The Hunt (2 page)

“No. But it is something that belonged to Black John.”

Adam's posture straightened at the sound of Black John's name and he sat icily still.

“I have his Book of Shadows,” Cassie said.

She watched Adam's expression turn from apprehensive to excited. “Are you serious?” he shouted. “Do you realize how much we can learn from that book?”

“There's more,” Cassie said, before Adam could get carried away. “When I opened it, it was like the book turned against me, like it was alive in my hands. Just like when the Master Tools backfired on me when I was battling Scarlett.”

Adam nodded, remembering how the Tools had obeyed Scarlett's black magic. They'd singed Cassie's skin just before they unhinged themselves from her body and flew at Scarlett's outstretched hands. “That explains the burns,” he said. “But what's the connection between the two?”

“I think the book is spelled,” Cassie said. “Something to prevent the wrong people from getting a hold of it. But it wasn't like I could read it anyway. It's written in some ancient language I've never seen before. It doesn't even look like words.”

“We should have Diana search her Book of Shadows for information.” Adam immediately went into strategizing mode. “There must be a way to break the book's spell. And we can all start researching the language. There's a chance it could be Sumerian, or even cuneiform. Black John's ancestors would go back that far.”

“Adam,” Cassie interrupted him. “Remember you agreed we could keep this between us?”

Adam's face dropped. He looked away momentarily. “But that was before I knew what it was.”

“I'm sorry,” Cassie said. “But I need to understand more of what this is before involving the rest of the Circle. This is about me and my father.”

“It's a pretty big deal.” Adam's voice hit that pitch it always did when he was exasperated. “We have to tell the Circle eventually.”

“I know,” Cassie said as gently as she could. She reminded herself that Adam's passion and perseverance were her favorite things about him. “I just need a little time.”

She fiddled with the few strands of reddish-brown hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. “For now, let this be our secret.”

Adam nodded, realizing he was pushing too hard. “Okay. But in the meantime I want to help in any way I can. I'll do research, whatever you need. Just name it.”

Cassie felt her shoulders settle. “Thank you,” she said, reaching out to him. “For now, all I need is your support.”

“Always.” Adam brought Cassie's injured hand to his warm lips and kissed it.

“I also need a chocolate glazed donut from Sprinkles,” Cassie added.

“Your wish is my command.” Adam leaned in, met Cassie's lips with his own, and kissed her without restraint. It felt good, and it felt right. Maybe there was hope for this day yet.

Cassie was sitting in third-period history debating between
(a) the Continental Congress and (b) the House of Representatives on her pop quiz, when a hall monitor came to the door and handed Ms. Darby a pink slip of paper.

“Laurel,” Ms. Darby said. “Mr. Boylan wants to see you in his office right away.”

Cassie's head shot up. She couldn't allow Laurel to be alone with the principal. He was a witch hunter, and Laurel had been marked.

Laurel looked at Cassie and then back at Ms. Darby. “But I haven't finished my test yet.”

“You can make it up after school,” Ms. Darby said. “The principal wouldn't call you out of class unless it was important.”

Laurel hesitated.

“Go on.” Ms. Darby pointed to the doorway. “If you're in trouble for something, standing here and keeping him waiting surely won't help matters any.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Laurel said.

Cassie watched her fearfully gather her books. What could she do to stop her?

Laurel handed her exam in to Ms. Darby and obediently followed the monitor out the door, glancing over her shoulder at Cassie one last time.

There were no other Circle members in class, so it was up to Cassie to do something. One way or another, she had to get herself into the principal's office. Laurel's life could be at stake.

Cassie quickly scribbled in the remaining empty blanks on her exam, and then rushed up to the front of the room.

“I'm done, Ms. Darby.” She held her side and bit her lip. “And I'm not feeling so well. May I go to the nurse?”

Ms. Darby eyed Cassie, trying to discern if she was faking.

Cassie swallowed hard, cleared her throat, and leaned forward like she might puke right on Ms. Darby's desk.

“Go,” Ms. Darby said, and Cassie bolted for the hallway.

She ran the whole way, ignoring multiple commands from teachers telling her to slow down, and arrived at the principal's office panting. Immediately, she could feel an energy in the air—something dark and morose. The door to Mr. Boylan's office was closed.

“Hi there, Cassie. What can I do for you?” asked Mrs. Karol, the perpetually rosy-cheeked office secretary.

“There's an emergency,” Cassie said, catching Mrs. Karol by surprise. “In the gymnasium. A fight or something, I'm not sure, but people were screaming for someone to get the principal right away.”

“Not again.” Mrs. Karol scooted off her seat and hurried over to the principal's door. She knocked on it anxiously while turning the knob to let herself in.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, “but I think we've got a brawl on our hands, down in the gymnasium.”

Mr. Boylan jerked backward, away from Laurel, the moment the door opened. He patted down his salt-and-pepper hair and straightened his gray suit. “I'm a little busy here.”

He backpedaled to his desk and grabbed a pen and
manila folder, presumably to appear more official. “And how many times have I told you, you can't just barge into my office like that.”

“Don't you snap at me,” Mrs. Karol said, with her bright smile fully intact. “It's not my fault your students behave like wild animals.” She entered the room and took him by the elbow of his finely tailored jacket. “Now hurry up. You're the only one who can handle this.”

Cassie spotted Laurel seated across from Mr. Boylan's large oak desk. She waved at her to try to catch her attention, but Laurel was entirely oblivious to everything going on around her. She was as pale as a ghost, and her eyes were focused on an invisible spot in front of her.

With a huff, Mr. Boylan followed Mrs. Karol toward the gymnasium. “Let's make this quick,” he said, and then noticed Cassie for the first time.

“I won't be long,” he called out to Laurel, while focusing directly on Cassie. “We'll pick up right where we left off when I return. You can count on it.”

It sounded like a threat aimed at them both. Cassie shuddered at the thought of what she might have walked in on if she'd arrived only a few minutes later.

Laurel still hadn't moved a muscle, even after the principal and Mrs. Karol were out of sight. Cassie ran to her
and shook her by her thin, delicate shoulders. “Are you all right? What did he do to you?”

Laurel's face slowly came back to life, and she finally noticed Cassie standing there. “We have to get out of here,” she said, and leapt from her seat to run for the door.

Cassie grabbed her by the hand and led her down the hall to the science wing. “Steer clear of the gymnasium,” she said, as she maneuvered Laurel in the opposite direction. It was only a matter of time before Mr. Boylan realized there wasn't any fight. “We need a place to hide. At least until the bell rings.”

Down the wing, there was an unlocked supply closet. Cassie guided Laurel inside and closed the door behind them.

“It smells like formaldehyde in here,” Laurel said.

Cassie didn't have the heart to alert Laurel, an avid animal lover, to the jarred pig fetus directly behind her. “You're right, it does,” was all Cassie said, and then pulled Laurel in for a hug. “I'm just glad you're okay.”

Among countless shelves of glass beakers and safety goggles, Laurel let herself cry and explained how Mr. Boylan had been interrogating her, trying to find out information about her friends.

“He was asking me about everyone in the Circle by
name,” Laurel said. “And he was asking about our families. He knows we're all witches, Cassie, and he wants to mark every one of us.”

Cassie was gradually putting the pieces together. “Then we absolutely can't perform magic until we figure out how to stop him.”

Laurel's eyes welled up with tears again.

“You're okay now,” Cassie assured her. “And you're not alone. We're going to figure out a way to save you. I promise.”

“How? We are in over our heads, Cassie. This isn't like anything we've ever faced before.” Laurel started to cry so furiously Cassie was afraid someone in the hallway would hear them. “I don't want to die,” she said.

“
Shh
. Nobody is going to die.” Cassie lowered her own voice to a whisper. “I've been talking to my mom about my father. Just last night in fact. And I'm learning things, Laurel. Ancient things that will help us.”

Laurel's sobbing quieted and she wiped the tears from her rosy cheeks. “Really?” she asked.

“Really. When my father was young he saved a friend of my mother's who had been marked. I know it can be done.”

“And you think you can figure out how he did it?”

“I know I can,” Cassie said. She said everything she could think of to try to help Laurel calm down, but in her mind she feared they were running out of time. She had to do something about this—and her father's book—before the hunters picked them off one by one.

Pink and white banners advertising the spring dance hung on
all four walls of the school cafeteria. On a different day, or maybe in a different life, Cassie would have been excited for the dance. But this afternoon's lunch was going to be all business. Suzan arrived a few minutes after the others and dropped her tray on the table with enthusiasm, seemingly oblivious to the group's mood. “Is it that time already? We have to go shopping before all the good dresses disappear.”

“Is that seriously what's on your mind right now?” Melanie said, her mouth half full. “A stupid dance?”

Suzan crossed her arms over her cerulean blouse. “We're supposed to act normal, right? So we don't seem suspicious to the principal or anyone else. I'm just acting normal.”

“You can act however you want, as long as you don't perform any magic,” Cassie announced. “The principal knows who we are. We confirmed that this morning.”

Suzan took a seat between Faye and Deborah. “Oh.” She pushed her tray away dejectedly. “Nobody told me. I'm always the last to know everything.”

Cassie looked around the table at her friends. Of course the hunters had figured them out. Not only were they always together, but none of them seemed average, even when they were alone. Adam and Nick, the Henderson brothers, and even Sean carried themselves with a pride and independence that set them apart from other guys at school. Their fellow students were terrified and awestruck by them. It was no different for the girls. Diana was the most admired, and Faye the most feared—but Laurel, Melanie, Deborah, and Suzan were no less intriguing to their classmates. Something about them sparkled. They were unlike all the other girls in school; their problems were so much larger than boys and clothes. It was stupid
of Cassie to assume any of them could have remained unrecognized by the hunters.

“After what happened earlier today,” Diana said quietly, “school is no longer safe for those of us who've been marked.” She'd directed the comment at Laurel, but Laurel just played with her sandwich, not eating and not looking up. Cassie had never seen her this depressed, even when the hunters first burned their symbol onto her front lawn.

Faye also pretended not to hear Diana's warning. She refused to acknowledge that she'd been marked at all. Cassie noticed she was still wearing the opal necklace Max had given her, the one he'd stamped with the hunter symbol.

“You can take that off,” Cassie said, pointing to the necklace. “You don't have to keep wearing it like some kind of scarlet letter.”

Faye shook her head. “I'm not about to let on that I know about the mark. He's not the only one who can pretend to be someone he's not.”

Deborah nodded, pointing her plastic fork at Faye like a spear. “You should give him a taste of his own medicine. Max played you, and now you have to turn it around on him.”

“There he is.” Sean shifted his beady eyes across the cafeteria toward Max, and Faye quickly applied a fresh coat of red gloss to her lips.

“Do you honestly think revenge is the best idea right now?” Diana asked. “We've already had one close call with a hunter today. We don't need another.”