Chapter Ten
I slept in a guest room that night. Cynthie was powerful but I wasn't confident enough in her abilities to construct a protective circle to sleep in the same room as a trapped demon.
When I cracked open the door of my bedroom the next morning, I expected to see disaster. At the very least, an angry imp ready to jump out at me, teeth bared. The lit candles holding the circle together would have certainly gone out at some point in the night.
I peered around the doorframe. Everything was in its place—bed still neatly made and gossamer curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open window. The floorboard had been scrubbed clean, no evidence of the chalk circle remained. The demon was gone.
My mother worked quickly. The idea of a demon rampaging through her house must have seemed entirely unseemly. Trust Leonora Wayward to know the mechanics of banishing a hell-creature back to the netherworld.
With a sigh of relief, I closed the door quickly behind me. That had not been something I looked forward to dealing with on my own.
Of course, that meant my mother had been in my room. What if she found the journal?
I rushed to the bed and knelt. My hands ran over the wooden floor underneath it, searching for the board that sat slightly higher than the others. I pried it up and slipped my fingers inside the small space.
When I felt the leather cover, relief shivered through me. I sat back on the floor and hugged it to my chest. I couldn't leave it here.
My schoolbag lay next to me on the passenger seat as I drove to school. The grimoire was tucked inside. I thrummed with awareness of it, as if another being sat with me in the car.
I couldn't keep it. The temptation to plumb its secrets was too great for me to resist. But, I couldn't give it back to Cynthie. Goddess only knew what she'd do with it.
Like just thinking of her was an incantation, Cynthie waited in front of the gate when I pulled into the school parking lot. As always, Noelle and Jade stood behind her like living shadows.
Still sitting in my the car, I pulled the backpack onto my shoulders. The book inside pressed reassuringly against my back.
Cynthie watched me approach. They stood in the opening of the gate, blocking my path. When it became clear none of them had any attention of moving, I stopped and crossed my arms over my chest.
"Problem at the O.K Corral?" I asked, my voice dry.
After a long moment, she finally spoke. "Did you have fun last night, Helena?"
"Fun probably isn't the right word." I said cheerfully.
I sidestepped and pushed past Jade, forcing her to move aside or be run over. Jade raised an eyebrow but stepped back. All three followed me up the steps.
"I think I left some stuff over at your house." Cynthie hurried to catch up with me.
"Really?" I asked over my shoulder, forcing myself to sound casual. "Like what?"
"Some candles and maybe a few bunches of sage," she replied, just as nonchalant. "Would you mind if I swung by your place after school to take a look."
"I would love it so much." We entered the main building. I stopped at my locker and spun the combination, enjoying myself immensely. "But no. I'm busy." I grabbed a stack of books without looking at them.
"Busy with what?" she asked sharply.
My hand froze on the locker door. In the euphoria of cutting Cynthie down a peg or two, I may have let myself get carried away. The grimoire burned into my back, its presence impossible to ignore.
"Who are you, my social secretary?" I forced myself to laugh airily. "I'm just busy. Drop it."
Cynthie's smile was predatory. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you had something to hide."
"Don't be silly," I said quickly. My mind cast around frantically for an excuse. If Cynthie showed up at the house, she'd know for certain that I was hiding the grimoire and probably succeed in taking it back. "It's a little embarrassing."
Cynthie took a step closer, the light in her eyes feral. "Do tell."
I took a deep breath, my mind running frantically. "I have a date."
The flare of shock in Cynthie's eyes was almost worth it, but only for a minute.
"A date," Noelle broke in, her voice incredulous. "But what about—"
"That's great." Cynthie cut her off with a sharp glance. She smirked at me. "Who's the lucky guy?"
"The guy?" I repeated slowly.
"Yes," Cynthie said, raising an eyebrow. "It is a guy, right?"
"Of course," I said quickly. I probably should have seen this coming. I cursed my constant inability to think before speaking. "It's really kind of personal."
Jade ran her fingernails down the wall of lockers and I winced at the sound. When she spoke, her voice was low and smooth like steel dipped in chocolate. "Friends don't keep secrets."
She stared at me with empty eyes. I was instantly reminded of the old adage about friends and enemies and staying the hell away from both of them. Jade stood separated from the rest of the group, leaning casually against the locker bay like a coiled snake. I wondered if even Cynthie knew what to expect from her.
I faced them like a firing squad. Cynthie gave me the calculating stare of a hunter spying injured prey. Jade casually inspected her fingernails as if nothing we said was of the least bit of interest. Noelle stood behind them, her smile cunning and oblivious.
My arm came up of its volition and pointed down the hall at the only other person besides us, who hadn't disappeared into class at the tardy bell—Zachary Yarrow. He was at his locker, rifling through the messy stack of papers shoved haphazardly inside.
"Him?" Noelle laughed.
"Who is that?" Cynthie asked, her face twisted as if a bad smell wafted under her nose.
"Some loser," Noelle said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Who cares, anyway?"
"You always did have interesting taste, Helena." Jade's expression was unreadable as she spoke.
"His name is Zachary Yarrow." I inched carefully towards the door for History. I prayed this would be enough for them to let it go. "We have first period together."
"He's a junior," Noelle cut in, disgust written all over her face. "That's gross."
"Zach's a senior." We may have only been fake-dating but I still had to defend him. "He's just making up US History."
Jade suddenly stood up straight and began walking down the hall towards Zach. "Let's have some fun," she said softly.
"Wait," I called desperately as the other girls followed Jade down the deserted hallway. "We're going to be late."
Cynthie glanced back over her shoulder. "We care?"
I looked through the window of the classroom door. Mr. Biggs faced the board as he wrote with furious intent. A cloud of chalk dust formed a halo around his head. I caught Sam's eye with a quick wave and she gestured frantically at the clearly visible wall clock.
It was tempting. I could quietly sneak into the classroom and take my seat. As long as I spent the rest of the day avoiding Cynthie and her cronies. I could even hide in my locker during class changes, if absolutely necessary.
Of course, that also meant leaving Zach at their mercy with no witnesses. Not a pretty thought.
I was relatively sure that none of them would actually hurt Zach, we were in school after all. Then again, I remembered a story my mother used to tell me about my brother Marco's fourth grade teacher. The woman had a psychotic break after claiming the classroom was filled with diseased rats and venomous snakes that no one else could see. She ran screaming from the room and never taught school again.
I threw Sam an apologetic smile and chased down the hallway after them.
Zach saw us coming but showed little reaction. He kneeled in front of a locker, methodically stacking his books on the floor. He glanced up briefly as Jade approached, but turned back to what he was doing.
"Running late, Yarrow?" she asked softly.
The restrained coldness in her voice sent a chill running through me but Zachary responded dispassionately. "I have a pass."
"We're not th
e police," Cynthie said with a broad smile. "Actually, we wanted to congratulate you. Helena told us the good news."
Zach looked warily from one face to another. He was surrounded on all sides and still knelt on the ground. He glanced at my face for a moment but looked away. "What are you talking about?" He asked finally.
"Don't play coy," Noelle said. She kneeled, coiling next to him on the floor with a movement lithe like a cat's. Her face pressed very close to his. "We know all about your date tonight," she breathed throatily. "It's so cute."
"What—" He trailed off as he caught sight of my frantic signaling over Cynthie's shoulder. Please, I mouthed. My hands pressed together against my chest in mock prayer.
"What about it?" Zach finished dully.
"We wanted to introduce ourselves." Cynthie's voice was smooth as melted butter. "We're all friends now, right?"
He stood, several books in his arms, and regarded her levelly. "I know who you are," he said with a small smile. "I'm late for class."
"We have something for you," Noelle called in a sweet voice. She approached him slowly, her smile wide and innocent. A card appeared in her hand in a movement too quick to follow. She could pass it off as good sleight-of-hand but there was nothing hidden up her sleeves.
Her hand stretched towards him and I could see she held a dime-store tarot card. "I tell fortunes. Here."
Zach took the card without looking at it. "Thanks," he said with a bemused look on his face.
"My pleasure," Noelle purred in a seductive whisper. "See you around." She turned and followed the other girls down the hall. Before turning the corner, she gave me a not-so-subtle wink.
I sighed in relief and turned back to Zach with an apologetic smile. "Thanks. They can be brutal." I needed to get out of the hallway as soon as possible, before I drowned in a sea of my own embarrassment. "See you later."
His voice stopped me before I could take a step.
"I don't think so."
I turned around slowly. "What?"
"I have a week of detention for being late because of that stunt you pulled yesterday?" He hefted the books higher in his arms and regarded me sourly. "Now you've got me covering for you with your squad of bitchy friends. You're like a psycho ex-girlfriend and we've never even dated."
"I did say I was sorry," I said lamely.
"That's great," he replied sarcastically. "For a while there, I actually thought you might be a really cool girl." He pointed fiercely down the hallway where the others had disappeared. "But, you're just like them. It doesn't matter who you hurt as long as you get what you want."
Maybe I really was no better than them. I didn't hurt Zach on purpose, but I took what I wanted from him when I needed it. Was that really any different?
"You're wrong," I said softly.
Zach shrugged as if it didn't matter one way or the other. "I'm late. I need to go."
The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them. "Let me make it up to you."
He turned back with a grimace. "This should be good."
"Let's go out," I said, pushing the words out before I had time to regret them.
He raised an eyebrow.
"My treat," I added quickly. "Anywhere you want. Just name it."
"You think I want to go out with you?" He asked with a forced laugh.
"Probably not, but I feel bad. Really." I shrugged. "Worst case, you can hit me up for a free dinner and the entertainment of your choice. What do you say?"
"I'll think about it." He turned away, hefting the stack of books higher in his arms.
"Wait," I said again, something occurring to me. "Can I see what Noelle gave you?"
He dug in his pocket and produced the wrinkled tarot card. "Some joke."
I smoothed the thick card between my fingers and turned it over to see the face.
The Hanged Man.
"You know what it's supposed to mean?" Zach asked.
"It's a tarot card." I balled up the card and stuck it in my pocket. "Like when you get your palms read at the carnival, or something. Stupid."
"What does it mean?" Zach asked again as he moved closer.
"It's just a symbol for change or reversal." I tried for a reassuring smile. "It's nothing, really."
"Yeah, sure." He looked unconvinced.
"First period is half over," I said softly. "You should go."
Zach turned away, the large stack of books swaying precariously as he moved. He glanced back at me from the door of the classroom with a small half-smile. "See you around."
I stood for a long moment in the abandoned hallway. The distant noise from full classrooms only made me feel more alone. I wrapped my hand tightly around the ball of thin cardboard in my pocket.
I didn't need to look at it to see the picture of a man, hanging upside down from a tree branch. His body caught in the motion of swaying limply in the breeze. If I pulled the card out and looked at it, I knew I would see Zach's face, frozen and dead.
In fortune telling, The Hanged Man carried one additional meaning.
Sacrifice.