King 03 - Restless (28 page)

“No. Nell came. Nell saved me. I know it sounds crazy—”

“Tasmyn, if you can, I want you to go home. Can you do that? I’m on my way to her house now, and I promise you, I’m taking care of this. Do you think you can make it? Or do you want me to send someone to you, to help you?”

“No. I can make it home. But please—don’t hurt Nell. She saved me. She was trying to help.” I was babbling now.

“Don’t worry.” Detective Lawrence soothed me. “Just go home. I’ll be in touch.” With that, he hung up.

I dropped my head onto the steering wheel for only a moment, trying to gather what was left of my sanity, but when I looked up, Marica was standing in front of the car. 

Fleetingly I thought that she truly did look like all the witches in every picture book I’d ever read. Her dark hair stood out from her head, which was thrown back to the sky. She was chanting something, loudly. I gripped the wheel and tried to turn it, pressed my foot on the gas pedal. But nothing happened.

I was frightened, and then suddenly, I wasn’t. I don’t know what changed, but in that second, I was tired of being scared. I was mad.

At once the wind began to whip around the car. Marica dropped her head and glared at me, and pain flared within my head. Gritting my teeth, I focused on the air outside. A strong gust blew up from behind me, and Marica stumbled back. 

I tried to take advantage of her distraction and floored the gas pedal again. The car lurched forward only about a foot before it screeched to a halt again. Marica had regained her footing and closed her eyes. I anticipated what she was going to do only nanoseconds before I felt the burst of energy and saw the flames leap up around my car.

I could feel the heat and I could hear the crackling of the fire. I thought about trying to call up water from the earth as I’d seen her do, but I wasn’t sure I could do it. At her house, the water was in the pipes; all I had to do was summon it. While I knew I could make water dance, without a doubt air was my strongest—if least predictable-element. 

I took a deep breath and screwed shut my eyes. Going deep within, I spoke to the wind, and I dipped into my well of emotions. Pictures skittered across my mind as I worked to find the strongest feelings. Michael, on my first day of school in King—Nell holding the knife against his face that day in the clearing—the day he left for college—the moment I told him I didn’t want to see him again—

The car rocked, and I was thrown forward against the steering wheel. A whirlwind formed, bigger than anything I’d ever conjured. Above us, the sky darkened and lightening sliced the air. The cyclone shook my car again before it skirted around toward the front. It sucked the flames from around me and drew them away, until Marica was completely enclosed within walls of fire.

I caught one last glimpse of her eyes, crazed and despairing, before she was hidden behind the flames.

With shaking hands, I turned the steering wheel and found that the car was responding again. I backed up, away from the heat, but I couldn’t leave, not yet. I closed my eyes again and used all of my remaining strength to call up water, from any source, anywhere. I couldn’t let her burn. I had to try to do something. I cast my focus deep within the ground until I sensed just the faintest damp glimmer-

“Tasmyn!” I jumped at the pounding on my window, half certain that somehow Marica was there. But it was only Sam Lawrence, looking grim. 

I opened the door just a crack. “She followed me here. I didn’t know what to do. She was going to burn me, in the car. I didn’t know what to do.” I realized I was babbling again. 

Detective Lawrence opened the door and knelt next to me. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m okay. But Marica—” I turned my head, dreading to see her burning in front of me.

But the fire was gone. Two other policemen and a paramedic were trying to subdue Marica, who was screaming at them. Sam Lawrence followed my gaze.

“We’ve got it,” he said simply. “Would you like me to drive you home?”

I don’t really remember the ride home. I focused all of my energy on breathing evenly, on not losing control in front of Detective Lawrence. He pulled into our driveway, and I scrambled out of the car and into the house, barely aware of him calling out my name as I ran.

The blessed peace and normalcy of our home overwhelmed me at once. I closed the door and sank to the floor in tears.

And that’s how my parents found me, moments later.

Tasmyn, I just want to remind you of something tonight. It doesn’t matter what happens while we’re apart, because we’re going to be together again. I don’t know everything that you’re dealing with, but I can promise you that I won’t be the one to let go of you. I love you. Call me.

Since we moved to King, my parents had dealt with quite a few changes in me. But nothing had prepared them for the story I spilled that night, as we sat huddled in the living room. 

Sam Lawrence had stayed only long enough to make sure that my parents were home, that I was safely in their arms.  He nodded to them, and when they asked what had happened, he cast me a meaningful glance.

“I think your daughter is ready to tell you everything,” he said before he left, closing the door carefully behind him.

My mother had wrapped me in a quilt, but I was still shaking. When I finished talking, I wasn’t sure if their silence, stretching long between us, was more from shock or anger. Even reading their feelings as I could, it was hard to discern between the two. 

Finally my father spoke. “Tasmyn. I really don’t know what to say. The lies… what you’ve kept from us… it just blows my mind.” His eyes leveled to mine. I saw hurt and disbelief.

“Rob, let’s take one thing at a time.” My mother pulled me close and held me. “She’s all right. She came to us now. There’s nothing that can’t be—rectified.”

My father didn’t say anything else, but I sensed the turmoil they were both feeling, the mixture of anger, hurt and disappointment. Feeling what they were feeling was more painful than anything they could say out loud to me.

We sat there for hours. My parents occasionally asked me questions, and I answered them, with as much detail and honesty as I could muster. I cried through some of the telling, but this time, they were tears of release.

It was late when we heard a car door open outside. I panicked, struggling to my feet, but my father stopped me with a hand on my shoulder. He glanced through the window and offered me a brief smile of reassurance.

“It’s the detective.” He opened the door just as Sam Lawrence raised his hand to knock.

Sam looked utterly weary, and his face was grim. He took the seat my dad offered.

“I assume Tasmyn filled you in on everything that happened this afternoon?” he asked.

“Yes,” I answered. “I told them all of it.” My mother squeezed my hand, and I swallowed back more tears.

Detective Lawrence nodded. He flickered a glance between us. “Good. I’m hoping this is all over now.”

“What happened? To Marica, I mean, and to Nell?”

“Marica Lacusta has been taken into custody. We’re going to need a statement from you, about the fact that she held you against your will, but she’s given us enough already to charge her with kidnapping, and probably accessory to some other crimes.”

“She
admitted
that to you?” I was incredulous. Until today, I had never seen a situation Marica didn’t have completely under control.

“She was pretty wild when we got to her. I guess you could see that.” I nodded. “The fire… she was burned some, but nothing life threatening. It took some doing to subdue her. She was yelling about blood, knives… young girls and sacrifices… I thought the officer writing it all down was going to pop his eyes out of his head, some of the stuff she said.” He rubbed his own eyes wearily. “And once we got her to the hospital, it got worse. Yep, pretty wild.” He looked at me pointedly, and I picked up some images from his mind: Marica fighting doctors, objects flying around the room, windows shaking… I shuddered.

“But what about Nell?” I pressed. 

Sam met my eyes evenly. “What about Nell? Ms. Lacusta admitted to having prior knowledge about the crime Nell Massler committed last year. She also told us all about her chemistry club and her—um, extracurricular work with you.”

“Yes, but—Nell was there. I only got away because she helped me. Didn’t you…” Pieces were falling into place. “You didn’t see her.”

Sam shifted in his chair. “I checked. We went back to the house, after we got Marica calmed down. It was empty. Not a soul there. And I called to make sure of it - Nell Massler is still in the same mental health facility she’s been in for over a year.” His gaze shifted somewhere above my head. “But… there was some news about her. Apparently she attempted suicide tonight. Cut her arms and her neck pretty badly.” At my gasp, the detective only nodded. “And it wasn’t the first time. She’s been cutting herself now and then for a while. They can’t seem to figure out where she’s getting the blades. Anyway, up until now, it’s been fine, she hasn’t done any real harm, but tonight, she almost died. Almost bled out. And she’s in a coma. Completely unresponsive.”

I dropped my head into my hands as the weight of this information fell on me. I remembered all the times I had dreamed of Nell, the scars on her arms, the blood on her neck and her cryptic references to what it took for her to visit me. 

“Well.” Detective Lawrence was finished here. He had imparted the necessary information, and he was ready to leave. “If you don’t mind, we need you to come by the station tomorrow and give us your statement. I have a feeling she’s going to plead out to insanity, but we need to have everything in order.” He half smirked. “She doesn’t have a rich father to put her away.”

I had one more worry. “Is Marica—Ms. Lacusta—in jail? She can—do stuff, you know. She can open things and move—”

“Tasmyn.” The detective patted my shoulder as he rose. “I know what she can do. She’s heavily sedated, and she’s under watch in the hospital. There are guards there who—well, let’s just say they have some experience in this area and a special set of skills. Don’t worry. I know what I’m dealing with.” He glanced at my parents. “Good night, folks.”