I could only shrug. “To prevent them from getting whatever they wanted from her?”
“Power?” Jesse guessed. “If so, it could be a black coven.”
I remembered my mother warning me of those who drained magickal gifts and took them as their own. She’d called them ghouls, though they began as human beings. The process awoke an incessant hunger, so once they began to eat the magick of others, they could never be satiated.
The idea didn’t wholly explain things. As far as I knew, she had never revealed how much she could do. Between the orchard and the garden, we’d been close to self-sufficient, and she only made charms and potions on request: minor things, low magick. So why would a black coven decide she had enough to risk exposure in taking her? It didn’t add up.
“Why?” I asked, frustrated. “What did they hope to gain?”
“I bet it has to do with that monster in the woods,” Shannon muttered.
“Have you seen it?” With some effort, I hauled myself into a sitting position.
Shannon hesitated. “Yeah. Well, sort of. I felt it more than saw anything. We cut school and meant to get wasted out there. When it got all dark and still, Robert Walker pissed his pants. He was small and slow, kind of timid. We all ran back to where we’d parked the cars and they wouldn’t start.” She shivered, remembering. “I thought we’d never get out. It felt like the thing was playing with us, enjoying it more when we ran.”
“Did you all make it out?” Jesse asked.
She shook her head slowly. “Rob never came home.”
“When was this?” Chance sat forward, carrying me with him.
“Last April.” She considered for a moment. “April nineteenth. With all the weirdness and disappearances, it’s just not safe here anymore.”
But Dale Graham was right about one thing. Events were definitely escalating.
“In my experience,” Jesse murmured, “you just don’t get an evil monster running amok without somebody raising it.”
I sensed Chance’s agreement even before he spoke. “So the question is, who summoned it, and why?”
I intended to ask Miss Minnie that very question tonight.
Dinner Plans
To my amazement, Shannon brought me a present before I ever stumbled out of bed. The silver chain glimmered in my hand like a sliver of starlight. Somehow, she’d managed to remove all the years of tarnish and filth. My mother’s necklace looked like new—even the delicate curves of the flower pentacle.
“Thank you so much. But how did you—”
“Jesse gave it to me while you were out. He thought you might like to wear it.”
“It looks beautiful. I can’t believe how good you made it look.”
“Basic science,” she said with a shrug. “All you need is baking soda, salt, boiling water, and aluminum foil in a pan.” I could tell she was pleased with my reaction, though, despite her ostensible indifference.
“Would you mind helping me put it on?”
In answer, she leaned in and deftly fastened it around my neck. A little spark ran through me at her touch, reminding me that I needed to talk to her about her gift. “Did you notice that when we touched?”
“The static?”
I shook my head. “Wrong. That’s how Gifted people identify one another. If you touch Jesse, you’d get the same reaction.”
She seemed skeptical. “Yeah? It looked like static to me.”
Reminding myself to be patient, I explained, “Growing up in Kilmer, you wouldn’t know this any more than I did, but there’s a subsection of the populace who can do weird and amazing things, just like we can. If you let me, I can put you in touch with them.”
“You’re for real about this.” Despite her amazement, it wasn’t a question.
“Absolutely. You saw what I can do. Jesse feels what other people feel.”
“Duh. Empathy.” She spoke with a scorn that emphasized her youth.
Ah, bravado. I remembered it well. “Right. And there are more folks like us out there. If you accept me, I’ll be your mentor, teaching you as Jesse teaches me. We’re both fresh out of the woods, so to speak.”
“What does that even mean? Mentor?”
Not too long ago, I’d been asking the same thing. “I’ll help you when you need it. Answer questions. Basically it means I’ve got your back.”
A rare smile creased her thin cheeks. “I’m down with that.”
That taken care of, I hauled myself off the mattress. I shuffled toward the bathroom. I needed a shower to wash away the stench of the ruin that had nearly claimed me. As I came out of the bedroom, I heard the low murmur of voices that told me the guys were in the parlor.
It took every ounce of my strength to step into the tub. For a moment, I clung to the tiled wall, feeling shaky and nauseated. If I had any sense, I wouldn’t push myself; I’d been tested as never before. But then, if I had any sense, we probably would’ve left Kilmer as soon as the mauled dog ran into the road.
I washed up in stages, sometimes pausing to rest in between. Cursing my long hair, I managed to lather and rinse it. Good thing I had some leave-in conditioner with me. I didn’t think I was up to rinsing a second time.
My knees nearly buckled as I came out of the shower. Blindly I felt for the towel Chance had brought me a few days before. I’d hung it on a hook to dry, and happily, it was still there. Shivering, I wrapped myself in it. Brushing my teeth helped steady me too. There was nothing like waking up with the taste of revisited breakfast in your mouth. Once I finished in the bathroom, I traveled back down the hall toward my room, holding on to the wall.
The bedroom was empty when I got back. I guessed Shannon had gone to hang with the guys. I layered in getting dressed: panties, black peasant skirt, red camisole with built-in bra, and black sweater. I’d never be a fashion plate, but I liked being able to strip down if I got too warm. Dizzy from the movement, I sat down on the edge of the mattress and touched my mother’s necklace.
That reminded me.
“Call your mother,” I called to Chance.
“Already did,” he answered. “She’s fine.”
One worry put to bed, at least. I couldn’t remember how long it had been since I checked my cell phone. When I unearthed it, I had voice mail waiting. I dialed, input my code, and listened:
A computer told me I had another message, and then I heard Chuch’s voice:
Before we went out and lost service again, I needed to get in touch. I started with Booke. Doing the time conversion, I realized it would be evening there, not that I’d wake him, no matter what time I called. I wasn’t sure he ever slept.
He answered on the first ring, a sure sign he’d been waiting for my call. “Corine?”
“Yep,” I said. “What’s up?”
“I think I’ve figured out why your cell phone only worked in the library.”
Hm. I didn’t have the heart to tell him we’d been banned from the library, and events had outpaced his research. I tried to sound encouraging. “Really? Why?”
His rich, educated voice warmed with the interest he felt toward his subject matter. “Protective sigils are etched into the top of the building; very interesting ones too, from a rare Hermetic tradition, harking back to the