Poltergeeks (25 page)

  His ass was grass.

  I raced over to Marcus and drew him into my arms, but he wasn't breathing. "Marcus, can you hear me?" I whispered in his ear. "Come back to me! Please come back!"

  He still wasn't breathing so I opened his mouth and started puffing air into his lungs. His skin felt cold and clammy as I pressed two fingers against his neck in search of a pulse.

  His heart wasn't beating. A crushing pain seized me. I let out a primal wail that echoed through the wrecked stadium as I pulled him against my chest.

  "Don't go, Marcus," I sobbed, as I started rocking him gently. "Please don't do this. I read your letter, all those beautiful things you wrote. Just come back, okay? I need you. I can't do this without you, Marcus. Please, for the love of God come back to me!"

  There was silence for a few more seconds and then I felt his heart slowly come back to life. He twitched a few times and then he stared up into my face and blinked weakly.

  "Ow," he whispered.

  And then something unexpected happened.

  My thumping, panic-stricken heart
actually
skipped a beat.

  "Marcus!" I cried, as I buried my face in his chest. "Oh, Marcus! Thank God you're alive!"

  He coughed. "It's over?"

  I nodded. "It's over. I've captured Hopkins and Marla is out like a light."

  "Good," he said weakly. "Julie? Um, in my near death moment, I heard what you said about my letter. This might sound lame, but I left it out for you to see because I wanted you to know how I felt about you in case…"

  I put two fingers on his lips. "Shhh. You don't have to apologize to me, Marcus. It was a beautiful thing to do."

  He nodded slowly and he gave me a relieved looking smile. "Hey, I was wondering if maybe this Friday night we could…"

  
"Yes,"
I said quietly, as I leaned over and pressed my lips against his. He reached up and placed his hands against my cheeks and gently kissed me back with a tenderness and purity that sent waves of peace and contentment through my entire body.

  "Ahem," Betty grumbled. "The girl is alive and we should take her home before the authorities get here and wonder why this stadium looks like ground zero of an earthquake."

  I helped Marcus to his feet and he placed his hands on my waist. "Guess I can stop writing letters to you, huh?"

  I gazed into his eyes and kissed him again. "Never stop writing about how you feel, Marcus. It was the most beautiful and touching thing anyone has ever done for me."

  Marla slowly got up on her knees and glared at me.

  
"You!"
she shrieked.

  I snorted and stomped over to her. My Shadowcull's band tingled against my wrist and I raised my magic just in case she had another trick up her sleeve.

  "You were supposed to be my
friend,
Marla," I snarled. "I don't know what kind of temporary insanity drove you to summon the spirit of Matthew Hopkins!"

  She started to giggle. She clutched her abdomen as her giggles turned into a fit of maniacal laughter.

  "Oh yeah, she's lost it, Julie," Marcus said, as he walked up behind me. "Right off the deep end."

  "It's not fair!" Marla raged. She scraped at the battered turf with her fingernails, throwing clumps of sod into the air. "You're a nothing – a
nobody!
Yet he loves you and you don't realize it until he nearly dies! He deserves better than you! He's always deserved better!"

  Marcus knelt down in front of Marla and lifted her chin so that she could look into his eyes.

  "In the real world, Marla, you don't get to decide who falls in love with you," he said coldly. "I've been friends with Julie for most of my life and she's
always
been there for me."

  "She's a witch!" Marla screamed. "And you're probably enthralled by one of her spells!"

  "I'm a
Shadowcull,"
I growled. "And you have no business screwing around with magic. You're also damned lucky the covens didn't catch wind of what you did over the last few days."

  Betty the dog nudged Marla's face with her slimy cold dog nose. "Be
silent,
girl!" she barked.

  Marla slumped over and did a face plant in the grass as I reached over and scratched the crown of Betty's head.

  "Nice one," I said with a thin smile on my face. "Is she going to be okay?"

  "If her mind hasn't been torn to shreds by now, she should make a full recovery," Betty rumbled. "I've put her to sleep. She will be out for days. With any luck, she'll have learned her lesson."

  "I hope you're right, Betty," I said grimly. "But my gut says we haven't heard the last from Marla. Come on, let's get her home."

 
 

 
 
 

We deposited Marla Lavik on her front step and quickly drove away. I sent Marcus home, too. He was probably up to his ears in trouble with his parents and I didn't want to add one minute more of stress to his, no doubt, permanently traumatized life. He protested, of course, but I was insistent: I had to face Holly Penske alone and because she was an immortal she could choose to do pretty much anything she pleased with either of us if we ticked her off. Marcus had nearly been killed saving my life and I absolutely refused to put him in danger ever again. He eventually agreed it was for the best and we made plans to go to a movie on Friday night, assuming he wasn't grounded until he finished college.

  I also convinced Betty to stay home until she heard from me. This was less challenging than my debate with Marcus since Betty loathed Holly with every ounce of her being. I threw the vessel containing Matthew Hopkins' essence in my backpack and walked over to the C-Train station. I didn't want to be in anyone's debt ever again. I'd captured the spirit of Matthew Hopkins so I'd kept up my end of the bargain.

  As the train left the station, I considered her motives. Holly Penske, the one person in supernatural circles that nobody should ever be indebted to, set me up beautifully. If I wasn't so angry about it, I might have offered some measure of grudging admiration at her seemingly perfect logic. She knew I'd want to confront the poltergeist at Mrs Gilbert's. She staged the attack in my shed and the one at school, not to mention stealing my mom's soul. She put the video on YouTube and fabricated the persona of Hudibras, offering out clues like bread crumbs that would lead me to a confrontation with Matthew Hopkins.

  When Marla summoned the old spirit in the washroom at school, Holly made her move. She took Mom's soul knowing full well that I'd do anything to get it back. It was a plan so convincing that Holly was certain I'd seek her counsel so that she could refer me to the one person who held the key to helping me take down what I thought was a practitioner named Hudibras: my father's ghost. It was only when I witnessed Hopkins' clear confusion after I accused him of stealing my mother's soul that I fully realized how easy it was for Holly to play me.

  Being someone's pawn sucks ass.

  The morning sun was sitting high in the sky and Bankers Hall cast long shadows over the streets of downtown Calgary. I had business to attend to, so I stomped up the marble corridor leading to the two rows of elevators and Star Corp Petroleum. My face was dirty, my hair a rat's nest, and my clothes were covered with grass stains, but it didn't matter. Holly had Mom's soul and her time was just about up. As I padded across the foyer and up to the snotty receptionist from you-know-where, it was everything I could do to stop myself from hexing her stupid computer. I was in a sour mood and the last thing I needed was another game of "let's screw over the teenager".

  Imagine my surprise when she immediately stood up and smiled at me.

  "Good morning, Ms Richardson," she said pleasantly. "Ms Penske was expecting you and wanted to tell you to head down to her office."

  I cocked a wary eyebrow and grunted out something resembling a thank you, as I trudged down the gleaming granite corridor until I got to Holly's office door. I didn't need to knock, either. The door swung open and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled my nostrils.

  "Ms Richardson," she said in a super-friendly voice that made me want to punch her in the nose. "I see you're still alive so that must mean you have something I want very much in that bag of yours."

  I tossed it onto her desk and took a seat in one of her huge leather office chairs.

  I gave her a menacing glare. "My mother's soul; I want it back."

  "Just as soon as we complete our transaction," she said, still smiling from ear to ear.

  "It's done. Hopkins is inside my backpack in a copper box covered with sigils you'll probably recognize. I hope you realize I don't like being played for a fool."

  Holly unzipped the backpack and pulled out the vessel. "There you are," she cooed as if she'd just found her lost cat. "It took me more than four hundred years to claim you, but your debt is paid and now you're mine."

  I blinked hard. "Excuse me? What debt are you talking about?"

  She pulled open a large bureau drawer and carefully deposited the box inside. "Why, Matthew Hopkins' debt to me, of course. He wanted to be famous so who do you think put the notion of becoming a Witchfinder in his head? They didn't exactly
elect
people in those days, young lady."

  "So the poltergeist at Mrs Gilbert's house, the shed and the upturned lockers at my school – that was you, wasn't it? You're Hudibras."

  "Indeed, I created the persona of Hudibras along with the video which I knew full well that you'd find," she said, her smile never wavering. "After I'd pulled Stearne into the mortal realm to attract your attention, I detected a series of summoning spells that were being used by an amateur practitioner. I probed the girl's mind to determine how I could manipulate her, and it didn't take much effort to learn that Marla Lavik was very much in love with your friend Mar cus. It was the easiest thing in the world to make you her enemy because the girl knew that Marcus loves only you. I simply planted the seed in her mind that if she wanted Marcus for her own then she must destroy you. I convinced her that only the spirit of the Witchfinder General possessed enough hatred towards witches to make her magic powerful enough to kill. When the young lady was finally successful at summoning Hopkins in the washroom at your school, it seemed an opportune moment to manifest what
appeared
to be a poltergeist. I knew you would call your mother for assistance and that gave me the chance to acquire her soul. Only by harnessing the power of Endless Night could I ensure that you would eventually come to me."

  I didn't give Holly a chance to say another word. Without thinking, I lunged across the desk with the sole aim of ripping her eyes out of their sockets, and Holly swept me aside with a wave of her index finger. I landed on the floor with a hard thud.

  "Please, Julie, so immature," she clucked. "Surely you know that I am neutral on all things so kindly don't view me with scorn for simply carrying out my function."

  "Your function?" I barked. "What gives you the right to meddle with people's lives, Holly? You were screwing me over the entire time! You kidnapped my mother's soul! My best friend nearly died!"

  "Oh, don't be so morbid," she yawned. "I would have given it back. Your mother was in no danger."

  "Her organs are shutting down and she had a seizure!" I barked again. "I knew nothing about your four hundred year-old arrangement with Matthew Hopkins and you made me become indebted to you so that you could possess his spirit! You used me!"

  Her eyes narrowed and I thought for a moment she might lose her patience with me. "I did no such thing," she said in a cool voice. "If anything I've given you a great gift and you're no longer indebted to me – you gave me what I wanted and I gave you what you wanted."

  "The only thing I wanted, Holly, was my mother to live. She would have never been at death's door if you hadn't orchestrated the events of the past two days. Why didn't you simply go after Matthew Hopkins yourself? If you have the power to pull the spirit of John Stearne back into the world of the living, clearly you can deal with a four hundred year-old ghost!"

  Holly shrugged and said, "That, Shadowcull, is what mortals are for. But look at what you've gained! The events of the past two days have reunited you with your father. You've learned about your bloodline. Why, my actions have even drawn you closer, no doubt, to the boy you love, though you appear to have some competition in that regard. You see? No harm done."

  I snorted. "Yeah. You just manipulated her jealousy."

  She leaned back in her chair and tapped her index fingers together. "Oh, come now, Julie. It makes sense that in the flurry of activity you missed the fact that the young lady who summoned Hopkins did it for the sake of love. Really, I just don't understand why mortal females do these kinds of things to each other, but yes, I merely prodded her in a certain direction. I couldn't have taken advantage if the emotional motivation hadn't already been there."

  "Seems like a hell of a way to eliminate the competition," I grumbled.

  "In matters of the human heart you mortals have a terrible habit of stepping over the line that separates what you call good and evil," she continued. "This was
never
about your mother and I simply made good use of the girl's resentment toward you to achieve my goal. I'd keep an eye on that Marla girl – jealousy is a powerful ingredient that can fuel the blackest of magic. Well, that and of course something as small as one of your fingernail clippings or a strand of your hair."

  I staggered for a moment as my mind flashed back to my encounter with Marla just before the attack at school. She'd taken a hair off my blouse; how could I have been so stupid not to have seen it coming? She used a part of me to not only summon Hopkins but to make her magic work. She'd planned the whole stinking thing and Holly just manipulated the circumstances to get her own desired result.