, he didn’t actually know he’d gotten her into trouble, though she was sure he could guess. For that matter, he didn’t necessarily know for sure that she and Terrible were together. She thought he knew, he most likely knew, but she’d never actually come out and said it.

Probably because knowing him, that would only make him try harder to get her into his bed again. Nobody liked to lose, but Lex enjoyed winning a bit too much.

“Give me a minute,” she told Vernal, and stood up. “Just think about it. I really could use that information.”

She probably wasn’t supposed to smoke there, but what the hell. The kids were. She tugged one out, lit it up as she waited for Lex to come talk to her. Which he did, wandering across the gravel lot toward the tree as if he was just out for a stroll, enjoying the lovely weather. “Hey, Tulip. What’s on the happening?”

“Why are you here again?”

“What’s that for? Still mean, you is. Ain’t I can just come check you, see how you do?”

She took another drag off her smoke, more to waste time than anything else. “You can check anything you want. I’m just not sure why you want to.”

He shrugged. “My side of town, dig. Shit like this going down, I wanna see the tale is.”

“Did you come here when Aros was here, and check on him?”

“Ain’t knew him.”

Vernal was watching them both very closely, she noticed. So was the crowd of students gathered outside the front doors; didn’t they ever go to their fucking classes? “So you’re checking on me, but not on him.”

“Came to check he were here, aye. Just ain’t got him chatterin much.”

“What did he say?” Shit, she’d left her notebook by the tree. Didn’t matter, though. Lex probably wouldn’t appreciate her writing down what he said.

“Say ain’t sure be a ghost. Say none talking to he neither. Say you Church ain’t trust him, sendin he out here. Like they wanting he dead, he say.”

“What? That’s crazy.”

Another shrug. “What he say. Ain’t my words.”

“Sure. Well, look, I’m trying to interview somebody here—that kid there, by the tree—and it’s Church business.
You can’t sit there with me while I talk to him, and I don’t know how long I’ll be, so you might as well go.”

He grinned. “Aw, nay, thinking I gots meself all kinda shit could be doin here, me. You get on your business, I get on mine, aye? Maybe after we get some food in us.”

“I have to go to the Church after that. And what do you have to do here that’s going to keep you all busy?”

“Just business, aye? You give me the wait when you done, before you get your drive on for that Church.”

Her cigarette was little more than filter between her fingers; she dropped it, gave it a slap with the toe of her shoe to crush it out. “Hey, really quick. I need a translation.”

“Aye? What you hearing?”

“It’s not really important, I don’t think, but … 
Yee mm lui
. What does it mean?”

He burst out laughing; the sound of it scraped at her, irritating like poison ivy. She folded her arms and waited until the laughter finally settled into deep breaths. It couldn’t be that fucking funny, whatever it was. “They callin you that?”

“What does it mean?”

“Saying you a snitch, they are. Think you playin the greasy-tongue, ain’t trusting you.”

“And that amuses you?”

“Gotta get my kicks somehows,” he said, still grinning. “But guessing that ain’t make it easy get you job done.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

He glanced at Vernal, still watching them; glanced at the crowd of students, larger than it had been. She felt those eyes on her, on both of them, felt their curiosity and the way they pretended they had none. “Mayhap I give you some help.”

“I think I can manage—”

Holy shit. She didn’t know how to react, what to do,
because he kissed her. Hard. His left hand squeezed her hip; his right clasped her neck and kept her from pulling away.

And before she had time to think, she was kissing him back.

She’d always liked kissing Lex. Always liked doing anything that
involved
kissing Lex; he was awfully damn good at all of those activities. It wasn’t as good as kissing Terrible, but it certainly didn’t suck. Somehow her own hand was on his shoulder and her other hand touched his neck, slid up into his hair, and it felt so familiar she could almost ignore the burning throb of guilt in her chest.

She didn’t, though. It only lasted a few seconds, really; she took her hand off his shoulder almost as fast as it had landed and started to pull back, anticipating a struggle.

But Lex let her go, though both his hands rested on her hips. His voice had that soft tone to it, the one she hadn’t heard in a couple of months. “How’s that for some helping?”

She glanced back at the crowd of kids, just in time to see a few of them close their mouths and turn away, to see heads duck together in whispered consultations. “Is that what that was supposed to be?”

He shook his head. “You give it the try-on now. See iffen you get some words out of em.”

He was probably right. If they all thought she was somehow connected to Slobag, then … yeah, they’d probably talk to her.

Nice. They wouldn’t respect or talk to her because of her abilities or talents, because of the place she’d earned in the Church through hard work and nearly getting herself killed several times over. But let Lex kiss her, let it look like she was with him, and suddenly their mouths opened. No respect for herself or her power; respect because she fucked someone powerful.

Well, what the hell did she expect? Hadn’t she known pretty much all of her life that her only real value came from what hid between her legs? She’d been told it often enough.

And the one person who truly cared about her for more than that, for more than just what he could get out of her and what she could do for him, the one person to whom she was more than a commodity to be traded or discarded … well, she’d just fucking betrayed him again, hadn’t she, the instant she responded to Lex. A few seconds or a few minutes, what did it matter. Betrayal was betrayal.

Shame settled so thick over her she thought she might collapse under the weight; she’d done it again. What the fuck was wrong with her?

She loved him, and she’d hurt him, and she couldn’t seem to stop; couldn’t stop taking her own happiness, throwing it on the floor, and jumping up and down on it until it shattered.

Lex’s finger caught her chin, lifted it. Softness still touched his voice; she couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes. “Just business, ain’t needing to give nobody the tell, aye? Just giving you the help, me.”

Yeah. Just hide it, don’t ever tell. That would make it all okay. If only. “And that was the only way you could think of to help me out?”

He grinned and became the old Lex again, the one she was used to, jaunty and a bit arrogant. “Nay, but surely were the most fun.”

“Yeah, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

“And you did. Ain’t try the pretend game with me, Tulip. Got experience with you, I do.”

Fuck. She had to get out of there, get away from him, immediately. He was right, and she knew he was right and he knew she knew it, and she couldn’t stand there and see that knowledge on his face and feel it heavy in her heart another second. “I have to get back to work.”

“Aye, sure you do. Gimme the wait here, aye? When you done? Or maybe I wait for you.”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Always got a choice,” he said, and planted a kiss on her forehead. She opened her mouth to reply, but he’d already turned and started walking toward the school building, glancing back to give her a casual wave.

Bastard.

   “Were the same ghost in the gym as the theater, aye,” Vernal told her. They sat in an available office in the Administration section; after the kiss she didn’t want to stay outside. Couldn’t stay outside, where they could all see her. Their gazes burned holes in her back.

But Lex had been right. Vernal had started chattering the second she closed the awful orange door behind her, and had hardly stopped since. Twenty minutes of solid talk; damn that kid could ramble. She wondered how often in his life someone older than him had actually listened to what he had to say for that long a period of time, for any period of time.

But then, Beulah probably did. She’d seemed awfully defensive of him.

“You’re sure it was the same one?”

“Aye. Got a good look, I did. Thought it looked like
that dame, the one offed sheself back in the when. But I ain’t got that solid, dig me, causen I ain’t seen no good images of she.”

Right. She’d wanted to look Lucy McShane’s photos up anyway, hadn’t she? She scribbled that down, adding it to the list of things she needed to look up when she got to Church.
Without
hanging around to spend more time with Lex first. He’d done enough damage for one day. For a week, actually. Hell, for a whole fucking lifetime.

“But definitely a female, and definitely the same ghost?”

“Aye.”

Chess leaned back in the chair behind the desk, a cheap one with a blue fabric seat and a plastic oval to support her back. The whole office was low-budget, from the threadbare rust-colored carpet to the scratched, paint-peeled metal filing cabinets with a couple of broken handles, to the desk so flimsy she was surprised it didn’t bend under the stack of papers sitting on it; it looked like something a six-year-old would put together. Whoever worked in there must not be high on the administrative totem pole at all. “But you said the ghost in the gym came from the bleachers, right? And in the theater it came from the curtains?”

He nodded. Immediately after sitting down he’d plucked a rubber band from a little dish on the desk, and he twirled it between his fingers and around them, the movements almost hypnotic.

But not quite. “And it was daylight outside. Just after school? Or still during school?” Then, at the look on his face, she added, “I don’t care if you were skipping class, that’s nobody’s business and I’m not obligated to tell anybody anything.”

“Were skippin. Theater’s a cool spot for it, got its own ins an outs, big an quiet an all. Gives the privacy, it do.”

“What were you doing on that day, the theater day,
I mean? Just hanging out? One of the administrators thinks you were drinking; not that it matters.”

“Had we a couple,” he said. Flick, stretch, twist, went the rubber band. “Ain’t got aught else to do, not here. They always tryna set we up them activities an shit, sayin keep us off them streets. Bullshit. I ain’t joinin. Ain’t even join Miss Beulah’s.”

“What was Beulah’s activity?”

He shrugged. “Some spuddle on positive changin, an makin shit happen, dig?
Dame
shit. Maia an Jia played she game. I ain’t.”

Maia and Jia had been outside with Herb Paris berries and a firedish. Did Beulah know about that?

“They all gots them groups,” Vernal continued, apparently not noticing her distraction or her raised eyebrows. “Mr. Li tryna get us all joinin too, do some camp-out shit or outdoors or whatany. Wants us playin along, like him our father.”