Charmed (11 page)

“You can do it, Indie!” Bishop cheers, but the nervous tremor in his voice is less than encouraging.

The snake lunges again. I panic and drop the candle, then slice the blade out in front of me with both hands. It makes contact with something solid, and wetness splatters my face. A heavy weight slumps onto my feet.

For a moment, I’m too stunned to move.

“Indie, the candle!”

Bishop’s words sober me up enough to look down. The snake lies in two pieces at my feet, black sludge streaked across my boots. Flames from the dropped candle lick quickly
along the dry leaves. I snatch up the candle and stomp on the fire until it’s out. Smoke curls up from the blackened leaves. I look at the snake carcass again, and a violent gag rises through me.

Remorse and regret swim in my head, making me dizzy. I want to quit, stop this madness now, but then the snake’s death would have been for nothing. I have to go through with this. I have to finish the spell.

I drag in a shaky breath and sweep my eyes over to Bishop. He stands with his hands clenched at his sides, like he’s waiting to catch me if I collapse, but there’s something besides apprehension in his eyes.

Respect. He didn’t think I’d go through with it.

“Now chant the spell,” he says.

I take a breath, calling the words to my head.

“Dame poderes, tres veces tres, dame poderes, tres veces tres, dame poderes, tres veces tres.”

Nothing happens.

“Keep chanting,” Bishop says.

“Dame poderes, tres veces tres, dame poderes, tres veces tres, dame poderes, tres veces tres.”

“Are you sure we’re doing it right?” I ask.

“Yes, I’m sure. I went over it three times with Irena.”

Jealousy flashes hot in my stomach, but it’s hardly the time, so I tamp it down and keep chanting over and over, until the words start slurring together and the sky grows darker by degrees.

“Do you feel any different?” Bishop asks after a while.

“I feel like an asshole, does that count? I murdered that snake for nothing.” I blow out the candle.

“You don’t know that,” he says, but he doesn’t sound very convinced.

Killing the snake seemed like a sacrifice I was willing to make if it gave me an edge to save Paige and those other kids, but to gain nothing at all from it? To have lied to Bishop for no reason? I squeeze my eyes shut against a rush of tears. I can feel him watching me and I wish I could disappear. I’m so disgusted with myself. I’m a terrible person.

“Indie…” He starts toward me when a boom of thunder sounds, so loud it makes us gasp. I look up just as a crack of lightning flashes across the sky. A fat raindrop falls on my forehead, quickly followed by more. Before long, my ears are filled with the sound of rain falling fast on the leaves.

“Awesome,” I say, throwing my hands up at the sky. “It hardly ever rains in L.A. and it rains right now. The universe hates me.”

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Bishop says. He scoops the candle and athame out of the circle and dumps them into the backpack, then hikes the bag over his shoulder. He grabs my hand and pulls me through the forest. By the time we’ve made it back to the path, my hair is plastered to my head, my T-shirt wet and cold against my skin. I shiver so hard my teeth chatter.

“Sorry,” Bishop calls over the rain. “I checked the weather, but I guess it’s different up here in the mountains.”

His words, meant as an apology, strike me like a punch to the gut. I’m being a brat. It’s not his fault any of this is happening—he’s done nothing but go out of his way to try to help. Sometimes I don’t even recognize myself anymore.

I pull up short. He realizes I’ve stopped and spins around. His hair is wet against his cheeks, and he uselessly tries to shield his eyes from the rain. I wrap my arms around his neck and bury myself in his chest. He pulls me close.

“We’ll practice every day,” he says into my hair. “Every chance we get.”

I squeeze him tighter.

We hold each other for a long time.

A
unt Penny knows something is up.

I stir my Cocoa Puffs with more interest than is strictly necessary as she eyes me over the top of the proof of the flyer for the Spooktacular Halloween Sale she’s having at the Black Cat. She slowly bites into her toast, her eyes never leaving mine even though she’s supposed to be checking the proof for typos.

“How was that math test?” she asks.

“Oh. Um. Good,” I lie.

“Good? I haven’t seen you crack a book in like…ever, actually.”

“Well, okay,” I admit. “It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.
But I’ll make up for it, and my grades are so good it will hardly make a difference.”

She’s still staring at me.

“All right, what’s up with you?” she asks.

I shake my hair around my face like a shield and take another big bite of cereal. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I mumble.

Seriously, how could she possibly know about the spell? I had showered and was in bed, my wet clothes hidden beneath a pile of other laundry,
well
before Aunt Penny got home last night. But it’s like the woman inherited some sort of parental bullshit radar the day she became my legal guardian.

“You seem unusually…distant today,” she says.

I shrug. “Do I? Weird. I feel fine. So tell me about this sale. That’s a good idea, by the way. I don’t know why we haven’t thought of it before. What kind of discount were you thinking of offering on the daggers? Thirty percent off, at least, right? I think way more people would buy them if they weren’t so expensive.” I force myself to quit talking. The kitchen is silent in the wake of my rambling.

Aunt Penny sets down her toast and straightens up. Dread pinches my stomach.

“Listen, Indie, I may be ‘old,’ ” she says, making air quotes. “But I’m not stupid. You’ve changed.”

I don’t even know what to say. “Aunt Penny, I…”

“You had sex, didn’t you?”

I stare at her, openmouthed.

“Knew it,” she says.

Heat stains my cheeks. “No, Aunt Penny, that’s not true.”

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, Indie. I mean, it’s me. I know this happens when you have a boyfriend, okay? I just want to know you’re being careful.”

“Ugh!” I bury my burning face in my hands. “Aunt Penny, I’m eating, here.”

“It’s important I say this,” she cries. When I peek through my fingers, she at least has the decency to look almost as embarrassed as I do.

“Trust me, this is as weird for me as it is for you,” she says, “But I don’t want you to get pregnant or catch some nasty disease because I was too embarrassed to bring it up. Just tell me you’ll be careful.”

“I’m not having sex!” Which was a feat after living with Bishop for sixteen days, I almost add.

“Just say it.”

I huff. “Fine, I’ll be careful. Happy now?”

She leans back in her chair. “Yes. Thank you.”

I finally let my hands fall from my face.

“So,” she says. “Do you love him?”

My cheeks flame a deeper red.

“You do!” she squeals, clapping her hands.

I can’t help smiling. “I thought all the embarrassing questions were done.”

“Aww, Indie’s in
looove
,” she coos. I swat at her
shoulder, but she just laughs. “Indie and Bishop, up in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

I stand up, taking my bowl to the sink. “That’s really mature, Aunt Penny.”

“First comes love, then comes marriage—”

“You’re twenty-eight!” I call over her singing, though I’m laughing now too.

My plan seemed so sound last night. Even this morning, the idea of practicing every spare minute I get and then going back to Los Demonios on Saturday, when Aunt Penny has plans to go out for drinks with old friends after the shop closes, seemed logical. For once, I was thinking with my mind instead of just my heart.

But now that I’ve spent the past twenty-five minutes on a school bus full of gossipy girls and immature guys blowing spitballs at each other, it feels all wrong. It doesn’t seem right to be at school while Paige is in that place, in danger.

Everything annoys me.

The bespectacled nerds loudly enjoying a game of mah-jongg on the floor. The football players play-tackling each other against the lockers. The Amy/Ashley twins gossiping about Bianca’s Halloween party. The fact that they’re wearing their cheerleading uniforms to school because it’s a game day (even though just a few weeks ago I was doing the
same thing). I want them all to shut up. To quit having so much fun and realize what an effed-up place this world is.

I’m probably jealous. None of them have a best friend who’s missing, a dead mom, and a bandage that chafes as well as makes it hard to bend their arm.

Still. Annoying.

I slam my locker closed and turn to head for homeroom when someone knocks into my shoulder so hard I lose my balance.

I fall hard on my ass, my head banging against the locker. A gasp rises through the hallway. Every single person within a thirty-mile radius turns to stare at me.

I hear a snort and look up to see Bianca draped around Devon’s shoulder, trying not to smile. With them dressed in matching blue, silver, and black cheerleader/football player uniforms, I can’t help feeling even more like a loser splayed out awkwardly on the floor. Anger spikes inside me. I glare at Bianca, my breathing slowing. My stomach boils, and heat flares down to my fingertips.

But then Devon breaks away from Bianca, and I lose my focus. He’s helping me up before I can even register what’s happening.

“Devon!” Bianca hisses.

He ignores her, picking up my bag and slipping it over his own shoulder. I can feel the eyes of the school on us.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “That looked like it hurt.”

“Yeah,” I grumble. “It was more embarrassing than anything.”

His eyes fall to my arm. “What happened?”

“Got mugged,” I say.

His eyes go wide.

I hurry to change the topic before he asks for more details.

“Thanks for the help, but I should get to class.”

“You should see the nurse,” he says. “You could have a concussion.”

“What?” I shake my head. “No, that’s silly. It wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re going to pass up a day in the nurse’s office?”

I can’t help giving a wan smile at the mischief in his blue eyes—dude is smarter than he looks. I look over at the spot where Bianca was, but she’s gone. Probably to plot my destruction with the Pretty People Club.

Yay.

The crowd starts to disperse as Devon and I move down the hall. I stare straight ahead as we walk, my eyes focused on the neon-green flyer tacked to a bulletin board way at the end of the hall. It’s still too weird to be this close to him. Cheating can have that effect.

“So,” Devon says. “How are things? I mean, obviously not so good, with your mom and…everything.”

“Good,” I lie.

“Really?”

I glance over, hearing the genuine concern in his voice. His eyebrows pull together, and for a split second I can remember a time when I thought I loved that face, though I can’t summon any of those feelings now. I look away.

“Not really. But, you know…”

The first bell rings, and noise picks up as students start filing through the hallway toward class.

I stop. “I can get to the nurse’s office okay.”

Devon pulls up short. “Oh. Are you sure? Because I don’t mind helping….”

“I’m all right. Thanks, though.”

He gives me a sad smile, not moving from the middle of the hall as I turn my back on him. I feel sort of bad. I know I shouldn’t, since I didn’t do anything wrong, but still—he has to live with Bianca now, and that just sucks.

The good thing about the whole incident is that I get to spend all morning lying on a cot in the nurse’s office. If I had known being knocked on my ass would get me out of Mrs. Davies’s boring lectures and math tests, I would have gotten a head injury a long time ago.

I have a miraculous recovery at lunchtime. I’m in line for some oily cafeteria pizza when I hear someone yell, “Indie!” behind me.

Jessie. Again.

“Hey,” she says. “I heard about your fall. Are you okay?”

I sigh. Who
hasn’t
heard about my fall? “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for asking.”

We inch forward. The hairnetted caf lady raises her eyebrows at me, which is her way of asking what I want.

“Pizza, please.”

She tongs a slice onto a paper plate and slides it over the glass case.

“Same,” Jessie says.

I leave her to pay at the cash register, all the while considering discreet places I can eat my pizza alone, with minimal embarrassment. Someone snags my arm. Lo and behold, it’s Jessie again.

“Hey, you want to eat with me?”

I open my mouth to object, but the hope in her eyes—and okay, the fact that I don’t have anywhere else to go—reminds me so much of Paige that I just nod and follow her.

Jessie sits at the front of the big hall, at what is politely termed the Loser Table. A few months ago, I would rather have eaten razor blades than sit there, but now, looking at all the faces that give me friendly smiles as I sit down, I couldn’t think of anyplace I’d rather sit.

I take a big bite of my pizza, letting the conversation whirl around my head.

A burst of laughter comes from the caf entrance. I look up and see a blob of blue pleats and silver spankies in the form of Bianca, Julia, and half of the cheerleading squad walking in. They’re all screeching with laughter at something Bianca’s said—I can tell by the way she struts, a satisfied smile on her face.

My first instinct is to try to hide as she nears so that she won’t notice me at the Loser table, but the second I have that thought, I feel a twinge of guilt and lift my chin up.

At first I think Bianca isn’t going to notice me, but when her eyes sweep the caf, they land directly on me. She lets out a peal of maniacal laughter, her face radiating pure glee. The rest of the Bitch Brigade follows her line of sight. At least they have the decency to cover their mouths and try to stifle their laughter.

“Just ignore them,” Jessie whispers.

But I can’t. Anger burns up my chest.

“Something funny?” I call over.

The noise sucks out of the caf, and I can hear a person cough from across the room.