Shadow Demons (14 page)

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Authors: Sarra Cannon

BOOK: Shadow Demons
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Was It You?

 

Throughout the rest of the night, I kept my eye on Mrs. Ashworth. It wasn’t hard since she was wearing a bright red sequined dress. I wanted to catch her alone so I could ask her about my mom. Unfortunately, as the current leader of the Order of Shadows, she was like a social butterfly, flitting from one table to another, talking to everyone in the room.

The party began with a four-course dinner that was actually really delicious. I’d never eaten a fancy meal like that before where waiters picked up your food and offered you coffee and dessert. I felt slightly out of place with all the fancy silverware on the table, but Jackson made it fun and Lark showed me which fork to use with each course.

After the dinner was a brief ceremony where the “Peachville Women’s Society” gave out awards for various acts of community service. I laughed when I heard the name they’d given the group. I’d been wondering how they would celebrate the Order without actually being able to tell everyone in the room who they really were. The men clapped politely while the women shared secret glances and private jokes.

Brooke helped pass out the awards, which apparently was supposed to have been my job as Prima Futura. I was relieved to be able to stay firmly in my seat.

Once the ceremony was over, everyone made their way inside to the ballroom. The beautiful wood floors were polished and gleaming. At least a thousand candles had been placed around the massive windowsills that lined three of the walls. An orchestra played at one end of the room and a long table with refreshments had been set up on the opposite side.

Jackson and I made our way slowly into the ballroom. I stretched my neck to try to see where Mrs. Ashworth had gone. I’d lost her in the crowd.

“Calm down,” Jackson said. “You’ll have plenty of time to talk to her. Why don’t you just go by her house tomorrow afternoon or something? I’ll come with you.”

I shrugged. “I don’t want to talk to her tomorrow,” I said. “I want to talk to her tonight. She was my mother’s best friend at one point, Jackson. She has to know something. Maybe she even knows who my father was. What if he’s still alive?”

“I get it,” Jackson said. “I’m just saying you shouldn’t stress yourself out if you don’t get a chance to talk to her.”

We moved over to a spot near the large arched entrance to the ballroom. That way, we were enough out of the way not to annoy people, but still close enough to the door to see everyone who came in.

The ballroom filled up quickly, but there was still no sign of Mrs. Ashworth. I was getting antsy. My stomach flip-flopped. I knew Jackson was right. I could talk to her any old time, but I’d waited so long already. I couldn’t bear to wait another minute. Besides, if she really was the one who had plotted to kill my mother all those years ago, I deserved to know.

Finally, I spotted her bright red dress through the crowd. She was still standing in the foyer, milling about and talking to people who were leaving early. I bit my lip. Would it be rude to go interrupt her? Tell her I needed to talk?

I was already on her bad side after our argument earlier in the afternoon. Maybe Jackson was right and the party was the wrong place to bring this up.

I bounced on my tip-toes, full of nervous energy. The crystal prisms hanging from the chandelier above us began to sway and clink together. I cringed. Ever since the Heritage Ritual, my powers seemed to be stronger than ever.

Jackson laughed. “Just go talk to her before you end up bringing the light fixtures down on our heads,” he said. “Do you want me to go with you?”

“Do you mind?” I asked. “I wouldn’t ask except that she got really angry with me earlier, and I completely lost my temper and broke a vase. Maybe if you’re there with me, I’ll be able to control myself.”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he said, then motioned toward the foyer.

My muscles tensed and my hands trembled as we crossed into the entry-way. Mrs. Ashworth was talking to a couple I recognized as the parents of one of my teammates. I caught her eye as I walked up and she did a slight double-take.

She excused herself from the couple and turned to walk away. I couldn’t shake the feeling she was purposely trying to avoid me.

“Mrs. Ashworth,” I called, chasing after her. “Do you have a second? There’s something I’d really like to talk to you about.”

She paused, her forehead creased. Her eyes traveled up and down my dress. She opened her mouth, but didn’t say a word.

“Mrs. Ashworth?”

She frowned. “Yes?”

“Can we talk?” I asked again.

She gave a slight shake of her head. “Yes,” she said, her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, I just had the strangest feeling of deja vu.”

I looked to Jackson. They’d both had a similar reaction to this dress. I wondered again when my mother had worn it. Something was definitely triggering a memory for both of them. A memory that seemed stuck inside their minds.

“Should we go into the other room?” I asked, looking around for a place that might be quiet and more private.

Mrs. Ashworth waved off my suggestion. “No,” she said. “I haven’t got much time.”

I cleared my throat and picked at the polish on my nails. “This might seem, well, it’s a little bit of a strange question,” I said, stumbling over my words. Now that I was standing right here in front of her, I realized I couldn’t just come right out and accuse her of some strange betrayal sixteen years ago. “I was wondering how well you knew my mother.”

Mrs. Ashworth tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “We all knew your mother,” she said. “We were on the same cheerleading squad together.”

“Yes,” I said. “I know. But I was wondering how well you knew her outside of the cheerleading team.”

I waited as Mrs. Ashworth searched my face. She looked confused and caught off guard. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said. “I was friends with your mother just like everyone else. Was there something more specific you wanted to ask me?”

I looked to Jackson for reassurance and he nodded.

I took in a deep breath.

“I found a journal of hers,” I said. “In the attic at Shadowford.”

Mrs. Ashworth’s face grew tight. “Really?” she said. “I didn’t know your mother kept a journal.”

I could tell from her tone that the idea of a journal made her uncomfortable.

“In the journal, she mentioned having a best friend,” I said. “Someone she talked to about everything. Including being pregnant with me.”

Mrs. Ashworth let out a breath, as if she were relieved.

“Was it you?” I asked, my knees trembling.

She stood up straight. “I wish it was me,” she said, her tone apologetic. “But I didn’t know anything about her having a baby until she died. Your mother and I were really close for years, but senior year she kind of withdrew from all of us. It got to a point where I felt like I didn’t even know her at all anymore. I’m so sorry I couldn’t help. Maybe you could check with the other girls on the squad? Or maybe it was someone else in the town.”

I knew she was hiding something. I could feel it in my bones. But how was I going to prove it? “So you don’t remember who my mother’s best friend was?” I asked. “Someone she hung out with a lot and would have trusted with her deepest secrets? Someone else with a first name that started with an L?”

Mrs. Ashworth cleared her throat. “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “Your mother was very secretive about her private life in that last year or two before she died. I hope you find the person you’re looking for.”

She started to walk away, but I reached out without even planning to. I couldn’t let her go.

She stared at my hand with obvious distaste. “Was there something else?” she asked, pulling her arm away.

“Just something she wrote in the margins toward the back of the journal,” I said, following some strange instinct deep inside. “I was wondering if you could tell me what it means.”

Mrs. Ashworth glanced toward the ballroom and sighed. “If you want to bring the journal by the house sometime, I’d be glad to take a look,” she said. “I really should be getting back to the guests. Have a nice evening.”

My heart raced. She knew something. I felt sure of it. There was something about the way she was trying to get out of there so fast that just felt all wrong to me. She was lying to me.

Before she disappeared around the corner, I shouted out the words from my mother’s journal. “
Deahlosi Tyanuk
.”

The words buzzed in my mouth. So full of power, it made me dizzy.

Mrs. Ashworth stopped, her feet frozen to the spot. She lifted her hands to her ears and screamed. Her voice echoed through the grand entrance. I backed up, shocked.

Slowly, she turned toward me. When her eyes met mine, there was such hatred and fire in them, it sent a chill straight to my core.

She drew in a sharp breath, and for a moment, she was so still she seemed to have turned to stone.

I tried to look away, but my eyes were glued to hers. A searing heat spread through my chest. What was happening to me? I opened my mouth and sucked in a breath, but no air would come. Panic shot through me. I used every ounce of my will to try and tear my gaze away from Mrs. Ashworth’s, but I couldn’t move.

Tears gathered in the corners of Mrs. Ashworth eyes, then rolled down her cheeks. She slowly lifted her hand to her mouth, and I could see that she was shaking.

Everything around us went dark and suddenly it was just the three of us. Mrs. Ashworth stood in front of me and Jackson stood by a window. Only we weren’t in the foyer at the party anymore. We were in a strange place I didn’t recognize. An abandoned house? In the misty darkness, it was hard to concentrate on anything solid except for a younger Lydia Ashworth. Visions flashed before my eyes. One second she was smiling and greeting me with a hug. The next, she was on her knees in front of me, her hands bound behind her back with rope. The wooden floor of the house was littered with orange and brown leaves that crackled under her knees.

“How could you?” The words came out of my mouth, but it wasn’t my voice that spoke them. This voice was similar, but slightly deeper than mine with more of a southern accent.

“You never wanted to be Prima,” she said. “You don’t deserve it. You treat the whole thing like a joke. But I wouldn’t do that. I would treat it like an honor. I would never take it for granted or try to change the traditions.”

“Traditions?” I said in my strange voice. “For that you would kill me and my child? I thought you were my best friend.”

“Claire,” Jackson said, walking up to me. “There’s no use trying to talk to her. She’s made her decision. Let’s just get this over with.”

Claire? That was my mother’s name. What was going on? Where were we?

“Do what you want to me,” the younger Lydia Ashworth said. “You can’t stop what’s coming for you.”

“I can stop you,” my mother’s voice said.

Lydia Ashworth laughed. Her voice was high and shrill and evil. “It’s too late for you, Claire. The crows are coming for you both.”

“The crows?” my mother said. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll see,” Lydia said. “Your baby will die before she’s even born.”

I raised my hand to slap her, but Jackson stepped in between us.

“That won’t help anything,” he said.

I made a fist instead and turned to punch the wall. I caught my reflection in the broken pane of the window and gasped. I was my mother. Young. And beautiful. And alive.

I didn’t want to look away, but it wasn’t me who was in control now. Somehow, the memory was in control.

I turned to Lydia Ashworth and smiled. “My baby has already been born,” my mother said. I could feel tears forming in the corners of her eyes. “And she’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She’s going to grow up far away from here where you can never find her.”

Lydia Ashworth’s face went pale. “What do you mean? That’s not possible. The baby wasn’t due for another few weeks,” she said.

“She came early,” I said in my mother’s voice. “But you won’t remember that. You won’t remember anything about being my best friend or wanting to kill me. And you won’t remember that I ever had a child.”

Lydia Ashworth began to cry. “You’re going to wipe my memory?”

“Not everything. We’re just going to take certain memories away forever,” I said, placing my hand on her forehead. “
Deahlosi Tyanuk
.”

A bright light flashed, blinding me for a moment. I stumbled backward, banging my hip against a table. When I opened my eyes again, we were back in the grand entrance.

I Could Taste Her Bitterness

 

Rage bolted through me. I looked to Mrs. Ashworth and for the first time, saw her for who she really was.

“You wanted to kill us both,” I said. “How could you do that? She trusted you. You were her best friend.”

Above us, the chandelier swayed back and forth.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mrs. Ashworth said. “You’ve gone mad.”

My mind raced to put all the pieces together. Somehow the words in my mother’s journal had opened up memories that had been locked inside. Memories that had been blocked to protect me all those years ago.

One thing I understood very clearly was that Lydia Ashworth had tried to kill my mother. She wanted my mother out of the way so she could take over the line as Prima. She’d mentioned the crows. Was Mrs. Ashworth working with them all along? Was she the one who had pledged a blood oath to them?

“You never thought my mother was good enough to be the Prima,” I said. Anger bubbled up inside my heart like a boiling pot. I couldn’t hold it in. Outside, lightning flashed.

“Harper, we have to get out of here,” Jackson said.

He reached toward me, but my body soared up into the air, flames forming on my fingertips. The swinging chandelier finally gave way, crashing down into the middle of the entryway with a great crash. The only light left was from the candlelight in the ballroom and the fire in my hands.

Fury consumed me. I wanted her dead. She had to pay for what she’d done.

A thick fireball formed in my hands and I let it fly toward Mrs. Ashworth. People screamed as they ran from the ballroom to see what was happening. I could hear Jackson yelling my name, telling me we needed to leave, but I couldn’t think logically. All I could think was revenge.

The fireball disintegrated into nothing but orange sparks before it even got close to Mrs. Ashworth. Zara stepped forward from the shadows, her white hair flowing behind her and her eyes wild.

“What are you doing?” she shouted.

“She’s gone insane,” Mrs. Ashworth said, hovering behind Zara like a scared child. “She just started attacking me out of the blue. You’ve got to bind her.”

“Harper?” Zara looked up to me, fear and concern in her eyes. “You’re the Prima Futura. Why are you acting like this?”

“I will never be Prima,” I said, flames flaring up again from my fingers as I hovered several feet above the ground. “Not if this is the type of person you want as a leader. I never wanted this in the first place. I would rather die than be a part of the Order of Shadows in this town.”

“She attacked me,” Mrs. Ashworth said. “She needs to be punished. If you won’t shackle her, I will.”

She pushed her hands out in front of her body. Black chains flew toward me, and in an instant, I threw up a shield to block her magic. The chains melted against the shield, turning into a black oily ooze.

Darkness came over me like a cloud as my shield absorbed some of Mrs. Ashworth’s energy. I could taste her bitterness on my tongue. Distracted, I didn’t even noticed the second chain heading toward me until it was too late. The shackle wrapped around my left wrist and Mrs. Ashworth began to pull me toward her.

In terror, I looked at Jackson. What had I done? In a blink, he shifted into smoke and soared up to meet me. His shadow slammed into me and the world around me turned to black.

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