creepy hollow 05.5 - scarlett (13 page)

She held the candle up, snapped her fingers, and thought of her old home.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The ‘home’ she thought of was Jack and Zoe’s house—specifically, Jack’s bedroom. She must have been focusing on it more intently than any thought she’d ever held in her mind because Jack’s bedroom was precisely where she landed. She had hoped to find only him, or perhaps an empty room and a few minutes to catch her thoughts, but they were both there—Jack sitting at his desk in front of his ancient hand-me-down computer and Zoe leaning over his shoulder, laughing at whatever he was showing her on the screen.

They both looked up.

“Holy freaking sh—” Zoe backed up, tripped over the lamp cord, and fell onto her backside, pulling the lamp and a glass of water onto the floor with her.

The scene froze.

Then, as if in slow motion, Jack rose from his chair. “Beth?”

Beth.
How long had it been since she’d heard that name?

Zoe scrambled to her feet and flattened herself against the far wall. “How did you … you just … you just …”

Appeared out of thin air
, is probably what she was going for. Scarlett raised both hands. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have come back sooner, but I was trying to—to learn how to …” Dammit. Where did she even begin?

A war of emotions played across Jack’s face. In a voice that spoke of months of confusion, pain and anger, he asked, “What happened?” It twisted her heart to think of how she’d betrayed him, how she’d laughed with and dreamed of and kissed someone else. She opened her mouth, but no answer came out. “What did you do to me?” he asked, his voice so quiet it was barely a whisper. “I don’t understand what happened. I felt as though my life was being drained from my body. I blacked out, and when I woke, you had vanished. The police searched, but they came up with nothing.”

“The police?” But of course the police had searched for her. She had almost killed someone and then disappeared without a trace. That wasn’t something that went unnoticed. Jack extended his hand to the side and Zoe took hold of it, gripping tightly. Almost as if … as if the two of them were
scared
of her. “Jack, I was as confused as you were, I promise,” Scarlett said, “but I can explain now.”

“Can you?” His tone was wary. “Everyone kept trying to come up with a sensible explanation for what happened to me, but all I could remember was how unnatural it felt. How …
super
natural. I told myself that thoughts like that were crazy, but now, seeing you appear here—literally out of nothing—confirms that I wasn’t crazy at all.”

Scarlett slowly shook her head. “You weren’t crazy. It’s …” She swallowed, then dared to say the word out loud. “It’s magic.”

Zoe shook her head vigorously from side to side. “No, no, no, no, no. Don’t go there. We just—we just want things to go back to normal, and now you’re bringing this craziness right into our—”

“I didn’t do this on purpose, Zoe. I had no idea it was going to happen.”

“Just … you … you need to go.”

“What?” Scarlett had known this would be difficult, but she’d never considered that her friends might want nothing to do with her. She would explain the whole story, they would eventually understand, and then they’d support her. That was the way this was supposed to go. “Please hear me out. Just give me a few minutes to explain everything.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jack said carefully. “I remember feeling …” His gaze moved to the floor. “When I looked at you, I wasn’t in control of myself. I remember thinking I’d do anything you asked. I’d go anywhere, be anything. I would have drowned myself in the lake if you’d told me to. And that …” He shook his head, his eyes still focused on the floor. “That terrifies the hell out of me, Beth.”

“I would never ask you to hurt yourself, Jack. I would never, ever exert any kind of control over you.”

His only reply was silence, and eventually it was Zoe who responded. “You’re not denying it. You’re not denying that you could control us if you wanted to.”

“Not both of you, just—”
Just Jack
, she’d been about to say, but that definitely wasn’t going to help her case in this moment.

“What have you become?” Jack whispered.

She clenched the candle in her closed fist. “Seriously, guys, I’m still me. Zoe? Will you give me a chance? Please?”

“I … I can’t.” Zoe’s fingers tightened around her brother’s as she struggled to meet Scarlett’s gaze. “You’ve changed. You look … different. You’re too beautiful. People shouldn’t be that beautiful. I don’t know what you are, but you don’t belong here.”

“Of course I belong here, Zoe.” Scarlett’s tone was desperate as she tried to convince herself as much as her best friend. Because if she didn’t belong here, then where would she go? The magic of her own world called to her with an irresistible pull, but she would never return to the witches. Never return to those who wanted only to use her. “We’ve been best friends for years, Zo. I belong here with you and Jack. And I know I’ve—I’ve changed, but we can figure things out as we go. We can get things back to normal. We—”

“Jack was in the hospital for three days! What if that happens again? What if you do it to someone else? Gah, I don’t even know what ‘it’ is, and I don’t
want
to know!”

“Then you don’t have to. I won’t tell you anything that makes you feel uncomfortable or—”

“No. We don’t want any part of this. You need to leave.”

“I don’t need to leave!” Scarlett yelled, and a cushion erupted on the bed, sending balls of fluff shooting into the air.

Jack’s arms went around Zoe, and she clung tightly to his side. Their eyes couldn’t possibly grow any wider as they watched the puffs of white float down to rest on the bed.

“I’m sorry,” Scarlett whispered, trying not to frighten them further. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. That was an accident. It won’t—”

“Please just leave,” Jack said, his eyes still fixed on the bed.

It was then that she saw this scene as if from high above. Saw it for what it truly was. The predator on one side of the room, and the weak, cowering prey on the other. She would never dream of hurting them, but they were right to be afraid of her. After all, it had been only hours since she’d killed one of their kind, and the part of her that enjoyed it had far outweighed the part of her that was horrified by her actions—if that part even existed anymore.

She did not belong here.

She could have used the candle, but she didn’t want to waste it, nor did she want to further terrify her friends. So without another word, Scarlett walked out of the bedroom, pushing down the hollow sickness in her stomach as the last vestiges of her old life crumbled to pieces in her wake.

Jack and Zoe’s parents didn’t seem to notice her as she stalked out of the house in her glittering dress and fur-lined cloak, perhaps because she didn’t want them to. She walked down the path, onto the sidewalk, and turned into her father’s property. She had no plan yet as to where to go next, but perhaps she should gather some of her old things and take them with her. Or perhaps not. Did she really need anything from this dreary old life of hers? She stood on the front porch, ignoring the widening cracks in her heart, and considered her options.

And that’s when the front door opened.

Her father stood before her, unsurprised, as if he’d known before he opened the door that it was her he’d find on the doorstep. Scarlett folded her arms over her chest and said, “I would ask if you missed me, but I already know the answer.”

He waited in silence, his hands clenching into fists at his sides, before murmuring, “You’re as breathtaking as your mother.” Given the bitterness of his tone, she doubted it was a compliment. He stepped forward into the light of the bare bulb that hung above the front door, and only then did Scarlett notice how different he looked. How much younger. It was in this same moment that she became aware of a source of magic other than her own. “Surprised to see me as I truly am?” her father asked. “I assume you can see past my glamour, now that your own magic has awoken.”

“You … you’re
magical
,” she said. “What the hell are you?”

“A faerie. A faerie who wanted a simpler life and no magic. A faerie who was perfectly happy living in this world until he got dumped with you.”

“You … you’ve been lying to me my entire life.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He pulled his head back. “Are you under the impression that I owe you the truth?”

“You’re my
father
!”

“And that’s why I was forced to take you in when your mother no longer wanted you. I owe you nothing, Beth. If anything, you’re the one who owes me.”

She laughed, loudly and without an ounce of humor. “Owe you?
Owe you?
For being a spectacularly awful father? You don’t deserve to be called
Dad
. I don’t even know why you kept me. You could have passed me on to someone else, just as Evaline did.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not a monster. I’ve seen the horrors of the foster care system in this world, and I didn’t think a young child deserved that. Besides, if your mother ever came back for you and found I’d handed you off to someone else …”

Scarlett shook her head. “So that’s why you kept me. You’re afraid of Evaline.”

Sparks of light danced around his clenched fists, and a shock stung her skin. The same kind of shock she’d felt on the evening of the red dress when Dad had told her to get out. He leaned closer and growled, “I kept you because nobody else would ever have wanted you, miserable, plain little girl that you were. And after you almost killed your own boyfriend with freakish powers that no human will ever accept, I doubt there’s anyone left in this world who will
ever
want you.”

Fury and pain blazed simultaneously through Scarlett’s body. Her hand flashed forward and gripped her father’s neck. He tried to fight her off, but she held on until his legs gave in. She let go. As he clutched his chest and gasped for air, she lit the candle. She held it tight and walked out of her old life for good.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Scarlett pictured steep slopes and snow-capped mountains, but her thoughts were vague and scattered, and when she arrived at the edge of a forest where the freezing wind whipped at her hair, she had no idea where the witch candle had sent her. She pulled the cloak tighter around her body, squinting through the darkness at the rushing, tumbling river on one side and the dense trees on the other. She closed her eyes and tried to hear nothing but the swish of leaves, the screaming wind, the roar of water. Anything to drown out—

I doubt there’s anyone left in this world who will ever want you.

A shuddering sob ripped through her at the memory of her father’s words.
Not true, not true, not true
, she told herself as she swiped furiously at the single tear trickling down her cheek. “I am independent,” she uttered in stilted, shivering tones. “I am strong. I am powerful.” But the words she wished so desperately to believe were torn away by the wind.

As she stood in the blistering cold, clutching her cloak and the candle, thoughts of the witches’ mountain teased and tempted her. The crackling fires, the thick blankets and warm furs, the comfort and safety. She had sworn to herself she’d never return to them, but what if they were her only option now? They had lied to her, but did that really matter if their home was the only place left where she might belong? And perhaps, as Tilda had said, it was all somehow a misunderstanding. They had clothed her and fed her and taught her about magic, so she knew they cared about her, even if they hadn’t been entirely honest.

And there was Thoren. He wanted her. If she went back to him now, she could give him her whole heart without having to feel guilty about it. Jack saw her as a monster, but Thoren understood her terrible power. Perhaps he was the one she was meant to be with.

She uncurled her fist and looked down at the candle in her shaking palm. To go back, or not to go back. That was—

A deafening roar pierced the night as something heavy struck her back. She went flying to the ground, losing her grip on the candle. Snarling, ripping fabric, hot, putrid breath on her neck. She rolled over, found gleaming red eyes above her, and threw a hand up. A pulse of light and energy released itself and sent the creature spinning into the air. It landed on the river bank with a grunt and a howl as Scarlett scrambled backward, feeling for the candle. Her fingers wrapped around it as the creature—a hairy wolf-like beast—rose onto its hind legs.

Scarlett climbed to her feet and ran. With the river on one side, she had no choice but to go for the trees. She yanked her dress up as she weaved this way and that. The beast crashed into the forest behind her, and a scream threatened to tear loose from her throat as she imagined its claws ripping into her at any second. Then came a roar and a whining whimper, the cracking splinter of branches, and then—nothing. Scarlett ducked behind a tree and dropped to the ground. She pressed a hand over her mouth as a deathly hush fell across the forest. Slowly—so painfully slowly—she lifted the candle. At the edge of her vision, a dark shape slithered across the leaves.

She snapped her fingers.

The shape pounced.

And her scream tore through the night as white light engulfed her.

* * *

The echo of her scream bounced across the darkened ice cave. She swung around, almost slipping, but found nothing behind her. As her galloping heart gradually slowed its pace, she patted her arms and body. No blood, no wounds. Nothing except the gashes in her cloak. She pressed a hand to her chest and closed her eyes. “I am not afraid,” she whispered. “I am independent, strong, powerful. I am not afraid.”

She opened her eyes and looked for the circle of light that indicated the entrance to the tunnels. She walked slowly toward it, giving herself time to think. She wanted to present a front of strength, to show the witches she was not to be messed with. But at the same time, she had attacked them and they had every right to be angry. Should she apologize first? Demand answers first? Would they even let her stay after what she’d done to Tilda and Malena?