Broken Illusions: A Midnight Dragonfly Novel (8 page)

I’d tried to tell him it didn’t work like that, that the dreams found me and not the other way around, but he’d insisted.

Studying was a waste of time. Every time I looked at the periodic table, I saw the letters of the Ouija board. I wanted to chalk the weirdness up to coincidence, but the frightening possibilities slipped through me, exactly like when I’d keyed in on Jessica.
What if. What if the Ouija board had spelled out Grace’s name as a warning—or a cry for help. What if she was reaching out to me—

Absently my hand settled against Delphi’s face, and she began to purr.

With Jessica, I’d seen full-blown snapshots. I’d seen the room where she’d been held, and I’d seen
her.
I’d seen her dirty clothing and the terror on her face. I’d even …
felt
her.

With Grace, all I had was her name and a sliver of cold somewhere inside.

Mind racing, I dragged my laptop next to Delphi and did another search on Ouija boards. The stories were everywhere, Web sites and message boards dedicated to Ouija board horror stories. So-called experts warned that they were not a game—and that you should never remove your hands from the pointer without saying good-bye.

Pulling the quilt close, I switched to Facebook and found over seventy-five recent posts on Chase’s page.

Lucas and Amber’s names jumped out at me, back and forth, the most recent from two minutes before.

Lucas Albright:
Dude, what good is a psycho girlfriend if she doesn’t warn you?

Amber Lane:
Warn? That’s not what Trin-Trin does. She never says anything until after the fact. Then she plays hero.

Lucas Albright:
True dat.

Amber Lane:
Did you see that room in her aunt’s shop? Did you feel how cold it was?

Lucas Albright:
If the rain had gotten inside, it would have turned to ice.

Amber Lane:
Just like her.

Lucas Albright:
Drew said she led him straight to Chase. How eff’d up is that?

Amber Lane:
Is Victoria ok? If I were you, I wouldn’t let her near Chase’s little voodoo queen.

Lucas Albright:
Tryin’. Think maybe she’s got some kind of spell or curse on her.

Amber Lane:
Prolly. What’d she say about the séance?

Lucas Albright:
Nuthin. But she gets this messed-up look in her eyes like she’s scared as shit and holding out on me.

It was all right there on Chase’s page, for the whole world to see. Or at least all of his friends—and his parents.

Sighing, I slid the laptop aside, texted Victoria about what Lucas and Amber were saying, then flipped off the lamp. And slid the picture of Grace under my pillow.

Sleep came surprisingly fast. One minute I was petting Delphi and in the next my eyes shot open. Adrenaline raced. Disoriented, I tried to move, but a visceral knowing wouldn’t let me.

I wasn’t alone.

Around me the room breathed, and the shadows slipped closer.

Delphi tensed. Moonlight showed her crouched low, her ears flat and her eyes huge and dark, fixed. Her little body didn’t even move with breath.

She felt it, too.

I made myself breathe, let it out slowly as I looked deeper into the darkness.

And then the alarm went off.

The moment broke. It was odd, because tangibly, nothing changed. Delphi and I still didn’t move. The collision between night and day still bathed the room in shadows. And the heater still rattled—

The heater. That’s when it hit me, the only difference besides the scream of the alarm. The heater blew. It had been blowing all along.

But the room had been cold.

Now sweat bathed my body, and my breath came on a hot rush.

Delphi rose and crept to the edge of the bed. Watching her, I allowed myself to move, sliding my hand under my pillow to retrieve the picture of Grace.

“What’s going on?” I whispered as if she could hear me. “What are you trying to tell me?”

*   *   *

I barely made it to school on time.

Only a few minutes before homeroom, I yanked open my locker—and saw the Ouija board. It dominated the small space, not the same one from Saturday, but darker, with letters of red. All except the three that had been smudged away—D, E, and I.

DIE

I moved to close the door, but before I could, Amber slid in, smiling like she did when she took the field to cheer. “What’s the matter, Trin-Trin? Lookin’ a little pale.”

And she was looking ridiculously pleased with herself. “So original, Amber,” I muttered.

“I mean, I sure hope some evil spirit isn’t keeping you awake at night. I’ve heard sometimes that happens—”

I smiled right back. “Funny thing about evil spirits, sweetie. Once they’re free, you never know what’s going to happen.”

Lined in thick black, her eyes widened. “Are you threatening me?”

I was kinda surprised she leapt from point A to point B so quickly. Normally, subtlety flew right by her.

“I’ll let you figure that out,” I said as first bell rang and the hall started to empty.

“Oh, I’ve got it figured out,” she said, swooping in and retrieving the board. “And soon everyone else will, too.”

It was all I could do not to roll my eyes.

“First Jessie gets hurt, then Chase. Why, you’re worse than a black cat.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t be standing here,” I said. “I mean, you never know what might happen.”

“You think you’re so untouchable just because you’ve got Chase whipped and your aunt is doing a cop. But I see you for who you are. Ever since you showed up, bad things have been happening—”

“Knock it off, Amber.”

Chase had such an awesome knack for timing—it’s probably why he was killer on the football field. He came up behind me and slid his arm around my waist, easing me against him.

“Chase.” Amber’s eyes got all narrow. “You sure you should be here today? I mean after Saturday night—”

“Yeah, I saw all your concern on Facebook.”

Amazing how quick I could go from ready to smack someone to melting inside.

“Look,” she said, sweeping a long coffee-colored ringlet from her face. “You can delete any post you want, but that doesn’t change the truth. I was there Saturday night. I
saw
what happened. You didn’t.”

“And we all know how reliable you are,” he muttered.

“Remember that night at the house on Prytania?” she rolled on. “When we went into that room with those mattresses? Remember how still Trinity got? How cold? That’s how she looked Saturday, almost … dead.”

Chase’s hold on me tightened. “Give it up, Amber. It was just an eff’in game.”

“A game?” she shrieked, and now her eyes glittered. “If that’s really what you think, then maybe you need to play with her next time, instead of poor Vic. You can pretend to be the dead dad while your girlfriend pretends to be her dead mother—”

The moment just kind of stopped, at least for me. Chase and Amber were still going at it, but my heart screamed so hard I could feel it pound in every pulse point of my body.

She couldn’t know. She couldn’t. Victoria had
promised …

“You’re messed up, you know that?” Chase said as the second bell rang. The disgust in his voice would have made me feel good, if I hadn’t realized what was coming. “Trinity doesn’t go around making up crap like you do.”

Her mouth twisted. “For your sake, sha, you better hope she does.” With her flare for drama, she swirled around and waltzed off, vanishing around the corner, leaving only me and Chase beside my locker. When he stood motionless like that, with his feet shoulder width apart, it drove home how much bigger than me he was. Usually that made me feel safe.

At that moment, I felt anything but. Because the second I glanced up at him, I knew Amber’s words had done more damage than he’d let her see.

His eyes met mine. “Your mom?” he said, and even if I hadn’t noticed anything else, the lack of emotion in his voice would have told me something wasn’t right. The more upset Chase was, the less emotion he showed. “What’s she talking about, T?”

There was no point pretending a little bomb hadn’t just exploded. I’d told him about the Ouija board, but I hadn’t told him exactly how weird things had gotten.

“I thought it was my subconscious,” I said quietly.

He didn’t move, other than the rise and fall of his shoulders.
“But you don’t think that anymore?”

Yesterday I’d told myself what happened with the Ouija board had been about Chase’s accident, another psychic warning, just via a different channel.

I no longer had that luxury.

“Detective LaSalle was at the condo when I got home last night,” I said.

I saw him brace. “And?”

Stepping into him, I lifted a hand to his chest. In that moment, I really, really needed to touch him.

“What happened with Jessica?” I whispered, searching his eyes. “I think it’s happening again.”

Omigod, Im SO freaking sorry!!!

It wasn’t until after bombing the chem test that I saw Victoria’s text. Stepping into the hall, I scrolled through the other messages that had piled up during first period.

The rumor mill spun fast.

I didn’t tell him, I promise!

Him, of course, was Lucas.

He was asking me all these questions, trying to figure out what happened. He wanted to know who came through. I told him no one. But he kept on and finally he guessed it was your mom. I told him to be real, but he wouldn’t stop and got it in his head that’s what happened. I am SO SORRY. Amber is such a bitch.

Maybe I should have been mad at Victoria, but I knew her. She wasn’t a good liar. When Lucas tossed out the possibility of my mom coming through, her eyes had probably gotten real big, or she’d stammered or looked away, something that made Lucas realize he’d hit pay dirt.

Aware of the way everyone was looking at me, I texted her back and told her not to worry about it.

Then I bit the inside of my mouth and clicked on Chase’s name.

I want to know everything.

There’d been no time for details before class, only a quick overview. And he’d left homeroom as soon as he’d turned in his test. We wouldn’t have a chance to talk until lunch.

OK. No secrets—promise.

After sending that, I stared at Detective LaSalle’s name. I hated the jolt I got every time it flashed across my phone. I tried to think of him as simply my aunt’s boyfriend, but since he didn’t think of me as simply his girlfriend’s niece, I had a hard time.

Realizing I was about to be late to history, I made myself pull up his message.

Sara says you didn’t dream last night. Try not to worry. Maybe something will click at the apartment. I’ll be waiting when school gets out.

*   *   *

The dragonfly stopped me cold.

Standing inside Grace’s apartment, I stared at the shimmering sun-catcher for a long time. A ceiling fan whirred nearby, making the iridescent green glass flutter against the window. Through wide wings, sunlight fractured into a distorted rainbow.

My thoughts raced. Pieces of the puzzle slipped closer, sharper now. But I couldn’t make them fit.

“Trinity?” Detective LaSalle asked. “You okay? Are you getting something?”

I made myself turn from the hauntingly simple dragonfly, the one so very, very much like the figurine of blown-glass in my bedroom. “Not yet.”

He stood by the door, dressed as he always was in pressed khakis, a light blue shirt, and sport coat. Dark sunglasses hid his eyes and, I knew, the fatigue that came from lack of sleep. He’d been at our place until after one.

“Take your time,” he said. Despite the sunglasses, I knew he watched.

Grace’s apartment was little more than a single room with a fridge, stove, and sink to one side, a bathroom that looked more like a closet, and an Oriental screen standing in the middle, pretending to be a wall. A hollow door led out to the musty hall. Toward the back, beyond the futon that served as a bed, a lone window overlooked a courtyard.

I’m not sure why that fascinated me so much, the secret gardens of the French Quarter, these thriving little oases tucked away from the rest of the world. But I loved that about the city, that you could be walking down the most crowded, foul-smelling street, looking at sad, run-down buildings, while just beyond the brick and concrete, something beautiful thrived.

Illusions, I thought, turning from the window. Everyone created them. Even places.

I still hadn’t talked to Chase. I’d looked for him at lunch, but Drew said something about Chase getting treatment on his ankle in the weight room. I’d texted him, told him I would be at Fleurish! later if he wanted to talk.

He’d said ok.

I really wished I hadn’t glossed over things the night before. I just hadn’t wanted to worry him. Unfortunately, with Chase, there was no such thing as a harmless secret.

I turned, running my hand along a pink-and-black striped blanket draped over the futon. It was neatly folded and placed, no sign of a struggle or anything out of the ordinary. At the front of the room, milk crates served as a table, much like they had at Dylan’s—

I stopped the memory before it could go any further. The last thing I needed was to return to his apartment, or the moments I’d spent there.

“It looks like she just walked away,” I murmured, taking in a half-eaten banana, now gross and brown on a small white plate.

“But never came back,” LaSalle said.

The thought unnerved me. To get up one morning and start breakfast, run out for a second—

I twisted toward the love seat, where a large, peace-sign tote sat next to an open paperback:
Gazing into the Eternal
.

“Can I touch it?”

“It’s been dusted.”

Carefully I reached for the book, and a thin dark object fluttered to the ground. Kneeling, I reached for it, felt my breath catch the second I recognized the feathers.

I didn’t want to touch it. I didn’t want to feel anything.

But I had to.

Refusing to let my hand shake, I reached for the Mardi Gras mask—and saw the picture on the floor, half concealed by a pair of well-worn leather sandals.