Salt (10 page)

The power begins to stir within me. I call on it in every way I can—in all the elements, muttering any incantation I can think of, with every image I have inside. It coils against my soul, pushes at my toes. I shove it out and water trickles out of me.

Connie’s in her old room. The flames completely separate me from her. Her cries are hysterical. I have to save my sister.

I thrust more power out, as quickly as possible. Water pours out of me, consuming me, and I pull on the magic more and more until water rushes down and completely extinguishes the wall of flames separating me from Connie. Fire still dances around us, but I have time to grab my sister and go.

“I’ll get you out, Con,” I shout, throwing a glance at Connie as I drag her behind me. Only it isn’t Connie.

It’s my mom.

When I turn around, the fire is nearer and something grapples at my feet—it’s the orange-eyed demon. The same one that killed my parents. The one that took my powers. Just the sight of it again brings all my anger to the surface.

I look at my mom, her eyes tired and her lips quivering. The sight of her lodges something in my throat. The demon yanks me away from her. I scream and kick, but my cries are lost in the sound of the flames. No one can save me. No one can save me.

The demon magic-traps me to the floor, my arms immobile. It runs a claw down the vein that snakes from my elbow to my wrist, cutting into my skin. I scream as my blood drips onto the carpet. This can’t happen. I won’t die—not like this.

I call on my magic while Mom’s cries surround me. It takes too long. I’m tired. There’s not enough strength in me to stop the demon.

What did Ellore say before?

Turn one thing into something else.

I look around the room, still unable to move. The demon’s talons curl around my mom’s neck, squeezing tighter as the blood drains from her. Crimson soaks her clothes and drips onto the floor in a puddle large enough to make me feel like I’m dying with her all over again.

“
Virtute angeli ad infernum unde venistis!
” I say.

The demon looks at me, its orange eyes almost amused. He shuffles closer to me, dropping my mom on the ground with a sickening thud. Her blood creeps across the floor and mixes with mine. I wait until he’s close to the fire, and then I picture the salt. I picture it as fire, as rain, covering everything in the room and killing the demon.

It takes half a second for the fire in the room to transform into salt. Mounds and mounds of salt. It flies through the air, trails across the ground. The orange-eyed demon stares at the transformation and trips over my foot, falling into one of those mounds. He screams as the salt burns his flesh, and I yell the incantation again as loud as I can. “
Virtute angeli ad infernum unde venistis!”
Over and over until it’s all I can say, until my voice cracks and the demon explodes into pieces, hopefully back to hell.

As soon as he’s gone, the world around me fades into white again, and then black.

I wake up with Mrs. Bentham looking down at me. “She’s awake!” she yells across the room. Way to have a piercing shrill sound in my ear. Lovely to wake up to.

Ellore comes to me, an elixir in hand and a soft expression etched into her face. “You should probably rest this weekend,” Ellore says. “This will help you regain some of your strength more quickly.”

The elixir is this horrible shade of pea green. I turn up my nose, but she raises an eyebrow. I try not to gag as I gulp it down and she sits beside me. I look at her.
What the hell kind of test was that?
I’m about to ask just that when she smiles and pats my leg.

“I’m not officially supposed to say this,” she says. “But turning the fire into salt? I’ve never seen anyone do that. It was remarkable, Miss Grey.”

Remarkable.
“Does that mean I passed?” I ask quickly. Ellore and Mrs. Bentham exchange looks.

“Miss Grey, your grandfather is outside to get you,” Mrs. Bentham says. I intake some air. They don’t speak, and I don’t know what it means. Have I failed somehow? All those years of work, all my access to clues on my magic and soon, my family. If I didn’t pass, then the only one I failed was the magic one. They must’ve figured it out, and now I’ll be labeled Static and sent away. I open my mouth to protest when she adds, “Don’t be late on Sunday.”

“Sunday?” I say, standing.

“Congratulations,” Ellore says, and as soon as the she does my lips break into a smile. I passed. I’m going to be Paired! Step one accomplished. I passed!

Outside, it’s late afternoon. The sun is a piercing heat, but I’m smiling. I am being Paired. I did it. I can’t believe it.

Pop is waiting, pulling me into a hug. “I’m so sorry,” he says.

“Why?”

Pop looks confused for a second. “Connie called and said she had to leave. I guess the Reporting Unit resolved her nonexistent case quickly.” His voice was mixed with humor and warning. If this were another day there’d be a lecture about wasting people’s time. “She didn’t know if you’d finished yet.”

That’s why I couldn’t feel her magic. I’m so glad I had Carter come.

“I guess it was enough time, since I passed,” I say.

A smile breaks out on his face. “You passed? My little granddaughter is going to be an Enforcer.”

“I’m being Paired—I’m not there yet.”

“Almost. Nothing can stop you now,” he says. He seems happy. Really happy. I’m glad someone has my corner. “Except maybe your gran.”

Right. Gran. That should be loads of fun. She couldn’t stop it from happening, but I don’t want her to disapprove all my life. I want her support.

I open the car door when I see Carter’s fancy car on the other side of the parking lot. He’s closing the door, but I yell his name anyway. He doesn’t hear me. I’ll text him later and thank him to save him the trouble of just showing up. That thought makes my stomach drop.

“Ready to go home?” Pop asks.

“Can I say no?”

“No,” he says. Time to face the firing squad.

When we pull up outside the house I’ve built Gran’s reaction in my head to go off one of two ways. One: she will actually be excited, once the shock wears off, and may hug me and say congrats and offer to go dress shopping with me for the big Pairing celebration.

Or two (the more likely scenario): she will yell, throw a few things, give me a scolding about magic and powers and how dangerous this is, and stomp off in a frenzy because I never listen to her, which I must get from my father because my mother never

disobeyed. I’ve heard that one before, but Pop assures me that Mom never listened either.

Pop reaches out and grabs my hand now. “It’s going to be fine.”

“Is ‘fine’ the new term for nuclear?”

“She won’t go nuclear, Penelope.” I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe a little.”

I cross my arms and sigh. I should just stay in the car forever. I could rot and die and never have to face her.

“She’s scared, that’s all. You should understand it from your gran’s perspective. This is dangerous for you. It reminds her of Genevieve; you remind her of Genevieve. You are so much like her.”

I wish Mom could’ve been here today. I wish we talked about her more. If we did, then maybe Gran and I could work through all this. But Mom is one of those places Gran doesn’t go. It’s like Mom is this cloud of sadness that Gran’s afraid to penetrate or everything will explode into tiny pieces, like sadness is one of those things that has to be locked away before it consumes everything.

“Let’s go,” I say. I want to hear more from him about Mom, but Pop’s eyes are glassy and that freaks me out more than facing Gran. Before the front door opens I take one last breath of air, just in case it is my last one.

Gran stares at me, arms crossed over her chest. She doesn’t look angry, or sad, or anything. Her face is completely devoid of emotion. Which makes her terrifying.

She glances at Pop and back to me. “Will you excuse us? I’d like to talk to Penelope.”

Pop lingers in the kitchen, but it’s barely enough time for me to say his name before he’s gone. I’m left alone in the ocean and they’ve released the kraken.

“Sit, Penelope.” It’s not a request, so I don’t waste time. Gran looks at me from across the table. “This is what you want?”

That is not the question I expected. “Yes.”

“You know what it can cost you. Especially if the truth is revealed. Your status as witch, if you’re lucky. Your life with this family, and more, if you aren’t.”

I gulp and nod my head. She’s never been this candidly calm. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Pop and your parents all served the Triad—and I may not have served, but I know what they ask of their Enforcers. I know the costs, the strain, and the heartache. In a second everything can be gone. Just remember that.” Gran’s blue eyes are shiny with water. She looks away from me, focuses on some spot on the wall, and I really want her to say “good job.” That’s all I want. For her to approve.

“You know how I feel about this, so I won’t linger on it. I’ve said my piece, and now it’s up the Triad. Not to me. I know you’ve worked hard to get here and it couldn’t have gone to a more deserving person, Penelope. No matter how foolish it may seem.”

Did she just say that to me? That’s approval, the kind only given in Gran’s way. Well, not complete approval, but support. I smile, I can’t help it, and launch myself up into her arms. It happens so quickly that she doesn’t expect it either, but she hugs me back, and we stand there that way for an eternity, or at least a few seconds that feel like an eternity.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She unlocks her arms from around me. “Don’t be so shocked, Penelope,” she says. “I can honor hard work; I just wish it had gone toward a different goal. I don’t understand your desire, especially considering what you’re lacking, but I don’t have to understand. I will never love it, but I love you, and if you make it to the end, you have my support.”

I exhale. “Why couldn’t you tell me that from the beginning?”

Gran’s eyes narrow on me as she lowers herself into a seat. “I wanted you to know what you were risking, and I didn’t want to encourage you to go down a dangerous road. Maybe I thought you’d change your mind, but you haven’t. I didn’t know you would even make it this far without magic; passing that last test was a miracle, Penelope, but here we are.”

I pause because
wow
. It’s one thing for Gran to think that; it’s another thing for her to say it. She didn’t think I’d get here, even though I’ve put in so much work.

We’re both silent for a moment, and I should tell her about Carter. I should tell her that he’s the reason I passed, not Connie, and about the demon and everything else that’s happened. Especially considering what I found about Alfie Spencer, she would know more about him than me.

“Gran,” I start, “do you know an Alfie Spencer?”

Gran rises from the table. Her eyes dart around the room. “When is the Pairing ceremony?” She moves toward the calendar.

“Sunday,” I say. I still can’t believe this is her reaction. I thought for sure I was roasted. Or at the very least, toasted. I watch while she scribbles notes on the calendar.

“Alfie Spencer, Gran?”

“Never heard of him,” she says. She throws the pen on the table and walks toward the door to the kitchen. I raise an eyebrow and Gran looks over her shoulder. “You better get a dress.”

“Gran—”

“Penelope, don’t.”

She’s gone before I can speak again, and her reaction is enough to tell me that she does know the name Alfie Spencer. And whatever it is, she doesn’t want me to know.

Chapter Eleven

Connie, Thomas, Ric, and I walk in a line down the path in the mall. We’ve already been through the whole left side, but nothing is acceptable by Connie’s standards for my dress, and then when she likes it, I don’t. I hate dresses. Ric, however, has bought two suits for the Pairing, claiming he’ll decide the day of which one he wanted to wear. “I like options.”

“We’ll find something,” Connie says as we leave another store.

“Totally. There will be something in this mall for you,” Ric says in agreement, but I shrug. I don’t really think we will. I refuse to wear anything pink, anything puffy, and anything that makes noise when I walk. This whole ceremony is sort of a ridiculous party where they make a big deal out of introducing us to our partners. The only ceremony that matters is the next one where I get my badges. The rest of this is just for show, especially because Enforcers would never wear dresses or suits on the job.

I’d rather be doing something that matters, like spending my Saturday at the library looking up information about Alfie Spencer. Gran’s reaction from Thursday still sits wrong with me.

“Oh, look,” Connie says, pointing into a store window. The dress is bright red and short and low-cut. I shake my head and Thomas grabs Connie’s hand. His fingers are wrapped around hers, and this little twinge of jealousy seeps through me. I hope someone holds my hand that way someday when he gives up a Saturday to dress shop at the mall with me for my sister.

I shake my head.
Where did that come from?
I’ve never wanted that.

“You okay?” Ric asks.

“I just want this to be over,” I say. And I do. I have a date with the library. Now that I’ve passed the magic test, the answers I’m looking for are even more important. The demon and Alfie are connected, and maybe if I figure out how then I can find the demon. I’m going to be Paired and then I’ll need magic that’s my own. My future depends on the Restitution.

We walk into another shop, and divide and conquer. Ric and I take one end of the women’s section; Connie and Thomas take the other. We’ll meet in the middle with anything we like and decide if there’s a keeper. There’s usually not.

I dig through a round rack of dresses. Blue, purple, red, pink, but I do not want to wear that. Ric whistles and holds up a black dress with a long slit up the side. I shake my head.

“It’s hot,” he says.

“Yeah, if you are a supermodel,” I say.

At the thought of supermodels, I think about Carter and his smile. He could be a model with that smile. I’d buy whatever he was selling.

I check my phone for a missed call, but nothing. I’d texted Carter twice to thank him for coming to the Nucleus House, but he never responded. Maybe he’s changed his mind about me. I don’t know if that thought makes me happy or sad.

“Penelope!” Connie yells. I look her way. She and Thomas are waving their hands in the air. People are staring as Thomas sings my name from across the store over and over. My face is hot, probably bright red before I even make it to them. Connie holds a dress. A sleeveless, metallic olive dress with a wraparound waist that puffs out around the knees.

I shake my head, but Ric grabs my shoulders. “That one, darlin’. Your dress.”

I shake my head. “No way I’m wearing that. It’s puffy.”

“You would be hot in this,” she says.

“Totally,” Ric says.

Thomas just stands there, not really having an opinion at all. I wish Ric were more like that—opinionless. He should not side with my sister over a dress.

“I don’t even want a stupid dress,” I say.

“Rules are rules, but you should look good when you meet him,” Connie says.

“This was made for you. Go put it on,” Ric says.

Connie holds it in the air. “You know you want to.” The fabric is glimmering and icy-slick under my hands. It is pretty, but no. I can’t wear that. Connie grabs my elbow and drags me along through more racks of clothes.

“You’re trying this on.”

She shoves me in a dressing room, and Ric holds the door shut so I can’t get out. I hate them both.

The way the dress shines under the glow of the bad lighting reminds me a bit of Carter’s eyes. I slip off my clothes, and try to decide if this is one of those moments that will define me. The dress slides smoothly over my chest and zips up the left side. I stare at myself for a second. I don’t look like me.

Connie pounds on the door. “Let us see you, hot stuff.”

I sigh and unlock the door. Thomas’s eyes get wide, Ric whistles, and Connie squeals when I step out, my toes sticking to the tile floor, the bottom of the dress tickling my kneecaps. A girl next to us looks over at me, then back to her reflection.

“You are totally buying that dress,” Ric says.

“You look hot, Penelope,” Connie says. She runs her hands across the waist and tightens the wraparound fabric. In the back, she ties it into a bow.

“You’re well on your way to being Mrs. Nose-picker McEllory,” Thomas says. I glare at him and Ric laughs, too. Connie swats at Thomas. James McEllory. I still couldn’t believe he passed.

Connie drags me toward the three-sided mirror and I can see myself in every direction. It does look good. It hits in all the right places. I don’t even look like me.

I totally want it.

“You’re going to buy it, right?” she whispers in my ear.

I nod slowly, taking in the dress. “Can we get silver shoes?” I ask.

Connie smiles and squeals a little. Sometimes I wonder why she wasn’t born first. She’s better at everything—even at dressing me.

We buy a pair of silver shoes with straps that layer across the top before we walk Ric to the entrance of Hollister. The smell of the perfume is so strong from outside.

“I don’t know how you work in there,” Thomas says.

“A thirty percent discount, that’s how,” Ric says back. He pulls me into a hug. “Hang out after I’m off? Our last night of freedom.”

“Definitely.”

He pulls me to arm’s length and looks at my sister. “Our baby girl is all grown up and going to the ball.”

I slap his arm and he sighs heavily before leaving us to go to work.

The three of us stand there for a moment before I announce, “I need coffee.”

Oh, sweet coffee. I toss in some sugar and add milk until the coffee turns light. It’s only noon and we are done.

Thomas and Connie are ahead talking about something when he pauses and stops in the middle of the food court.

“Do you guys smell that?” Thomas asks. I sniff the air, but it’s only the smell of burned cheese, bad Chinese food, and body odor. At first. Then it’s stronger, rotten.

“Sulfur,” I whisper. Thomas nods. I sniff the air again—it’s faint, masked among all the other scents of Nons, but there.

“If there’s a demon around we have to find it,” Connie says.

Thomas nods. “Yeah. Let’s split up and see if we see anything.” He swipes a handful of salt packets off the counter. Some woman next to him gives him a weird look as he hands us each some. I take it even though I already have some in my necklace. Gran would be proud.

We split up like we’re the Scooby gang, going in three different directions and searching for clues, such as black dust trailing behind Nons like bread crumbs, or stronger whiffs of the sulfur/rotting-eggs smell. Neither are things that Nons notice; the dust looks like dirt to the normal eye, and Nons pass the smell off as a whiff of sewage.

Find the trail, sniff out the demon, and get rid of him. Should be easy with hundreds of Nons walking around the mall. We shouldn’t do magic here since we’re underage, but extenuating circumstances, right? No time to find an adult witch, or call in reinforcements.

I start on the west end doorways of the food court, where the court branches off into the larger hallway of strip shops. I run a finger along the base of the floors, ignoring the weird looks from other Nons. No dust.

“It didn’t come in this way.”

I look up and Carter’s walking toward me. I wipe my hands together as I stand. I have to gulp down my emotions at the sight of him, mostly because I’m not sure if I’m happy or just curious or something more than those combined. His arms are crossed over his chest when he stops in front of me.

“It came in through the back door of Sears. Took over an employee.”

“Let me guess, you were tracking it.”

He shrugs. “A stalker has to do something in his off time.”

I grab my shoes and dress off the floor. “What’s the employee look like?”

Carter moves faster to catch up with me. “Well, he’ll be the one with bright-green eyes, for a start.”

“Sure, let’s just walk through the mall and scan a few hundred Nons for lime-colored eyes. Piece of cake.” Some girl gives me a weird look when she moves past us in the crowd of people. They think that’s weird because they have no idea.

“It possessed a Non boy—short brown hair, eyeliner,” Carter says.

“Eyeliner?” Sears employees are getting edgy.

Carter shrugs. I shake my head and wave over at Connie and Thomas from across the food court. “It’s little sister,” Carter says. “That your brother?”

“Boyfriend.”

“You have a boyfriend?” he asks, this weird note in his voice.

“Hers,” I say. “You’re a poor excuse for a stalker.” He looks a little relieved, and my stomach churns. I really need to ask him about yesterday. Connie raises an eyebrow when she gets near enough to see Carter and I shake my head slightly.
Do not start a scene, Con
.

“Carter, Thomas,” I say, introducing them.

They do that weird guy-nod thing.

“I saw the demon. He’s taken on Non form,” Carter says.

“Where did he go?” Thomas asks.

“If I were a demon, I’d go where no one could see me,” I say.

“Which is?” Connie asks.

“They’re at the movie theater,” a voice calls to us. The voice is fuzzy white noise, and we all turn, on guard. It’s a demon with mauve skin and round green eyes. Nons walk right past it, not even seeing it in the crowd. We probably look like we’re staring at the air. Sometimes demons can be invisible, but this is a new level of strange, talking to a demon in the middle of a food court.

Carter takes a step forward, but the mauve demon shakes its head.

“You should probably hurry,” it says with a smile before it disappears. We’re all quiet for half a second. I have never in my life seen a demon talk to a witch, let alone help one. Or three. This day is weird.

Thomas is on his phone in the next second, calling the Enforcers. This got too weird for us alone. While he talks, Carter gives me a look. He wants to go after the demon.

“We can’t,” I whisper.

“Aren’t you about to be an Enforcer? Why do we have to wait for them?” he asks.

I look at my sister, who stares at us intently. Even Thomas sends us looks while he answers questions and explains things on the phone. This is crazy. A demon just told us about another demon. Totally a trap. Or something. We should not go after it.

Thomas hangs up the phone just as Carter says, “I’m going.”

The four of us exchange looks and then, in a beat, we all take off in a run toward the theater. Nons jump out our way as we zoom past them. The crinkle of the black plastic over my dress flaps against me as we move. The corner of the shoebox jabs into my calf before Carter pulls me to a stop. He and Thomas start moving around the space to set up the glamour. Anyone who looks would only see an empty, open space, not three teenagers killing a demon.

The four of us surround the entrance of the theater. The guy—full-out decked in eyeliner, a black shirt and silver earrings in his nose, with flashing emerald eyes—stands before us, talking to a girl. His eyes turn brown again, just for a second. The Non is still alive, so that’s good. But the demon’s lips are close to her neck. One bite anywhere, one taste of her blood, is all it takes. They have no control. Once its saliva is part of her, it will paralyze her, contaminate her, and kill her. Or worse. Nons are the weakest prey, too trusting. Demons have a lot of uses for Nons. If they’re bored, they like to play. They like to eat. They like to make more demons. They just like to feel powerful. One bite and the outcome can end in too many unsettling ways.

“Glamour is set,” Carter whispers to us.

Connie walks up to the demon boy, and he turns his head away from the Non. She’s a pro at this distraction game. One glance at her, one sniff of her essence, and the demon totally forgets about the girl. She walks away, offended and a little confused. Whatever she could’ve offered, Connie’s is better. The blood of a witch is sweet and the essence, well, it’s why demons are public enemy number one. It’s our power over them.

“Do you have a phone I can use?” she asks.

The demon’s red eyes are completely focused on my sister. “Sure,” it says, pulling one out of his too-tight jeans. My sister fawns her thanks and dials a number on the phone. The demon moves closer to her. Then, the boys ambush.

Thomas moves first, tossing the salt on the demon. It hisses and its skin pops under the burn. Carter’s right behind him, iron pole that unfolds like an umbrella in hand.

“Behind you!” I shout to Connie as another demon jumps into our area. But my sister is quick, pulling her own stash of salt and iron from her tall black boots. Thomas leaves Carter and goes to help her. I move toward Carter. Since he’s here, I can help. Maybe I can contain the demon. Right before I reach him something tumbles into me and knocks me into the floor.

An older woman with graying hair pulled back into a bun. And demon eyes. Another possessed Non.

I think Connie yells at me in the distance, but I’m not sure. I’m too focused on the old woman demon sitting on my chest. I do my best to maneuver so it’s under me, but it’s strong—really strong for a demon in the shape of an old woman—and its claws are digging into my arm. One of them draws blood.

“Stupid witch,” the demon hisses at me.

Carter rushes at us. With a flick of the demon’s wrist he’s flying. A nail digs into my arm, making the wound deeper, and blood drips to the floor. It licks its lips. Something clicks inside of me at that. Warmth washes over me, filling me up and out. I order up my magic, letting the images and sparks build before I heave the demon across the room. It’s not me moving—it’s the magic moving me. And then somehow I’m right on the demon, my gaze boring into its.