The Spirit Keeper (21 page)

I opened my mouth to protest, but David held up his hand. “Consider it Karma, Sarah. We saw you sneak off. You got what you deserve. You’re just lucky something more serious didn’t happen.”

“Shut up, David!” I snapped.

“Give it a rest, you two,” Meg said. She stood up and fixed me with a glare. “You broke the rules, Sarah. And what did I say about always wearing shoes if you’re going to be traipsing around in the woods?”

“I am
so
not in the mood for this conversation, Meg.” I put my face in my hands, squeezing my eyes shut. “And it’s not like I chose not to wear shoes at all,” I added. “I forgot them at the creek.”

“Forgot them?” Meg said, incredulous. “How does one forget her shoes? Didn’t you realize they weren’t on your feet?”

Tears had begun to leak from the corners of my eyes, which felt like they were being gouged out of their sockets with a spoon. “I was preoccupied.”

“Preoccupied? Sarah, that’s the most—”

“Meg! Forget about the shoes already,” David said. “Can’t you see she’s really not feeling well?”

For once I was grateful David had my back, and I offered him what I knew was a very pitiful smile. Nevertheless, he smiled back.

Meg took a deep breath. “Fine. If it’s those ratty sneakers you usually wear, I guess it doesn’t really matter. I’ve been meaning to buy you a new pair anyway. Did you at least make sure to clean your foot before wrapping it?”

“I’m not an idiot,” I said, my voice muffled from my face being pressed against the couch cushion.

“I didn’t say you were,” Meg said.

She put her hand under my arm and urged me to my feet. “Come on. Get off the couch and go to your bed. You’ll be more comfortable there. If you’ve got that stomach virus, then I’ve got some disinfecting to do.”

Meg managed to get me to my room, even though I felt incredibly weak and had to lean on her heavily. I stood still as she put the back of her hand to my forehead, her expression softening a little. Then she raised her brow and offered a faint smile. Apparently I was forgiven for the shoes, as well as sneaking off. I guess being sick had its advantages.

“I’ll bring you some tea,” she said.

I mumbled my thanks to Meg’s back as she shut the door. Then I changed out of my clothes and into my pajamas before climbing into bed. I turned from my back to my side to my back again, but I just couldn’t get comfortable.

I felt alternately hot and cold and couldn’t decide if I wanted the blankets on or off. I finally settled for just the sheet, but even the weight of the thin material felt rough and much too heavy against my skin.

My entire body felt like it was being squeezed and pounded like a wad of molding clay. I swallowed to gauge any soreness in my throat and was satisfied that at least it felt fine, if not a bit desert-like. If I was going to get sick, at least it was happening while Priscilla was away on vacation.

Meg came back a few minutes later with a mug of hot tea that smelled strongly of ginger, along with a small plate of crackers. “Just in case,” she said.

“Thanks,” I said, even though I wasn’t sure I could stomach either the tea or crackers right then.

Meg went to the window and cracked it open a few inches. A breeze blew in, and even though it was a warm wind, the exposed skin of my arms broke out in goosebumps. I clutched the sheet tighter around my body.

“You felt fine this morning, right?” Meg said. “I can’t believe how suddenly this hit you, but that seems to be the way it is with stomach viruses.”

“I felt fine when I woke up,” I muttered. “It wasn’t until . . .”

My voice broke off.

It wasn’t until Meg pointed out the sudden onset of my symptoms that I considered the possibility I wasn’t coming down with something out of any medical textbook. The truth of the matter was I’d felt fine up until the moment Shyla lobbed that ball of fire at me and knocked me off my feet. I thought the singed hem of my t-shirt, now hidden away in my drawer, and bruised ego had been the worst of it. But maybe not.

“What’s wrong,” Meg said, a sudden look of panic on her face. She snatched the garbage can and held it out to me. “Are you going to throw up?”

I swallowed hard and covered my face with my hands. I kept thinking I should tell Meg what happened, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit out loud that I had really messed up this time. 

“I’m just really tired,” I said instead. “I’ll feel better after I’ve had a nap.”

Meg didn’t look at all convinced, but she nodded anyway. “Turn over. I’ll massage your shoulders.”

I turned on my side to face the wall so that Meg could massage my shoulders, but more so I wouldn’t have to look her in the face. Thinking how I had betrayed her trust made my heart clench in my chest until I was sure it would stop beating altogether.

I’d lied to Meg and David, the two people in this world who loved me more than anyone. I should never have gotten involved with Adrian, I thought bitterly. None of this would have happened if only I’d listened to my aunt and uncle. I had made the mistake of getting caught up in my feelings, and I’d let myself get too close to him. But it was too late now. Even if he genuinely cared for me, there were others who didn’t.

I closed my eyes as tears scalded a path down my cheeks, and I concentrated on taking slow, deep breaths so I wouldn’t start an all-out cry-fest. If Meg saw how upset I was and asked me what was wrong, I was afraid I’d break down and tell her the truth. And the truth was something I couldn’t face at the moment.

But when I opened my eyes again, Meg was gone. I rolled to my back to find the room bathed in the pale light of a full moon, and I realized I’d fallen asleep. I held my breath as I listened for other sounds in the house, but all I heard was silence.

A sudden movement from the corner of the room had me bolting upright in bed. The pounding in my head flared, and I collapsed against my pillow, not caring at that moment if I was about to be murdered. Even death would have been a relief compared to the dagger-like pain behind my eyes.

But I only felt a warm touch on my arm. “It’s okay. It’s me.”

I squinted in the darkness, the blurriness beginning to recede as my vision returned to normal. Relief flooded through me. “Adrian.”

The bedside lamp clicked on, and I blinked like an owl, shielding my eyes with my hand. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.

“How did you get in here?”

“Your window was open.”

I frowned and pulled the sheet tighter around me. “That’s really creepy. Maybe climbing through girls’ windows is how you show your romantic side,” I said with a grimace, putting my hand to my head, “but I’d rather you show up at the front door with a bouquet of flowers. And you know if my aunt or uncle catches you in here, they’ll kill you.”

Adrian shook his head, looking amused. “I’ll take my chances.” Then his face fell into a scowl as he got a closer look at my face. “What’s wrong?”

The intensity of his voice grabbed me by the throat and squeezed. I wanted to say that nothing was wrong, that I was fine, but we both knew I wasn’t. I reached out to take his hand, and he flinched at my touch.

“You’re burning up,” he said. He yanked his hand free as though I’d scalded him. He began pacing the space in front of my bed. “This is bad. This is
really
bad. I’m gonna kill her.”

“Kill who?” I asked, even though I knew perfectly well who he was talking about.

Adrian stopped his pacing and sat down on the edge of the bed. “I can’t believe it,” he said. “I didn’t want to believe that she . . .”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence in order for me to understand exactly what he was trying to say. “Shyla did this to me.”

He ran his hand through his hair. “You are seriously burning up,” he said. Then he nodded as though he’d made up his mind. “That’s it. I’m going to get Meg.”

Adrian was on his feet in one swift movement and had his hand already on the doorknob when I lunged for him, completely ignoring the pain in my head. I was overcome by a sudden feeling of vertigo, and I fell to the floor with my arms wrapped awkwardly around his waist. He stumbled, nearly falling to his knees.

“Sarah! What—?”

“Please don’t,” I said, even as I fought back the sweeping darkness. “They can’t know. I’ve kept too many secrets from them, and . . . they just can’t find out, okay?”

Adrian looked down at me, his hand still on the door, clearly unsure about what to do. With a sigh, he put one arm around my back and the other underneath the crook of my knees, scooping me up and cradling me against his chest as though I weighed nothing at all. He put me back in my bed and pulled the sheet up over my legs.

“What did she do, Adrian?” I could feel my strength ebbing, and my voice came out as barely a whisper.

Adrian sat on the bed next to me. His eyes were wide, the whites of them red with an apparent lack of sleep. “I don’t know exactly, but I know it wasn’t good. The fire. It looked different somehow. Not like regular fire, you know? It was all bright blue and reddish. Kind of swirly.”

“I know,” I said, only just then remembering. At the time, I’d been too freaked out about the searing heat to register that the flames hadn’t been the normal flickers of fire. There’d definitely been an eerie, supernatural quality to them.

“After you ran away,” he said, “Shyla took off. I ran after her, but I lost her in the woods. I’ve been trying to find her ever since. She’s not answering her cell.”

“She’s not at your Gran’s?”

“I haven’t called Gran yet,” Adrian said, an odd note to his voice. He didn’t say anything more about the subject. In any event, I didn’t care where Shyla was, as long as she stayed far away from me.

“Why did you come here?”

Adrian stroked the hair away from my forehead. His fingers traced a path along the side of my face, curving around the back of my neck until his hand was cradling the base of my skull.

“Because I had to see for myself,” he said. He lowered his eyes before adding, “And because I was afraid.”

My hand snaked up to rest on his where it cupped the back of my head. Our eyes locked, and he seemed to freeze in that moment. My voice shook when I spoke. “I
am
afraid. Whatever Shyla did to me, Adrian . . . I don’t feel right.”

He leaned down and kissed me then, a gentle caress of his lips against mine. I locked my hands around the back of his neck and held him tight against me, needing the reassurance and security of his touch.

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said at last. “I’ll find my sister, and I’ll figure out how to fix this. I swear I will.”

I closed my eyes and released my grip on him, wanting above all else to believe what he was saying. But all I managed in response was, “My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

“I’ll get you something,” he said, rising to his feet. “Tylenol in the bathroom?”

I rolled to my side so that I was facing away from him, not wanting him to see my face contorting in pain. “Do you honestly think it will help?”

I heard Adrian’s soft sigh and a moment later felt his hand on my back. “I promise you I’ll figure this out,” he whispered. The bed shifted under his weight as he sat down again. “Close your eyes. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

“Then I never want to sleep,” I said with a jaw-cracking yawn that nearly split my head in two. “Oh, God. That really hurt.”

Adrian’s touch on my head was feather-soft. “Go to sleep.”

I opened my eyes to the hazy gray light of early morning, and the first thing I saw was David sitting at the foot of my bed with his back propped against the wall. Though his eyes were wide open, his face was devoid of all expression. He held his fisted hands in his lap and stared unblinking at the opposite wall, not realizing I was awake.