Scary Cool (The Spellspinners) (5 page)

BOOK: Scary Cool (The Spellspinners)
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“Okay. What do you
think
would happen?”

He really, really didn’t want to tell me this. So I was mildly surprised when he did. “I think it would break the banishment.”

I thought about it.


I bet you’re right. Y
ou can’t touch me
—now
. But
once
I touch you, after that, you’ll be able to
touch me at will.”

His smile was sly and wistful at the same time. “Within reason.”

Heat pulsed
through me, as if my blood had turned to molten metal
. I suddenly wanted to touch him
so bad.

A breeze played with the lock of hair that falls across his forehead
, teasing me
. I wanted to shove my fingers into it and
tuck it back into place.

I wanted to cup his cheek with my palm. I wanted—

I took another deep breath and stepped backward. “Stop putting
thoughts in my head.

He laughed. “It’s all part of the game, babe.”

“It’s cheating
.”

He showed his palms in a sign of surrender. “Okay, okay. We’ll play by your rules.
” Then he grinned. “But mine are more fun.”

I rolled my eyes.
“Look, I can’t hang out here all night. Do you have something to tell me, or don’t you?”

He was suddenly serious. “Yeah. It’s important. Would I
go to all this trouble if it were
n’t?”

“I have no idea what’s ‘trouble’ to you. For all I know,
enrolling at
Cherry Glen
High
is your idea of a good time.”

He didn’t rise to my bait. His
eyes bored into mine, sharp with intensity
. “You’re in danger, Zara. I mean it.”

I al
most laughed
out loud
. “
I’ve been in danger since the day I was born.”

“Not like this.”

He was serious. But so was I. “Lance, all I want is to get through high school, okay? That’s enough of a challenge for me right now.”

“What challenge? High school should be a piece of cake for you.”

“I’m not talking about
schoolwork, and you know it.

“Yeah, babe. I do know it.” He leaned toward me. “Your challenge is getting through without getting caught. Day after day, year after year, surrounded by sticks.
Trying to pretend you’re one of them. Trying to make them believe you’re nothing special.”

“I was doing fine until you came along. You
put
us both in danger by coming here. What
were
you thinking?” I wanted to give him a shove in the chest, but controlled the impulse just in time. “You’ve got a lot of nerve, showing up with
your stupid warning
.
Did the Council send you this time? Or are you acting on your own? Because if the Council sent you, I’m sending you back, and you can give them a message from me—“

We’re not alone.
He sent me the
words
silently, warning me to sh
ut up. The mind-read lock that Lance and I share transmits
the emotion simultaneously with the message, so there’s little room
for misunderstanding
. Usually when somebody tells
you to shut up, you
get mad. In this instance, I
shut up. And sent him a half-formed question:
??

He automatically reached for my hand, but hit the force field again (or whatever you’d call it)
and jerked back
. Nevertheless I followed his lead and we s
lipped silently
into the shadows along the gazebo wall
, moving in perfect sync
. I felt Lance throw a glamour over us, further cloaking us from view.

We
spellspinners
are naturally secretive. I suppose it’s ingrained in us
after
centuries
of witch-burnings and whatever.

I heard the
click-click-click
of a confident stride in
high
heels. The footsteps halted, and I saw her—a slim, leather-clad figure with a glorious mane of thick
shoulder-length
hair, red or brown; I couldn’
t tell in the tricky light, even though she was standing near the lamp post at the end of the gazebo path. She was wearing a pair of elegant stiletto
-heeled
boots and had the lithe, graceful stance of a dancer. She scanned the park, h
er head held high, almost
sniffing the air like an animal. I saw her smile. And then,
click-click-click
, she headed straight toward us.

I had never seen her before. But there was something so feral, so menacing, about her that my heart rate accelerate
d
. I sensed Lance
throwing out more power,
thickening the bla
nket of glamour
he’
d wrapped us in
.
Did that mean we were safe from detection? I
t was awful to just stand there, motionless, while she
bore down on us.

Lance knew her. I picked that up right away. And when she stopped about twenty feet from the gazebo and studied it, an amused little smile on her face,
radiating confidence and power and fell intent,
I realized that she was a
spellspinner
.

Shock slammed
into
me. I didn’t gasp, but my eyes widen
ed and my jaw went
slack. I’d never seen a female
spellspinner
before—well, other than me, of course. In fact, I’d never
met
any
spells
pinner
other than Lance. There are
only fifty of us in the whole world. So seeing this…this…
kinswoman
was almost unbearably exciting. I almost forgot to be afraid of her.

Almost.

“Lance.” Her voice was soft and lilting
. “I know you’re here.”

Her eyes traveled slowly over the gazebo, lingering on t
he steps, the
roofposts
, the aza
leas bunched around its perimeter. A low laugh escaped her. “Come on, Lance. I can practically smell you.”
She walked up to one of the aza
leas and nudged it with the toe of her boot. “Hm.”

If she went all around the gazebo, touching stuff, she’d eventually find us. A glamour makes you look like something else (an azalea bush, for example), but it’s just an illusion. I was afraid to send Lance any of the questions swirling in my mind because I didn’t know what, if anything, the other
spellspinner
could pick up.

Lance sent me a flicker of reassurance.
Just be still.

She can’t ‘hear’ us?

No.

Can you send her away?

No.

Can I?

Don’t!

Which probably means I could. But there wasn’t time to argue the point, especially not in the silent shorthand Lance and I use. I had to return my attention to the threat—for a threat she certainly was. She stood in the middle of the path, frowning now, one
high-heeled
foot tapping with impatience or annoyance. It occurred to me, as a matter of mild interest, that I couldn’t read her the way I read Lance.

“Okay, fine,” she said at last.
“I can wait. You just play your little games
, lover.”
Her tone was clipped
with anger
, but I
caught
the
hint
of a Southern drawl.
And then she vanished.

Lover. She distinctly said ‘lover.’

I felt the glamour lift
, so Lance
must have
thought
the danger had passed
.

Ha
h
. He had no idea.

“Well, well,” I said
, strolling out into the moonlight
. “What an interesting evening this has turned out to be.”

I sensed Lance’s soundless laughter behind me. “I warned you.”

“Not about her. Who is she?


Her name’s
Amber. And she’s the least of your wo
rries.

“Uh-huh. And what would you say is my biggest worry? In your opinion.
By the way, I’m not worried. I’m mad.

I felt him wanting to reach for me again. And I felt him stop himself. “Turn around and look at me.”

I did. He wasn’t laughing any more.

Spellspinners
have different degrees of power. Amber isn’t very powerful.”

“She can
skatch
.
Obviously. Or she’d still be here.”

“Every
spellspinner
can
skatch
. And she’ll get more powerful as time goes on. But
—“

“Here we go again! More stuff you haven’t told me. More secrets.” I jabbed my finger
in his direction
. “Lance, a
s a mentor
, you suck. You’re so busy trying to keep the upper hand
that you keep me completely in the dark.


Calm down.
I know there’s a lot of stuff I haven’t told you.
I’m telling you now.”

I folded my arms across my chest and fixed him with a glare. “I’m listening.”

He sigh
ed. “Power grows as you get older
. That’s why the Council is always comprised of the seven oldest
spellspinners
. They are the most powerful.”

I threw my hands up. “You’d never even told me
that.
I had no idea why the Council had to be
a bunch of senior citizens
.
I can’t believe—“

Lance
continued as if I hadn’t spoken. “But we have different degrees of power to begin with. Power is inherent, and if you’re not born with it, you’ll never have it.
So like I said, Amber is the least of—

A breeze suddenly gusted through the park, rattling the leaves all around us.
He glanced sharply up into the trees. I followed his gaze with my own, but didn’t see anything. “What is it?” I asked. My voice
was pitched
higher than usual.

“Nothing,” he said, but
I knew
he wasn’t convinced it was nothing. “Let’s get out of here.”

Where to?

Anywhere. Foster’s Freeze.

I started to send him
they’re closed,
but he was already gone. Leaving me alone in the dark, with the trees rustling like voices all around me. “Nice,” I said, disgusted. And
skatched
to Foster’s Freeze.

He was waiting for me, sitting on top of one of the metal tables
in the darkest corner of the cement patio
,
silently
laughing. “Of course they’re closed,” he said when I appeared. “I wouldn’t
skatch
here if they were open.

“Right,” I said crossly. “Just don’t ditch me.”
I sat at a safe dista
nce. The metal seat was like ice
. “Now tell me about Amber.”

I sensed his exasperation—and a flash of enjoyment. He thought I was jealous, and he liked that.

Now I was really steamed. I opened my mou
th to say something cutting
, but closed it again. Number one, the madder I got, the more jealous he would think I was. Number two, who was I kidding? Lance was right.
I was jealous.
And he knew he was right. And I knew that he knew he was right. And so on.

Because I hadn’t figured out that I was jealous until it was too late to hide—he’d already seen it.

Sometimes this
wholesoul
thing can really trip you up.


Okay,” I said, resigned. “She called you ‘lover.’ I don’t know why
that got my Irish up, because I totally shouldn’t care.

“Let it go, Zara. She’s called me ‘lover’ since I was twelve years old.” His tone was light.
There was
something dark swirling behind his words, but he hid it from me before I could pull it i
nto focus. “
If you want to get
home
before daybreak, I think you’d better let me speak.”

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