Witch & Curse (19 page)

“No black Mercedes,” Kari finally said.

He had come to check on the Anderson women, Marie-Claire in particular. It did not bode well that her Mercedes was not there to pick up her girls.

If they killed her last night, found another way . .
.

“Are you sure about this, bro?” Eddie asked him gently. “Maybe she really did have a car problem.”

Jer closed his eyes and silently intoned a Finder's Spell. Seconds later, Kialish said, “She's in a different car.”

Jer opened his eyes; sure enough, a black Jeep Explorer had pulled to the curb and Marie-Claire Cathers-Anderson was stepping from the driver's side. She hurried into the front entrance of the school just as the bell rang. Students began spilling from the wood-trimmed glass double doors.

Kari pulled her dark brown leather coat around herself and snuggled up to Jer. She said, “You don't really think your family would try to hurt someone, do you? And why her?”

You have no idea
, he thought. He was conflicted, knowing that he needed help to work against his family,
not sure that he should have gone to Kari. Even Eddie and Kialish were question marks. Shamanic magic was more about the journey of the psyche; his family's magic—Black Magic—was about getting what you wanted, no matter who it hurt.

“She looks okay, man.”

Kari's arm tightened around Jer's waist. She snuggled up to him. She was loving all this; she had been an animal in bed last night, after he had set the bush on fire.

That's what's supposed to happen
, he thought bitterly,
according to my brother. Magic and six-pack abs will get you the chicks
.

“I need to be alone,” he said abruptly. “I need to prepare.”

“Prepare,” Kari said slowly.

He nodded and pulled away from her. She looked hurt. He didn't care; he really couldn't find it within himself. If
she
cared for anyone in this equation, it was she herself. It was all a game to her, something she wanted to learn about, be able to do herself. But help someone? Protect someone? She hadn't made that leap.

I shouldn't have gotten her involved in this
, he thought. But he needed a male-female connection to make
some of the magic he was planning to do.

He looked back down the hill, easily singling out Holly and Amanda—but not Nicole—as Marie-Claire escorted them back out of the school, moving her hands like a hummingbird's.

She looks so tired
, Jer thought of Holly.
So sad
.

As she, her aunt, and Amanda made their way down Hill High's steps to the rental—her aunt's Mercedes was in the shop, awaiting a brake inspection—Holly heard the screech of a bird. Startled, she looked up, losing track of what her aunt was saying.

A black bird hovered about twenty feet above her, staring down at her. Even from this distance, she could see the sharp, curved beak, the taloned claws . . . and the eyes.

They seemed to stare at her . . .
glare
at her, Amanda, and Marie-Claire.

Unnoticed by her chattering cousin and her aunt, Holly took a step back. Her line of vision ticked downward.

Jer
.

He stood on the hill across the street, a girl clinging to him, and two guys with him. The others were watching the bird.

Jer was watching her.

She went hot. She swallowed, looking away, wondering what he was doing there.

“Amanda,” she said quietly, “Amanda, look.”

“ . . . with Tommy in chemistry!” Amanda said, laughing.

“Oh, my goodness,” Aunt Marie-Claire replied, looking at Holly. “Mr. Boronski will have his hands full. Well, it's nice you both had a good day. Now where did I put the rental key?”

Above them, the bird cawed once, then flapped its large wings and flew away.

Holly glanced at her aunt and said, “I'm sorry, what?”

On the hill, Jer and the others turned and began to walk away. Holly tugged on Amanda's sleeve and gestured with her head.

Amanda looked up at the hill. She saw, glanced at Holly, and murmured, “That's Kari with him.”

Marie-Claire had missed the whole thing. She smiled and said, “Here it is!” and showed them the key on a chain with a plastic badge that read,
SEATTLE
'
S
#1
BRAKE SHOP
.

“And we're off, home again, safe and sound,” she said.

Holly climbed into the car.

“That was a falcon,” Kialish said as Jer and the others left the hill and headed for their cars. “Your totem.”

Jer looked around the circle. They were an odd bunch to be starting a secret coven, weren't they? The few, the proud, the sweat lodgers. Would there be enough power here on which he could draw in his quest to protect Marie-Claire? He could only hope.

“I want you to learn,” he finally answered. “Open your minds and your hearts, and help me.” For a moment he found himself unable to meet their gazes. “My family's heritage is . . . more extreme than I've let any of you know. Eli and my dad, they're . . .” He looked down at the fire. Kari gave his hand a squeeze.

“They are so evil,” he whispered finally. “I can't tell you very much. I'm . . . bound . . . but I will not be a part of their . . .
plans
” —he nearly spit the word out— “when they want to hurt people. What they do otherwise is not for me to decide, but I can't allow my father and my brothers to hurt anyone. I
won't
.”

His friends looked at one another, but no one said anything for a long moment. “All right, bro,” Eddie said finally.

Kialish cleared his throat. “We should go back to see my dad.”

“I'm not sure,” Jer said. He had been deliberating
about that. “This magic is very different from your father's. It's more ruthless and vicious. We've always known that. Always talked about it.”

“Then he can help us find us new ways to fight it,” Kialish insisted.

That was true. Jer inclined his head and said, “All right. You're right. Tonight we need to meet, to bind ourselves together, in blood. It's an old ritual and it will establish us as a Coven.” He looked around the group. “Think about that. You are going to become a Coven of the Art. Once I initiate you, you're bound to loyalty to our Coven. And to me, as your master.”

Eddie and Kialish nodded, both looking very sober. They knew this was an important moment.

“And then you'll teach us,” Kari said, her eyes shining with excitement.

Jer's heart was very heavy. She still thought this was all a game. “Yes, I'll teach you.”

He prayed that the lessons he had to teach were not painful.

Or fatal
.

NINE

SEED MOON

House of Deveraux arise
Take your vengeance to the skies
Let the world feel your ire
Paint the moon with black fire

Time to scheme and plant the seeds
Of distrust and dishonesty
Take the souls whom we have marked
Make them ours mind and heart

Things changed.

The dreams faded, and Holly slept better at night. No Jer Deveraux showed up on her radar, but she firmly consigned him to her “settling-in phase” and wondered a little about Tommy Nagai . . . except the guy was obviously set on snagging Amanda. And Amanda had no clue, wouldn't even believe it when Holly would try to tell her about it.

“We are oldest, bestest friends,” Amanda told her. “You're misinterpreting him.”

Holly began to wonder if Amanda was afraid to like Tommy more intensely than she already did; if that would make him go away or stop liking her. She understood that kind of fear; she'd been there herself.

Holly began to feel at home in Seattle. She found things to like—one of them being that Seattle was a hip, sophisticated place like San Francisco. The kids were quick and smart; they shared the same kind of shorthand as back home. It was good to be well-read and ambitious. One got points for expanded horizons and broad cultural experiences.

It rained, but then, it had rained a lot in San Francisco. Holly learned to carry an umbrella with the same consistency that she carried a purse. So did Amanda, who “trained” her, reminding her constantly, “Don't forget your umbrella. Do you have your umbrella?”

Nicole, though, never wore a raincoat or carried an umbrella. She preferred the more theatrical style of running and screaming through the rain and tearing off her clothes the second she came home and heading straight for a hot shower. This abandon at times sent Amanda, Holly's former dour, Nicole-despising cousin, into spasms of good-natured revulsion—something that had developed over time, after Holly came to live there.

I've been here six weeks and they're both so different. So happy. It's like magic
.

“What's wrong with you?” Amanda would demand, laughing. “You hedonistic, barbaric moron!”

Nicole would just wad up one of her ever-present midriff-baring tees and throw it at her. “You're just jealous you don't look as good as I do.”

“Please.”

Holly loved the changes in them both. They were more relaxed around each other. In fact, hanging with Amanda and Nicole had begun to prove sisterhood could be more than powerful, it could be liberating and fun. The terrible loneliness began to recede, although the ache of losing her parents was still as fresh as the day it had happened. But just being there, rain or no rain, faintly erased the fierce emptiness of facing the future. Her cousins could make her laugh when she really felt like an all-night cry session watching Jay Leno or David Letterman, switching back and forth until she made herself crazy. Bast and her cousins' cats were adorable too, always popping up when she needed their sweet, furry selves, sleek and ready to be played with.

Amanda was happy, Nicole was friendly, and Holly was beginning to believe that she had a place here.

Family
.

Nicole kept urging her to tell Bast her secrets and to “help you get a guy.” As they lay around in Nicole's room, where Holly was now more welcome and which was decorated in black with silver moons, a lot of theater posters and a signed picture of Winona Ryder, Nicole wrinkled up her nose, as if to take the sting out of what she said next.

“Just don't make it Eli. We're going to make a new life once we're released from prison.”

“Eli. Ugh,” Amanda said. “Let's don't go there. And on that note, I'm going to bed.”

“I should too,” Holly said.

As she slid off the bed, Bast trotted in. Hecate wriggled out of Nicole's arms, leaped off the bed, and joined her. They touched noses, then turned and sauntered out of the room together.

“They've probably gone off to plan your future,” Nicole said to Holly. “Well, g'night.” She smiled at her sister as well as her cousin.

“Don't make us late in the morning,” Amanda warned Nicole as she, too, got up to leave. “And don't hog the bathroom.”

“Moi?”
Nicole fluttered her lashes.

Amanda gave her a look.

In the hallway, Amanda rolled her eyes. She said, “God, she drives me crazy. Just watch, she'll make us
late.” She shrugged and smiled, and Holly saw that the sting and hurt that had once haunted her cousins' relationship were still gone. “If you do pray to your cat tonight, beg her to make Nicole ready on time. If I get one more tardy in P.E., my grade's going to be lowered.”

“How embarrassing,” Holly empathized.

“How stupid. I won't get into a good school if my G.P.A. is down, and I won't have it happen over running around like a fool for forty-five minutes in thirtydegree weather.” She made a face. “I should have caught on early, like Nicole. Taken modern dance.”

Holly made a face. “I'm not big on pretending I'm a dancing tree.”

Amanda laughed. “Well, it just gives her another reason to demand everybody's attention.” She said it good-naturedly. “And on that happy note,
bonne nuit
, as we say around here.”