Reckless Revenge: Book Four (Spellbound 4) (11 page)

Ariana and I parked the Jeep at Craven Manor and hopped out. The scent of rotting leaves hit my nose and the lingering mist touched the strands of hair hanging over one eye.

Brittany’s BMW zipped along the driveway and came to a screeching stop near the Jeep. She jumped out and hit the car remote, her car responding with a
beep
. S

She joined us on the porch and I rang the doorbell, which was answered by Mrs. Baylock. Brittany stalked past her inside the mansion.

Kayla was reading a paperback in an armchair by the French doors in the library when we entered.

Ariana ambled toward zombie girl. “Hello there, Graveyard Betty!”

I covered my mouth and tried not to laugh. Brittany snorted and Kayla shambled over to us.

A fire roared in the hearth and brightened the room. The three of them stood by the fireplace chatting. It would’ve appeared natural, if Kayla wasn’t, well, dead. Of course, she wasn’t your clichéd zombie, which was more like a brainless cannibal. No, she was functional like Evans said, but she certainly looked the part with her blue veiny skin and rotting flesh.

Could zombies shower? Use deodorant? I made a mental note to ask Evans.

Kayla slobbered, her head tilted. “Uh,
hangrah
.”

Ariana, Brittany, and I took a step back. We had one thing in common: we liked our brains.

“You can eat later, Kayla,” Evans said, walking into the room carrying a modest armload of books, then mumbled under his breath, “after I scour up more dog brains.” He set the stack on the desk. His gaze found mine and he jerked his head at the door. “May I speak to you in the hall, Shiloh?”

In the corridor, Evans wheeled to face me. “Why did you bring Brittany back here? There could be dire consequences.”

I lifted my hands in a “don’t blame me” gesture. “Yeah, well, you say that about crossing against the light. Besides, Brittany already knows about the zombie stuff, so stop giving me that
look
. And we can always use more help kicking evil’s butt…except, well, I’m still undecided about Kayla. Hard to trust anything that dies and then, ya know, comes
back
.”

He glanced through the doorway at the girls, his expression pensive. “We’re dealing with otherworldly forces, and getting them involved will only endanger their lives.”

I propped my hands on the hips of my jeans. “They’re already in danger! There’s a psycho lycan munching on people and a necromancer on the loose, remember?”

He removed his glasses and cleaned them with the handkerchief tucked in his pocket. I’d laugh at the nervous habit if I weren’t so annoyed with him. He slid his glasses back on. “I suppose you’re right. Does Brittany know you’re a witch?”

“There’ve been rumors about my family being witches for generations.” I tilted my head, and stared at my mentor. I didn’t mention that I’d planned to do a spell for her the night we found Kayla. “So, yeah, she probably already knows.”

“Fine.” He threw up his hands in defeat. “Then it’s time for another research session.”

Borrring.
I much preferred kicking paranormal ass.

“Yay.” I waved my hands in the air with fake enthusiasm.

He shook his head at me as usual, and we went back into the room. I dropped onto the sofa beside Ariana.

Evans took in the concerned faces staring at him and frowned. “What’s the matter now?”

We took turns explaining what had been happening at school with the Giants and their bullying, while Kayla went back upstairs to rest in her room.

Evans jerked back and rubbed his temple. “Good Lord. For how long?”

“Since school started. At first, it was just a few fights. Normal guy stuff. But it’s definitely getting worse,” Ariana said.

“Do all the boys at school have a strong compulsion to fight?” Evans asked.

“No. Only the football players. Although, after getting my butt pinched, I wanted to kick some ass myself,” I said.

Evans’s mouth actually fell open.

“I guess it’s not some strange coincidence that the kids being bitten by the lycans are all on the Giants football team,” Ariana said.

Evans lifted his brows. “No, but the real question is
why
are the boys being targeted?”

I chewed my lip. Maybe the alpha lycan was building an army of hybrids. Or…what? But I didn’t have an answer, so I kept my big mouth shut for a change.

“Who knows? The football players have always been hostile and loud-mouthed, if you ask me,” Brittany said.

“Could it be steroids?” Ariana asked, voicing the rumored opinion.

Evans shook his head. “I rather doubt it. Too many of them seem affected.”

“But Daniel wasn’t aggressive before. He’s usually a big teddy bear. Did you guys see that shiner he had?” Ariana said. “When I saw him during sixth period, he was trying to make it a matched set.”

“Have you noticed if the increasing hostility has affected the teachers or the other adults?” Evans asked.

“Nope. Only the jocks on the varsity team,” Brittany said.

Ariana nodded. “Yeah. They’ve become major bullies.”

Evans nodded. “I’m afraid if we don’t find the source and stop it, there could be worse repercussions than a few black eyes, school bullying, and pugnacious behavior from this testosterone induced idiocy.”

“Definitely ’roid rage.” Brittany nodded. “Those boys are reckless idiots. Steroids isn’t something you should play around with.”

“What if it’s not steroids? What if they’re possessed by something? Like a demon?” Ari asked, then frowned. “Shiloh said Trent’s acting broody and aggressive, too.”

Understatement. My boyfriend’s eyes turned demony black and he had inhuman strength.

I threw Ari a “shut the hell up” glare, and said, “He always looks scowly. No, something else is going on with him. And we can discuss that
later
.” I put strong emphasis on the last word. “Right now, let’s just focus on what’s going on with the football players.”

Evans nodded. “Possession seems highly improbable, Ariana. One, the sheer number of those concerned. Two, the hostility is only affecting the varsity football team. And three—”

“Do male testosterone levels increase after being in a coma?” I asked.

Evans shook his head. “Not that I’ve ever heard of…”

Ariana twisted one of her springy curls around her finger. “Maybe the coach is pushing illegal steroid use on them. Or someone else on the team.”

I didn’t agree. Not after hearing Daniel’s legend about the Wardens. My guess? The boys were being recruited by the lycans, like Daniel suggested. Carter might be a lycan, so he was high on my list of suspects, even though I didn’t have any actual proof that he was involved. Or it might be the coach…

“Carter
has
to be the mastermind,” I said, thinking aloud. “But why are the players being singled out and for what purpose? And why pump them full of steroids after they have been bitten?”

Unless...that steroid rumor was just a cover story to hide the truth.

Trent sauntered into the room and sat beside me on the sofa. His thigh brushed mine and my body tingled.

“Welcome, Trent. Glad you’re here,” Evans said.

I cleared my throat to get everyone’s attention. “Now would be a good time for everybody to make a choice. You don’t have to get mixed up in all this paranormal craziness if you don’t want. You can leave.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat. “But if you decide to stay, well, I’m not gonna lie to you…it’ll be dangerous.”

The room quieted. Nobody responded. Only stared while each person digested my words.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” Brittany finally said. “We’re here, aren’t we? We’ll stay and help you stop these man-eating-monsters for our families’ sake. I personally want to stop the lycans from hurting more people, but it’s not like we’re becoming besties.”

I stared at Brittany. She was ready to help eliminate the lycans after what they had done to her best friend. Kind of noble for someone as bitchy as Brittany, who was usually all about herself and only what disrupted her plastic world.

“A gang of clueless teens against evil!” Trent mocked and pumped a fist in the air. “Go team!”

Brittany crossed her legs. “Is this group gonna have a name?”

“How about
The
Slayers of All Things Evil
?” Ariana suggested.

“That name sucks,” Brittany replied.

“I was thinking,
Coven of Pretentious Teenagers
.” Evans let loose a throaty chuckle.

“Ha ha. You’re so
not
funny, Evans.” Ariana scratched her nose. “Ah-ha! We should call ourselves the
Paranormal Prodigies!
”

“Yeahhh, I like that. It fits,” I said. “I like it.”

It felt good to have allies. Together we might be strong enough to conquer the formidable evils dwelling within Fallen Oaks.

Ariana clapped her hands together. “If evil’s afoot, we’d better figure out what we’re up against. Time for research. Now let’s hit those big, moldy old books!”

Evans went to the bookcases and grabbed volumes off the shelves. With his arms full, he walked back to the desk and deposited the books. He handed out heavy tomes to each person while I settled behind the desk to search the Internet on his laptop.

Two long hours passed. Mrs. Baylock made us sandwiches and put more logs on the fire. Everyone continued to read while they ate despite Evans warnings about the carelessness of sticky fingers and ancient books. Occasionally, someone would read aloud from their book or share something they thought might help.

Kayla shambled back into the room and announced, “
Hangrah
,”

I glanced at the clock: nine p.m. “Kayla’s hungry.”

Evans removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes. “We’ll need a fresh supply of brains from the local animal hospital,” Evans said. “Brittany, Shiloh, you two can get Kayla dinner. In most veterinary clinics, dead animals are placed in cold storage. You’ll need to sneak in and search for a large freezer.”

My stomach rolled. “And can I just say—
ewww!
”

Brittany flicked long hair over her shoulder. “Are you for real?”

“Yes,” Evans said. “Unless you know of a better way to find sustenance for your friend.” Brittany just stared at him. “That’s what I thought.” He barked orders at the rest of them. “Kayla, since you’re still healing from your injuries, you should go to your room and rest until they return.” He glanced at his nephew. “Trent, take Ariana home—”

“Um, no thanks,” Ariana interrupted, darting a glance from me to Evans. “I can just walk.”

“What?” Evans exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous. You live miles from here.”

“I’ll drop her off on my way to the clinic,” I said.

“No, no, I’ll take her home,” Evans said, as if finally realizing that Ariana was uncomfortable at the thought of being alone with Trent. “Then I’ll come back here and finish studying. We can convene again in a few days.”

Everyone stood and stretched. Brittany snatched up her Coach purse and trudged from the room. I hugged Ari and waved goodbye to the others. I kissed Trent on the check, and then jogged to match Brittany’s long strides. We stepped outside into a gentle breeze rustling among the pines and hurried over to the Jeep.

Sliding onto the driver’s seat, I sat there a moment. “This is too weird.” I shoved the key into the ignition.

“Yeah, well, get over it.” Brittany buckled her seatbelt. “Start the engine and let’s go get some brains for my best friend to munch on,” she ordered.

If someone had told me a week ago I’d be stealing dead animals with the mayor’s daughter, I would’ve told them they were nuts. But it seemed that adversity created some unexpected alliances.

The night air whisked through my open Jeep window and played with our hair. I pushed flyaway strands from my face and glanced at the girl in the passenger seat. Brittany was biting her nails and staring out the window as we drove toward the only veterinary clinic in town. I downshifted and slowly turned onto the main road.

After several stoplights, I parked the Jeep at the back entrance of the animal hospital, pulled the emergency brake, and shifted it into first.

We hopped out and scanned the parking lot. Dark and quiet. With jerky steps, I moved beside Brittany. We crept around the building to the front.

A single light flickered above the arched entryway. It was a thick steel door with one beveled window in the center. I stepped closer, hoping for some dumb luck. One tug on the metal handle told me that the place was locked tight.

“Crapola,” I said under my breath.

“Now what?” Brittany asked.

Just great. There had to be another way in. All I had to do was find it. And use it to get inside. And find my way in the pitch-black dark and...

“Come with me,” I whispered.

When we moved through the darkness, as silent as ghosts along the side of the building, I breathed easier. At least we were no longer out in the open for the entire world to see and—
gulp
—arrest.

Brittany stepped backward and tripped over a spigot in the ground. Her palm slid along the rough wall as she went down.

“Quiet!” I whispered harshly.

As I was helping her up, she pointed at something. A long triangle window built low in the wall. My heart took an optimistic leap. Basement windows.

I crouched near the bushes that had partially disguised the window. I placed my hand flat against the glass, breaking a dozen azalea branches that scratched at my skin, and tried to push the pane open. Nothing happened. I tried again. Still nothing.

Time for some magickal mojo. I pointed a finger at the window. Electric sparks zoomed from my outstretched hand. I pointed a finger at the glass and recited: “Before my eyes, window—arise!”

The windowsill shook and slid open. Brittany’s mouth dropped open and I shrugged.

“Let’s just get this over with,” she whispered.

“Fine by me.”

I shoved my head inside the cool dankness of a storage room. Then I turned around and went through backward. The metal frame bit into my legs, then my stomach as I shimmied through but I ignored the pain. I dangled for a second before dropping onto a metal table below with a bang that reverberated throughout the room. I waited with sweaty palms for an alarm to blare and alert the police.

“
Shhh!
” Brittany whispered loudly.

Nothing. Whew.

Alone in the darkened room, I rolled my eyes. Like there was anything I could do about the noise now. Still, I held my breath. No way that clamor had gone unnoticed. I paused for a millisecond. I listened for footsteps. Nothing. No clue if security was already in the building searching for us.

But it didn’t matter. We had to do this for Kayla. Find the animal corpses, bag them up, and get the hell out. Without being seen or caught, of course.

The only light came from a neon exit sign above a door that drenched the room in an eerie greenish hue. I fumbled through the room, banged my boot into a chair—with a loud
thud
—and eventually fumbled my way to a desk. My heart was executing an erratic beat that had to be unhealthy. Evidently, I was inept for a life of crime.

Brittany dropped very ungracefully through the window, then proceeded to straighten her wrinkled designer clothes.

As my eyes adjusted to the dimness, I spotted a lamp on the desk and flicked it on. Risky, but we were totally unfamiliar with our surroundings. The room had beige walls and white tile floors. Cold and sterile. The pungent odor of ammonia and disinfectant hung in the air. The uncanny quiet only lent to the paranoid hunch that someone was going to step out of the shadows at any moment and read us our rights.

We eased around an operating table and equipment to a big freezer placed alongside the far wall, and using magick again, I unlocked the heavy steel door. The thermostat on the outside read thirty-six degrees, warm compared with the temperature outside, but it hadn’t occurred to me just how cold that really was until I’d opened the door and a blast of icy air struck us.

Inside animal corpses were stacked like firewood. I turned away. I couldn’t do it.

Brittany rummaged through the drawers until she found a garbage bag and rubber gloves. Without hesitation, she slipped on the gloves and stomped inside the freezer. She shoved five small dog carcasses into two bags and closed them.

Brittany’s chin lifted and her shoulders straightened. “What’s with you? They’re
dead
. And this is food for Kayla. You know, the circle of life and all that shit,” she said sensibly and shut the freezer door.

True, yet I couldn’t touch them. Although, I viewed Brittany in a new light. She was a loyal friend and willing to steal and handle dead things for her best friend. Even though she still seemed uneasy around her brain-munching BFF—I mean, who could really blame her?—she handled the dog corpses without much difficulty. I’d hated Brittany, and now I noted a minor, yet significant, shift in our relationship. Brittany was such a superficial über-bitch that I couldn’t imagine being friends with someone like her. Now, maybe, I could. Not saying we were becoming BFFs, but possibly frenemies.

Besides, I couldn’t be too picky. I needed all the allies I could get.

She thrust the plastic bags out the window. I crouched so she could put a sneaker on my laced hands and pull herself through. Then she reached down, offered me a hand, and helped me out. Maybe we should’ve just used the door.

She stalked ahead, carrying Kayla’s dinner, toward the Jeep. The crunch of twigs stopped me in my tracks. Damn. Was it the Sheriff? We were
so
busted.

Beyond the fence outlining the property and within the trees someone was watching us. Longish hair the color of coal brushed his shoulders, and his features appeared chiseled from marble: narrow nose and defined cheekbones.
Stalker Boy.

I glimpsed the hem of his ankle-length leather jacket flapping in the wind. He ran one pale hand through his windswept hair. His glowing violet stare blazed in the darkness. A cool note of challenge in them again, almost a silent dare. The scent of vanilla mixed with freshly baked cookies floated on the breeze. Before I could move toward him or say a word, he stepped back and blended with the shadows just like one of shades. Super creepy.

On the return drive to Craven Manor, Brittany’s head hung low, her hands tense in her lap. “What’s going to happen to her?”

“Who? Kayla?” I braked at a red light. My fingers tapped on the steering wheel. I kept glancing in the rearview mirror. If we were stopped by the police, I wasn’t sure how we would explain the dead animals in the backseat. “I honestly don’t know.” I checked my mirrors. Quiet and deserted. No sign of cops. “We’ll worry about that later. First we need to discover who performed the zombie mojo.”

“Some satanic cult? A necrophiliac?” Her voice came out rusty, but her stare glittered with hard amusement. “Her mother? Or maybe her cheerleading coach?”

The traffic light turned green and I shifted into first gear. “Could be any of them.”

I parked at Craven Manor and Brittany hopped out to hand the bag to Evans waiting at the backdoor. Then she drove off in her BMW. Once her taillights faded in the fog, Evans marched forward and motioned for me to lower the window.

“What’s up?” I cut the engine.

“Did everything go okay?” When I nodded, he continued, “Splendid. And I’m glad training with Trent is improving your confidence. While I’m honest with the boy, there are certain things Maxwell wants kept from him. Like the fact that he was unknowingly taught how to hunt and fight evil while attending military school. Maxwell sent him there when he was only twelve. His motivation, however, was to teach Trent to protect himself.” Sliding off his glasses, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “And the poor boy’s been running on fumes, frayed nerves, and a weary spirit since Madison died. Training with you has given him direction and a new focus.”

Whatever Trent was going through, I could relate. I was still struggling to contain my own brand of darkness.

I bit my lip. “Have you discovered what’s happening to Trent yet?”

“I have some obscure hypotheses, but nothing I want to share at this point.” He gave me an awkward pat on the shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Gazing out the windows, Fallen Oaks gave the impression of an idyllic community, but something lingered below the surface—something dark and seething you couldn’t see. The town was being overrun by dangerous paranormals.

Time to find out why.