The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection (26 page)

Read The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection Online

Authors: L. J. Smith

Tags: #Young Adult, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Vampires, #Juvenile Fiction, #Teenage Girls, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Love & Romance, #Witchcraft, #Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Issues, #Young Adult Fiction, #love, #Dating & Sex, #Massachusetts

BOOK: The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection
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Adam belonged to Diana. Cassie knew that Diana had never thought of life without Adam, that all Diana’s plans and hopes and dreams involved him. Diana and Adam were meant to be together. . . .
She thought suddenly of the way Diana’s haunting green eyes brightened when she saw Adam, of the tender, radiant look Diana got even talking about him.
And Adam loved Diana too. Cassie knew that as surely as she knew her own feelings. Adam idolized Diana; he adored her with a love as pure and strong and indestructible as Diana’s for him.
But Cassie knew now that Adam loved her as well. How could you love two people? How could you be in love with two at the same time? Still, there was no way to deny it. The chemistry between herself and Adam; the empathy, the bond that drew them together, couldn’t be ignored. Clearly, it
was
possible to love two different people at once.
And Diana had the first claim.
“You still love her,” Cassie whispered, needing to confirm it. An ache was beginning deep inside her.
He shut his eyes. “Yes.” His voice was ragged. “God, Cassie—I’m sorry . . .”
“No, that’s good,” she said. She knew the ache now. It was the pain of loss, of emptiness, and it was growing. “Because I do, too. And I don’t want to hurt her. I never wanted to hurt her. That’s why I promised myself I’d never let either of you know . . .”
“It’s my fault,” he said, and she could hear the self-condemnation in his voice. “I should have realized sooner. I should have recognized how I felt and dealt with it. Instead, I forced you into exactly what you were trying to prevent.”
“You didn’t force me,” Cassie said softly, honestly. Her voice was quiet and steady; everything was simple and clear again, and she knew what she had to do. “It was both our faults. But that doesn’t matter; the only thing that matters is that it can never happen again. We have to make sure of that, somehow.”
“But how?” he said bleakly. “We can be sorry all we want—I can hate myself—but if we’re ever alone again . . . I don’t know what will happen.”
“Then we can’t be alone. Ever. And we can’t sit near each other, or touch, or even let ourselves think about it.” She was telling him what to do, but she wasn’t afraid. She felt only the certainty of what she was saying.
His eyes were dark. “I admire your self-control,” he said, even more bleakly.
“Adam,” she said, and she felt the melting inside her just at saying his name. “We
have
to. When you came back Tuesday night after my initiation, when I realized that you and Diana . . . Well, that night I swore I would never let Diana be hurt because of how I felt about you. I swore I’d never betray her. Do
you
want to betray her?”
There was a silence, and she felt the involuntary heave of his lungs. And with her inner senses she felt his agony. Then he let his breath out and shut his eyes again. When he opened them, she saw his answer before he spoke it, and felt it as his arms released her and he sat back, the cold air rushing in between their bodies, separating them at last.
“No,” he said, and there was new strength in his voice. And in his face a new resolution.
They looked at each other then, not like lovers, but like soldiers. Like comrades-in-arms utterly determined to reach some common goal. Their passion held down and locked away, so deep that no one else would ever see it. It was a new closeness, maybe even more intimate than the trust of boyfriend and girlfriend. Whatever happened, whatever it cost them, they would not betray the girl they both loved.
Looking right into her eyes, he said, “What oath was it you swore that night? Was it one you got from somebody’s Book of Shadows?”
“No,” Cassie said, and then she stopped. “I don’t know,” she qualified. “I thought I was making it up, but now it seems like it might have come from something longer. It just went, ‘Not by word or look or deed . . .’”
He was nodding. “I’ve read one with those lines. It’s old—and it’s powerful. You call on the four Powers to witness you, and if you ever break the oath, they’re free to rise against you. Do you want to swear it again now? With me?”
The abruptness of his question took her breath away. But she was eternally proud of herself that with scarcely any hesitation she spoke clearly. “Yes.”
“We need blood.” He stood and took a knife out of his back pocket. Cassie thought she was surprised, then decided she wasn’t. However nice a guy Adam might be, he was used to taking care of himself.
Without any particular flourish, he cut his palm. The blood showed black in the dim silvery light. Then he handed the knife to her.
Cassie sucked in her breath. She wasn’t brave, she hated pain . . . But she gritted her teeth and put the knife against her palm. Just think of the pain you could have caused
Diana
, she thought, and with a quick motion she brought the knife downward. It hurt, but she didn’t make any noise.
She looked up at Adam.
“Now, say after me,” he said. He held his palm up to the star-filled sky. “Fire, Air, Earth, Water.”
“Fire, Air, Earth, Water . . .”
“Listen and witness.”
“Listen and witness.” Despite the simple words, Cassie felt that the elements had indeed been evoked and were listening. The night had a sudden feeling of electricity, and the stars overhead seemed to burn colder and brighter. Gooseflesh broke out on her skin.
Adam turned his hand sideways so that the black drops fell onto the scraggly beach grass and the sandy earth. Cassie watched, mesmerized. “I, Adam, swear not to betray my trust—not to betray Diana,” he said.
“I, Cassie, swear not to betray my trust . . .” she whispered, and watched her own blood trickle off the side of her hand.
“Not by word, or look, or deed, waking or sleeping, by speech or by silence . . .”
She repeated it in a whisper.
“. . . in this land or any other. If I do, may fire burn me, air smother me, earth swallow me, and water cover my grave.”
She repeated it. As she spoke the last words, “and water cover my grave,” she felt a
snapping
, as if something had been set in motion. As if the fabric of space and time right here had been plucked, once, and was resonating back into place. Breath held, she listened to it a moment.
Then she looked at Adam. “It’s over,” she whispered, and she didn’t just mean the oath.
His eyes were like silver-edged darkness. “It’s over,” he said, and reached his bloodstained palm out to her. She hesitated, then took his hand with her own. She felt, or imagined she felt, their blood mingling, falling to the ground together. A symbol of what could never be.
Then, slowly, he released her.
“You’ll give the rose back to Diana?” she asked steadily.
He took the chalcedony piece out of his pocket, held it in the palm that was still wet. “I’ll give it to her.”
Cassie nodded. She couldn’t say what she meant, which was that was where the stone belonged, Adam belonged.
“Good night, Adam,” she said softly instead, looking at him standing there on the bluff with the night sky behind him. Then she turned and walked toward the lighted windows of her grandmother’s house. And this time he didn’t call her back.
 
“Oh, yes,” Cassie’s grandmother said. “This was in the front hall this morning. Someone must have put it through the letter slot.” She handed Cassie an envelope.
They were sitting at the breakfast table, the Sunday morning sun shining through the windows. Cassie was astonished at how normal everything was.
But one look at the envelope and her heart plummeted. Her name was written on the front in a large, careless hand. The ink was red.
She tore it open and stared at the note inside while her Raisin Bran got soggy. It read:
 

Cassie—

You see I’m using my own name this time. Come over to my house (Number Six) sometime today. I have something special I want to talk to you about. Believe me, you don’t want to miss this.

Love and kisses,

Faye

P.S. Don’t tell anyone in the Club you’re coming to see me. You’ll understand when you get here.

 
Cassie was tingling with alarm. Her first impulse was to call Diana, but if Diana had been up all night purifying the skull, she was probably exhausted. Faye was the last thing she needed to deal with.
All right, I won’t disturb her, Cassie thought grimly. I’ll go and see what Faye’s up to first. Something about the ceremony, I’ll bet. Or maybe she’s going to call for a leadership vote.
Faye’s house was one of the nicest on the street. A housekeeper let Cassie in, and she remembered Diana saying that Faye’s mother was dead. There were a lot of single-parent families on Crowhaven Road.
Faye’s room was a rich girl’s room. Cordless phone, PC, TV and VCR, tons of CDs. Huge, lush sprawling flowers patterned everything, including a bed heaped with soft cushions and embroidered pillows. Cassie sat down on the window seat, waiting for Faye to appear. There were red candles, not lit, on the nightstand.
Suddenly the dust ruffle on the bed stirred, and out poked the face of a little orange kitten. It was followed almost immediately by a little gray one.
“Oh, you darling,” Cassie said, enchanted in spite of herself. She would never have guessed Faye was the type to keep kittens. She sat very still, and to her delight the two little creatures came all the way out. They jumped up on the window seat and ranged over her, purring like motorboats.
Cassie giggled and squirmed as one climbed her sweater and perched, precariously, on her shoulder. They were adorable kittens, the orange fluffy and spiky with baby fur, the gray sleek and tidy. Their tiny needle claws pricked her as they climbed all over her. The orange one got in her hair and poked bluntly behind her ear, and she laughed again.
He was trying to nurse, kneading his little paws against her neck. She could feel his cold little nose. The gray one was doing the same thing from the other side. Oh, what darling, darling little . . .
“Ouch!”
she cried. “Ow—oh, don’t! Get off, you! Get off!”
She pulled at the tiny bodies, trying to detach them. They were tangled in her hair and they hung on with claws—and teeth. When Cassie finally managed to pry them away, she almost threw them to the ground. Then her hands flew to her neck.
Her fingers came away wet. She stared in shock at the redness.
They’d
bitten
her, the little monsters. And now they were sitting on the floor and composedly licking the blood off their chops. A surge of violent revulsion passed through Cassie.
From the doorway, Faye chuckled.
“Maybe they’re not getting all their vitamins and minerals from the kitten chow,” she said.
She was looking stunning this morning. Her tangled pitch-black hair was still wet and cascaded down in yards of natural curls. Her skin was damp and glowing against her burgundy robe.
I shouldn’t have come, Cassie thought, feeling a wave of irrational fear. But Faye wouldn’t dare to hurt her now. Diana would find out, the Circle would find out. Faye must know she couldn’t get away with it.
Faye seated herself on the bed. “So how did you like the ceremony last night?” she asked casually.
I knew it. “It was fine until
something
went wrong,” said Cassie. Then she just looked at Faye again.
Faye laughed her rich, slow laugh. “Oh, Cassie. I like you. I really do. I saw that there was something special about you from the beginning. I know we didn’t exactly get the best start, but I think that’s going to change now. I think we’re going to be good friends.”
Cassie was speechless a moment. Then she managed to say, “I don’t think so, Faye.”
“But
I
think so, Cassie. And that’s what counts.”
“Faye . . .” Somehow, after last night Cassie found she had the courage to say things she wouldn’t even have dreamed of saying before. “Faye, I don’t think you and I have much in common. And I don’t think I even
want
to be good friends with you.”
Faye only smiled.
“That’s too bad,” she said. “Because, you see, I know something, Cassie. And I think it’s the sort of thing you’d want only a very good friend to know.”
The world rocked under Cassie’s feet.
Faye couldn’t be saying—oh, she couldn’t be saying what Cassie thought she was. Cassie stared at the older girl, feeling something like ice congeal in her stomach.
“You see,” Faye went on, “I happen to have a lot of other friends. And they tell me things, interesting things they see and hear around the neighborhood. And you know what? Last night one of those friends saw something very, very interesting on the bluff.”

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