The Wild (Book Four The Hayle Coven Novels) Page 9

  That sucked all the remaining aggression out of me.

  “You really think so?” I hated the whine in my voice. Had to work on that sometime.

  “I know it,” he said. “I’m not giving up on you anytime soon. So, you go quietly and I make sure you’re where you need to be when you need to be there. Deal?”

  Fine. I’d go to the stupid lake house and spend stupid time with Alison and her stupid mother. I’d stay away and be a good girl. To a point.

  “Deal,” I said.

  ***

  Chapter Thirteen

  I stand before the court. I see my parents watching over the proceedings, neither willing to help me. Even my truest love, he whom I swore eternal faith, orders my death.

  And Cydia, raven hair flowing, glowing blue eyes the clarity of flawless crystal, stands with her finger pointed, her beautiful face flushed with fury and hate.

  “Death!”

  My love, my darling Gwynn, he of the golden hair and emerald eyes, skin as smooth and perfect as any flower petal, he stares at me with that same look of hate as she who is my sister.

  “Death!”

  Heart shattered into nothing, I allow it, allow him to descend on me, to use his bright, sharp blade, calling the strike of lightning through my heart to end my life.

  ***

  It couldn’t be a coincidence. Not the same dream twice. I shuddered under the covers, most of my quilt and top sheet on the floor in a puddle where I’d thrashed them off in my sleep. My dreaming self took her punishment, but my unconscious body clearly hadn’t gone down so easily.

  I wiped at the tears on my face, finding it hard to disconnect myself from the pain of the betrayal. One thing was certain—like Pain, I’d never dreamed like this before. Once I’d tried connecting with my demon through dreams, but even that hadn’t seemed this real, more like a TV show playing out in my head, one I had about as much control over, except in this case my remote wasn’t working.

  My sense of the familiar clung to me. It may not have happened to me specifically, but this event had happened, I was sure of it. Why I was dreaming about it I had no idea. Until it crossed my mind maybe the power holding me back had something to do with it.

  That shot me out of bed to pace around my room, now wide awake and mind furiously thinking. What if whatever this thing in my head was had a part in the death of the girl? If that was the case, was it possible that same power was linked to Pain, not because of what I’d done, but because of the person who’d blocked her as well?

  The idea nearly took my breath away. I stumbled to a halt, staring out the window as I tried to solidify the idea. It was completely possible. But I’d only met Pain when we moved here and whatever kept me separate from my power had been doing so my entire life. Did that mean I knew Pain before and just didn’t realize it? Not likely. Which meant if the person who contained me did the same to her it was someone we both knew.

  But who? Everyone admitted it felt like family magic. But nothing about Pain ever made me think she was connected to the Hayle coven in any way. So I couldn’t be right.

  Could I?

  I almost went to knock on Mom’s door. Almost. I quickly changed my mind with my hand on my doorknob. I had to have proof, or some kind of real connection. Not that Mom wouldn’t believe me. It was just that evidence always went a long way to convince her.

  Where was I going to get some? I needed to see Pain, that much was obvious. And as much as Mom wanted to keep her in the dark until her blocks failed, maybe it was time to tell her everything.

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, and I instantly hugged myself. My computer was still on so I brought up the Internet and checked the weather network. Red warning banners flashed all over the page. A hurricane was on its way, heading for New York State and, on the other side, Pennsylvania. Us, in other words. I had no doubt what the world’s meteorologists thought was a hurricane was, in fact, the Wild.

  I read through the reports, confirming my suspicions. The issued statements were erratic, the storm forming only to fall apart and reform over and over as it hovered just off shore. The specialists seemed baffled. As well they should.

  Magical storms weren’t exactly their specialty.

  I spent the rest of the night listening to the thunder in the distance and wondering what I was going to do.

  Fuzzy headed and frustrated, I exited my room the next morning the very moment my sister did the same. Meira froze when our eyes met, as if I’d caught her breaking the law.

  “Meems,” I reached for her, knowing I had to try to mend our fence, even if she wasn’t willing. She dodged past my outstretched hand instead, slipping down the stairs and out of sight before I could stop her. Yup, definitely avoiding me. I reached the kitchen just in time to see her and Dad driving off in our minivan.

  Great. I really had to deal with that.

  I called Pain’s house, but no one answered. And when I ran over to check, just in case, choosing to jog instead of taking my neon blue Cooper Mini to work off some stress, I found the perfect gingerbread house locked up and dark.

  Rather than head right home, I continued my run, working out my frustration through the soles of my sneakers. I used to run a lot, back when I played soccer, but gave it up when the family ruined my chances for even that slice of my life by throwing me off so badly I wasn’t asked back. And while I now knew it wasn’t their fault, but deliberate sabotage by one Jared Runnel, known as Galleytrot of the Wild Hunt, it still rankled.

  I’d always intended to start running again, but never got around to it. Until the last six weeks. It seemed like pounding the pavement was one of the only ways to keep my mind from my frustration and letting it settle.

  I took a break outside a small convenience store, going inside for a bottle of water. I stood at the counter with my cold drink in my hand, eyes lifting to the TV screen behind the cash. The two cashiers weren’t paying attention to me any more than I was to them.

  The weather was on. The announcer, a handsomish thirty something, spoke.

  “As unpredictable as this storm front is, the states of New York, New Jersey and Connecticut have all declared hurricane watches over the next several days. States as far inland as Pennsylvania and Maryland are being warned to be on the alert for the growing threat. While it is possible the cell could break up, according to the latest reports, it is far more likely to develop into a super cell of deadly proportions.”

  He continued with suggestions for evacuation procedures and what to have in a survival kit. My heart pounded, having nothing to do with my run. Both clerks turned away from the TV, one lowering the volume. The first noticed me, a sweet faced young woman with a stringy brown ponytail. She kind of smiled before ringing my purchases while her counter mate, an older woman on the apple shaped side, shook her head, gray curls swinging.

  “Whole town is talking about evacuation, can you imagine?” She rolled her eyes at me. “And that storm all the way out there over the ocean. Like it will ever make it this far.”

  I glanced up at the screen again. Though silent, the red lines predicting the path of the hurricane traveled due west and right over Wilding Springs. Surprise, surprise.

  “Yeah, sure.” I pocketed my change, wishing I could warn them both.

  The water was cold and clean, but I had to force it down. My hand shook so much I finally emptied the last of it in the grass—waste not, want not—and pitched the bottle into the recycle bin before walking home.

  Running just didn’t seem appropriate. If I started, my fear might never let me stop.

  Mom and Dad remained totally inaccessible for the rest of the day, but I didn’t think my news would be much use anyway. And until I could talk to Pain, I refused to burden them with my worries any further.

  They had enough to think about.

  Thankfully, I managed a good night’s sleep without dreams and was perky, or as perky as I managed, Monday morning for the last few days of school. I’d done little to study for my final ex
ams, but aside from Chemistry I wasn’t all that worried.

  The one person I needed to see wasn’t there, however. And while I was happy to see Alison and the gang waiting for me in the nook, I took a moment to corner Blood and ask him where his girlfriend was.

  “Dunno,” he said with a casual shrug. “Her mom and dad took her off someplace for a few days.” He looked a little worried and I wondered if they’d forced her into hospital again.

  “Is she okay?” I hated to ask him, because I knew he was thinking the same thing.

  “She will be.” He offered a lopsided grin. “She’s Pain, you know?”

  It was only then I understood why she chose that name. She was pain.

  I wanted to cry.

  Blood left me standing there in the sunlight, my lip quivering and eyes threatening to well. I don’t think he knew how bad I was feeling or he never would have left me, I’m sure of it. Trouble was, he may not have noticed, but that didn’t mean no one did.

  “Aw, what’s the matter, Syd?”

  I hated that voice. With a passion. Traitor. I turned and glared at Page, my anguish drying up under the heat of my anger. I was almost grateful to her for offering me an alternative.

  “I smelled you coming,” I shot back as I waved my hand in front of my face. “Almost killed me.”

  Her friends tittered a giggle behind her. Oh, so not good. It made me grin, though.

  Page immediately got all up in my face. I could see the thin powder shining on the fine hair of her cheeks as the sunlight lit each one individually. It made her seem so shallow and fake when she spoke her words had no weight.

  “Watch it,” she hissed. “This year may be over, but you still have to survive the next one. And this summer, for that matter.”

  Whatever. When Alison was head cheerbitch, she had the bully thing down to a science. Even Suzanne could pull off a good threat with a significant amount of control behind it. But I’d known Page when she was a fallen angel, desperate to fit in and as broken as I’d ever seen anyone. She didn’t impress me, and I think that’s what bugged her the most.

  “Looking forward to it.” I shoved past her without actually touching her and stalked off. Like I gave a crap anymore.

  Two exams and a quiet lunch later and I turned Alison down for a burger at Johnny’s so I could go check on Pain again. My obsession with talking to her was getting so bad I actually caught myself erasing her name in a space on my Chemistry exam where an answer should go. Somehow I didn’t think my teacher would accept Pain as the correct combination for the chemical formula of plastic.

  I went home first to change into my running gear. At least I would have an excuse if Mom asked where I was going. Not that it was likely she’d be there to ask, but if I didn’t have one, she would be. And I’d end up blurting everything out before I had it proven.

  Imagine my surprise when I walked through my kitchen door to find Pain sitting at the table with my mother.

  ***

  Chapter Fourteen

  I was so speechless I stood there for a minute like an idiot while Mom swept to her feet with a strained smile on her face. At first I was sure she’d told Pain everything and was grateful I wouldn’t have to do it, only to realize her look and the slight shake of Mom’s head meant she hadn’t. In fact, was ordering me to keep my mouth shut.

  Fine. At least while she was in earshot.

  “Thank you, Mrs. Hayle.” Pain smiled at me a little, the tension in her face easing somewhat. “I’ve been getting headaches,” she explained to me. “Your Mom gave me an herbal remedy. It seems to be doing the trick.”

  Herbal my butt. More likely Mom used magic and gave her oregano out of the cupboard. But whatever worked.

  “I’ll leave you two to talk. Syd,” Mom hugged me fast and hard, just long enough to whisper ‘Don’t’ in my ear before vanishing with a swirl of her long skirt down the basement stairs.

  We’d just see about that.

  “I’m sorry to just drop in like this.” Pain shifted in her chair, as if uncomfortable in her own skin. I sat down across from her.

  “No worries. Any time. Was there something you wanted to talk about?”

  Pain hesitated. When her crystal eyes met mine, I flinched a bit. Cydia’s eyes, from the dream. Turns out I wasn’t the only one remembering.

  “I just… I can’t tell anyone else. About. You know.” She shifted again, fingers drumming on the table over and over. She looked clearly nervous. “You didn’t tell anyone? Your mother?”

  I shook my head. “Not a chance. I was looking for you, actually.” That admission made me squirm for a change. “I was at your house yesterday, but no one was home.”

  She flinched slightly, eyes dropping. When she spoke again, it was a whisper. “I had my appointment,” she said.

  Had to be therapy. I just hoped they weren’t shocking her or something. Who knew how modern psychiatry would treat a blocked witch? And how she would react if she suddenly found herself free of those walls while in the middle of a treatment.

  Shudder.

  “Is it awful?” I wanted to reach out to her, but held my own hands firmly in my lap.

  She clasped her dancing fingers together for a moment before they loosened and returned to their endless tapping. “No, not awful. Just… I wish they believed me, you know? Like you do.”

  “Pain,” I said, fully intending to spill everything. Until her eyes met mine again and I knew I couldn’t. Mom was right. This wasn’t for me to do. As fragile as she was, if I told her now without help and support, she’d snap like a dried out twig. It just wasn’t fair. Who would do this to a little girl, letting her grow up to be half of herself?

  The same person who did it to me?

  The hell with it. She needed to know. Fragile or not, crazy because of it or not, no one deserved to stay in the dark this way.

  I opened my mouth to go on and didn’t get the chance. Strong hands settled on my shoulders, long nails digging into my skin through the cloth. Gram hunched forward over my shoulder, breath smelling like chocolate but faded blue eyes locked on Pain’s startled face.

  “The enemy is here,” she said. “But she is no enemy. The past is lost.” Gram’s fingers tightened so much I knew I’d be bruised, but I didn’t dare pull away. I could see the struggle in her, feel her body vibrating with the effort it took her to keep her sanity long enough to deliver her message. “But the past will solve everything.”

  “Gram,” I said ever so softly, not wanting to break her control, “is what’s happening to Pain the same as what’s wrong with me?”

  She stood there a long moment, trembling with need, lips working over and over as she tried to form the words. Gram’s eyes met mine, the spark of who she really was reaching for me through them. I clung to her hands on my shoulders, begging her with my own gaze to stay with me, but watched with sadness as that part of her faded, lost into the depths of the damage in her mind.

  Instead of wandering off as she usually did, however, she spun me around to face her fully, this time her grip making me cry out. I heard Mom’s footsteps on the basement stairs just as Gram shook me so hard my head wobbled on my neck.

  “Give it BACK!!!” She slammed me against the wall, more strength in her thin old body than I’d ever given her credit for. “I need it, you can’t have it anymore. Give it back!”

  Mom was suddenly there, pulling Gram away. The old lady sobbed like a child, staring at her trembling hands as if touching me harmed her instead of the other way around.

  Mom hustled her down the hall and out of the kitchen while I pulled myself together. Only then did I remember Pain. She stood a few feet from me, her chair tipped backward on the floor like she’d simply shoved herself out of the way and let it fall.

  “Pain,” I reached out to her, “I’m sorry. My grandmother, she’s nuts.”

  But Pain was shaking her head, horror on her face. “She’s me,” she said. “That’s me, Syd. Where I’m going. They keep telling me I’m n
ot crazy while they treat me like I am. And now I know what is going to happen to me.” She sobbed once, backing up another step. Another. I didn’t dare rush her, knowing it would just drive her away faster.

  Whatever connection she’d felt with my grandmother was making things worse.

  “Please, just come back and sit down.” Mom could erase the memory at least and give her some peace. This proved to me I was in no position to tell Pain anything.

  Before I could stop her, my troubled friend spun and ran out the door, letting it bang shut behind her.

  Mom appeared a moment later. “What happened?”

  Furious, I spun on her. “Gram happened. Had one of her lucid moments, right in front of Pain, must have let some magic out. And now Pain is a wreck. Mom, we have to tell her! You have to tell her. Help her understand she’s not insane.”

  Mom hesitated. I could see the need in her face, knew she wanted to act. Right. The stupid coven rules.

  “Pain’s birthday is in four days, Mom.” I ground that detail in. “Would you rather a sane and prepared young witch or a basket case who could go off at any second?”

  Mom looked suddenly horrified. “The Wild,” she whispered. “This couldn’t be worse timing.”

  Something about that made me pause. Not because she was right, but because it triggered a memory, one I was unable to unearth completely. Mom went on before I could finish the train of thought, breaking it in half so I lost it.

  “I’ll do what I can.” She sighed deeply, her weariness clear on her face and in the set of her shoulders. “You’re right, of course. I can’t break her blocks, but maybe I can ease her mind.”

  A miracle. Mom listened to me.

  “For now,” she said, “I have other things to deal with. I promise I’ll visit her later.”