Reckless Revenge: Book Four (Spellbound 4) (13 page)

BOOK: Reckless Revenge: Book Four (Spellbound 4)
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CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

It was a gorgeous, crisp, clear autumn morning. I scanned the school parking lot for Trent, but didn’t see him or his car.

On my way toward the main building, I stopped. A prickling sensation on my neck caused the fine hairs to tingle. Slowly, I turned around, gripping the strap of my heavy backpack.

“Good morning, Shiloh.” It was Stalker Boy, staring at me, not six feet away.

The way he said my name made my knees weaken. Did Stalker Boy have this kind of power over all girls? Was that kind of talent learned or bred? I wasn’t even sure if I liked the guy, but that voice. Amazing.

I couldn’t respond, only gape at him stupidly. He tilted his head, his black hair ruffling slightly in the breeze. He seemed guarded, yet beneath his solemn expression, it seemed as if he was trying hard not to smile.

I fought to calm my erratic heartbeat and closed my eyes for a split second. When I opened them, he was gone. Again. I entered the building, but it was hard not to look back over my shoulder.

School was a convenient place for me to gather as much information as I could about the lycans. And that morning proved helpful. It wasn’t hard to overhear the gossip, especially when everyone at school was discussing the attacks. By now, it was common knowledge that the Giants were the main victims and their outward aggression had become legendary. A fight broke out during a school pep rally before lunch, and some of the football players brawled with a few male students. By third period, Michael Pike had some sort of altercation with a freshmen girl, and he was hauled into Principal Radcliff’s office for bullying a freshman. And after Brittany had told the principal about the incident with Carter, he had been given Saturday detention. But the biggest news buzzing the halls? Ten more football players bitten and in comas.

The Giants had become overly aggressive after being bitten. This wasn’t ’roid rage. Or just plain bullying. This was all lycan.

How could I prove my theory? Or link my number one suspect—Carter Lampard—to the attacks? And how could I prepare to stop the paranormal threats in town when I was failing not only art, but now algebra, too?

I kind of needed to buckle down on my academics. Failing two classes wasn’t going to go over too well with brainiac Trent.

The lunch bell rang at last and I walked into the cafeteria. Passing a table loaded with jocks, I overheard the coach saying something about them needing to win the championship this year. I kept moving and eased onto the bench across from Ariana. I quickly told her about Carter’s jerkiness to Brittany in the locker room. She asked a few questions and agreed with the weirdness.

I opened my sack lunch and removed my soda and sandwich. “I need to retake a test that I failed this week,” I said.

Ariana patted my back. “Poor baby. Hard being a teenage demon hunter?” she teased.

I sniffled. “Yeah. It kind of is…”

Daniel found his way to our table and parked himself beside Ari, his tray loaded with food. “How ya doing, goldilocks?”

“Better now.” Ari flashed him a smile and opened her bag of grapes.

I chewed my ham sandwich and watched the cheerleaders practicing high kicks. Kayla would’ve been so proud.

Daniel propped his elbows on the table and caught my eye. “Hey, did you guys hear about—”

“Scoot over, Ramírez.” Brittany seated herself on the bench. Her tray held a bowl of green salad and a bottle of water.

Heather and Elesha paused by our table, mouths open. “Brittany, whatcha doing?” Heather glared, her red nails sparkling in the diffused sunlight. “Why are you sitting with
them?

“Because I want to,” Brittany snapped.

“Don’t get all bitchy with me. I’m only trying to save you,” Heather said, and then glanced at me. “Seriously,
she’s
not good for your rep.”

Brittany lifted her slim shoulders and haughtily tossed her hair. “I can sit wherever the hell I want—and with whomever the hell I want.”

“But Brittany, you hate her,” Elesha whined, pointing at me.

“No. I don’t. Not anymore.” Brittany raised her chin, then turned her attention back to me. “Now, where were we, Shiloh?”

Huh. I guess Brittany didn’t care about the popularity spell anymore.

Heather’s eyes fell on me, as if I was the culprit. Like I was part of whatever it was she was sizing up. Then she mustered a disgusted expression and finally—wisely—took a step back. I wanted to smack Heather upside the head. Maybe later.

“Perhaps you need to double up on the Ritalin,” Elesha snarked.

Brittany stabbed them with a glare so wicked I imagined laser beams shooting from her eyes to burn them both to a crisp. Brittany was not a person you wanted to mess with. Or piss off. No matter the circumstances.

“Fine. Sit with the lower classes,” Heather snarled.

Elesha and Heather tottered off with frowny expressions and furrowed brows.

“You don’t have to sit with us, Brittany. I don’t want to start some lame clique war,” I said.

Brittany gave a dismissive half-wave of her hand. “I’m done with them.” Then she leaned slightly closer to me and added, “I made you a promise, remember?”

Oh!—
I’d forgotten our bargain. Although, I hadn’t cast the spell, evidently Brittany would still honor our agreement and stop bullying other kids. And I guess that meant not hanging with the evil Trendies, too.

“Now, why is this jock sitting with us?” Brittany inclined her head toward Daniel.

Daniel put a hand on his hip and in a high-pitched mocking tone, imitated Brittany. “ ‘I can sit wherever the hell I want—with whomever the hell I want.’ ”

We all laughed.

Brittany shook her head. “Fine, you can stay. But you didn’t answer my question.”

“I have official business with Shiloh.” Daniel took a bite of his cheeseburger. The meat was uncooked and bloody.
Yuck!

“So do I,” Brittany said. “What’s your problem? Too many steroids? Because you smell all testosterone-y.”

Daniel lifted his arm and flexed his bicep. “I’m pure muscle, baby.”

Brittany rolled her eyes. “Again, what do you want?”

“You go first, kitten.”

Brittany ignored him and met my eyes. “Shiloh, I wanted to, um, thank you for helping with Carter.”

Annoyance flashed in Ari’s blue eyes. “Guy’s a tool.”

“I know, right? If Shiloh hadn’t come to my rescue...” Brittany’s voice died.

“Don’t stress it. It’s kind of my job to help innocents,” I said.

Before Brittany could respond, Trent ambled over with his hot lunch and eased himself down next to me. “Hey, beautiful.”

I elbowed him in the side. “Hey, yourself.”

Trent bumped fists with Daniel. “I watched the team practicing earlier. You guys were on fire.”

Daniel nodded. “My dad has us practicing before and after school to get ready for the state championship. The workouts are fierce.”

Ariana touched my arm. “You’re too quiet. What gives?”

Hard to get my mind off wolves eating my dad, Ari.

“Nothing,” I mumbled.

Daniel got up to grab a carton of milk, and Ariana gave an admiring glance at his butt. She leaned forward and lowered her voice, “I guess hanging with zombies isn’t quite as cool as hanging with vampires, eh?”

I shook my head. Ari had a thing for vamps. Not me.

“Nor is it as cool as dating the hottest guy in school,” Brittany muttered in a bitter tone, glancing from me to Trent.

Daniel returned, and must’ve overheard Brittany’s remark. “What? Thought I was the hottest guy in school,” he joked. “Who can resist my animal magnetism?”

“Definitely not me, sexy-jock-man.” Ari winked at Daniel and he threw an arm around her shoulders. She bumped her elbow with his and giggled. He gave her a flirty smile.

I sat back as my new circle of friends ate and chatted. Trent pushed the soggy spaghetti around his plate. Daniel scarfed his practically raw—
gross
—cheeseburger, and the girls nibbled on grapes. We’d redefined social etiquette by forming a group outside the norm of high school cliques. Perhaps the start of my own little coven.

Trent stabbed a noodle, then set his fork on his plate. “The food here sucks.”

“Welcome to public school,” Ariana said, then fixed her attention on Daniel. “So…are you joining our team?”

“Team?”

“Yeah,” Trent replied. “Shiloh and I found that cave, more like an underground lair, you mentioned near the lake, Dan.” He leaned forward and his tone dropped accusingly. “The one full of lycans.”

Everyone gaped at Daniel.

He dropped what was left of his cheeseburger onto the plate. “I didn’t know they would be there—I swear! I just wanted to help. Stop whoever’s hurting my teammates.”

Trent sat back, but kept his gaze narrowed on Daniel. He didn’t trust him now, either. “I have a sketchy plan for trapping the lycans,” he announced.

Daniel hung his head. “Whatever it is, it’s too dangerous.” The words bounced off the table’s shiny surface. His fingers wrapped tightly around the milk carton, knuckles whitening. His skin paled under his brown coloring, and his jaw was set.

Had something happened to change his mind?

“Since when are you afraid?” I asked. “You were all gung-ho before now, Mr. Demon Hunter.”

“Back off, Shiloh,” Daniel said quietly.

“Anyway,” Trent began and slapped his hand down on Dan’s shoulder, “since we know the location of the lair, we can head over one night after sundown.”

“At night? In the dark?” I jerked at my sleeve. “So
not
happening.”

They stared at me.

Trent frowned. “We need to go into stealth mode. Can’t let the cops see us carrying around shotguns loaded with silver bullets after curfew, so what choice do we have?”

I sighed. Sometimes being a novice demon hunter scared of the dark just plain sucked.

“I suppose you’re right. It’s not like saving the town has regular office hours,” I said.

Brittany popped a grape into her mouth, talking as she chewed. “Does this plan of yours involve any death or dismemberment? Because if it does, count me out.”

Ignoring the remark, Trent said, “I was thinking since this lycan likes football players, we could use Daniel as wolf bait.”

Daniel swore under his breath. He rested his elbows on the table and dropped his head into his hands. His shoulders actually shook under his shirt. “Me?”

Trent glanced at Daniel. “Suck it up. You wanted to help.”

I was still unsure about inviting Daniel into our inner circle. But I’d vowed to protect people, even him. And he seemed sincere about wanting to help, so what choice did I have?

“Um, guys, this seriously isn’t the place to discuss our problems,” I said, glancing around us.

Out of nowhere, a football sailed across the room, flying straight at Ariana’s face. I raised one hand and magick sparks pulsed from my fingertips. The ball lost momentum and plummeted before it hit her. It rolled under the table and Daniel stooped to pick it up.

“Who the hell threw that? Who?” Daniel snarled and jumped to his feet. His gaze traveled throughout the room. A vein throbbed in his forehead. His muscles went rigid, his aura rippling like thunder.

Uh-oh. Maybe he’d
already
been bitten.

The cafeteria went silent. Kids froze and stared. No one answered.

“Daniel, relax,” Ariana said.

I flicked a glance at the dissed Heather and Elesha. They glowered at us. Stares alive with resentment. Daniel breathed, and then sat down heavily. The room returned to life. Movement. Sound.

Trent’s brow puckered. “Dan, there’s no need to get all crazy. Bad enough we have rabid lycans—” His words were cut off as Ariana stepped on his foot and Brittany whacked him on the arm.

“Ow! What did you do that for?” Trent demanded.

“So you’d keep your big mouth shut,” Brittany replied with her usual tact. “Don’t want others to overhear you.”

Seven football players stomped past our group. The jocks locked eyes with Daniel, then circled our table and regarded him with an almost animal intensity, as if some primal connection had been made between them. Carter jerked his chin at Daniel. I tensed and clutched my tiger’s eye so hard my hand ached.

Without a word, Daniel stood to join them. The tension running through the boys was palpable. A few appeared hairier and more muscular, shoulders straining against their shirt seams. They moved as one, like a…
pack
. I guess even the animal kingdom—in this case, high school—had a pecking order.

Daniel and his crew meandered outdoors.

Ariana sighed. “Do you guys want to go to the football game on Friday night?”

My shoulders slightly relaxed until I glimpsed that damn bird through the windows, sitting in a treetop. The raven flew off as the boys passed beneath it.

I patted Ari’s arm. “Sure. It’ll be good recon.”

Maybe I could discover why the football players were being changed into lycans. And maybe they could lead me to who killed my dad.

“I can’t go. I’m going out of town this weekend,” Brittany said. 

Trent shook his head. “Count me out, too. My dad is coming home and wants us to have dinner together.”

“Then it’s just you and me, Ari.” I leaned closer to the group. “Let’s meet at Craven Manor again tonight,” I said, then turned to Ariana. “And if Daniel is coming, then you’d better prepare him before he sees Kayla.”

She nodded. “Good idea.”

My gut was screaming that something about this lycan business had always felt
wrong
. But that wasn’t the only thing bugging me. No, I couldn’t stop thinking about lycans, zombies, and aggressive teenage boys. And what it all meant.

Whatever the hell was going down, it wasn’t good. None of it added up. Only one thing still made sense to me. Avenging my dad.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I drove straight home after school. Opening the front door, I overheard my aunt on the phone in the kitchen. I shut the door quietly and crept along the hall, then peeked through the darkened archway and listened.

Okay, fine, eavesdropped.

Darrah leaned a hip on the counter, cordless phone in one hand, and with the other, she fingered a triquetra-shaped pendant hanging from a silver chain around her throat. Long crystal earrings trembled as she pushed herself away from the counter and paced the floor.

“No, Shiloh doesn’t know. But she’s not stupid. She’ll figure it out, then what’ll we do?”

While she listened to the caller on the other end, she flicked her wrist. Glasses floated upward and settled beneath the plates in the cupboard. The clean dishes from the sink, stacked themselves on the shelves. Magick twisted in circles like smoky tendrils around Darrah’s body. Now that Dad was dead, she used magick in the open. Freely. Unrestrained. She waved her hand at the cabinet doors and they closed.

“Hmm, I agree. But a bigger concern is the
cambion
. Soon he’ll become powerful and dangerous, more so than we first thought.” Darrah’s voice held an edge of hardness to it. “And then there’s the problem of the damn Wardens.”

My stomach panged. Wardens…just like the story Daniel had told Trent and me at the lake. More supernatural threats. Freakin’ great.

Darrah’s expression became as rigid as her voice. She switched the phone to her other ear. “Consult that paranormal investigator, Evans? Are you joking? We can handle this ourselves. Besides, this is your fault—
you’re
the one who betrayed Catarina!” Darrah frowned, quiet for a moment, then asked, “Night of the Solstice at the lake?” She sighed. “Of course, I’ll be there. I must consult the coven…” My aunt’s public face was usually cruel perfection—it more than epitomized calm, cool, collected. But this woman was unsettled, her delicate features harsher, as if she was straining to control herself. “Don’t
ever
threaten me, Maxwell.” Her hand tightened on the phone. Fingers white at the tips. “I don’t have time for this idiocy. I’m late for an eyebrow wax.” She slammed down the phone.

Ah, so the lovers were already quarreling
.
Good.

Darrah snatched the notepad next to the phone. Her fingers were shaking with such force she could hardly hold the pen as she scratched a note obviously meant for me.

I went to my room, dumped my backpack on the floor, and plopped on the bed. Downstairs, the reverberation of the front door opening and closing echoed throughout the quiet house. The empty rooms seemed too hollow and lonely without Dad’s presence. I wanted to immerse myself in a good crying jag, but I had places to go and evil to hunt.

I whipped out the cell phone from my purse and dialed my mom’s home number. It rang and rang, but no answer. I texted Ariana and told her that we needed an emergency meeting, then picked her up on my way to Craven Manor. I needed to talk to Evans.

Ariana wrenched open the Jeep’s door and slid onto the seat. “What’s going on?”

“More supernatural craziness.” I downshifted and pulled away from the curb.

At the mansion, I turned off the ignition, staring for a second at the rambling building looming over the Jeep. Getting out of the vehicle, we walked to the door, and Ariana took a deep breath before knocking.

Her tap was immediately answered by Mrs. Baylock, as if she’d been expecting us. “Please come in,” she said, stepping aside to let us enter.

Ariana and I rushed past the dowdy housekeeper and burst into the library, startling Evans, who was standing at one of the bookshelves.

“I overheard Darrah on the phone today,” I blurted. “The Blood Rose Circle is having a coven meeting at the lake. They might know something about the lycans.” I was like an amateur sleuth trying to unravel an ominous labyrinth of mysteries and dark secrets. “I’m thinking of spying to discover what they’re up to,
and
find out what they know about the attacks.”

Evans closed the book in his hands and gave me a small nod. “Good. That might give us the answers we need. And please be careful.”

“Don’t worry,
stealth
is my middle name!”

He frowned. “Hmmm, now I am worried.”

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t stress. I’ll be fine.”

“Why not take Trent with you?” Ariana suggested, taking a seat on the sofa.

“Nah.” I shook my head. “Sometimes I like to work alone.”

My heart thumped once at the thought of going out at night, in the dark, by my lonesome. But I’d be with a powerful group of witches, including my mom, so I should be safe enough. Time to get over that damn phobia, anyway.

“I have to advise against that, Shiloh,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and drawing himself up to full height. “The lycans are hunting you and you’re still developing your powers. You’ve already been attacked several times—”

“Stop with the lecture. I won’t go alone,” I said. “I’ll take Trent.”

“Good. Um, while we’re on the subject...” Evans paused, lifting a book from the desk, but didn’t open it. His knuckles were white around the gold spine. “Is Darrah still tampering with the Dark Arts?”

I shrugged. “Beats me. My mom said Darrah’s been denounced as their leader. She must be bummed.”

“I bet. She’s lost the backing of her coven,” Ari said. “Her powers will be weakened without the power of the circle.” Evans and I gaped at Ariana. She shrugged. “
I’ve
been studying.”

Evans beamed at my best friend with approval.

An unfamiliar sensation like hot pins pricked at my chest. “I study!” I blurted, and slumped down onto an empty seat with my arms folded.

Evans stared at me in an intense, agitated way, and then cleared his throat. “I’m certain you do, Shiloh. But I’m still disconcerted about the coven’s actual motives. We cannot be sure if the other witches knew what they were getting into when Darrah suggested summoning Esael. She may have known, but I bet not all the members did. They probably only assumed their families would have a run of good luck, climb a few tax brackets, and procure lower mortgage rates.”

“Just the kind of thing the Dark Arts always help with,” I grumbled.

“I meant they might not have known the bargain would include sacrificing the lives of their firstborn children. When Darrah exploited her knowledge of the black arts to gain wealth and influence among the town’s elite, it obviously backfired. Now it’s awakened more sinister evils than they’d anticipated,” Evans said. “We should keep tabs on your aunt Darrah. Make sure the coven doesn’t attempt to summon any more demons.”

“You got it. My mom’s not happy about what they did behind her back,” I said. “Summoning that demon and all.”

Evans scratched his unshaven cheek. “At least it’s over now. Darrah’s a complex woman, clever and vindictive.”

“And she’s also cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs.” I twirled a finger beside my head for emphasis.

He gave my shoulder a squeeze. “Just keep an eye on her.”

I groaned. “
That’s
a full time job.”

Trent sauntered into the room with a causal wave at Ariana. “Hey, guys.” He plopped next to me on the couch, then threaded his fingers through mine. “Everything okay?”.

“Now it is.” I leaned into his shoulder, absorbing his warmth and nearness.

Evans cleared his throat. “Nice of you to join us, Trent.”

“No problemo,” Trent said, lifting his leg in the manly-
esque
one ankle-over-the-opposite-thigh leg cross.

“You’ve been hanging with the varsity players,” Ariana said to Trent, “any inside info?”

“Nope,” he said. “They’re staying pretty tight-lipped about whatever’s going on behind locker room doors.”

“I still think Carter Lampard is the ringleader. He’s big and hairy and mean,” I said

“We need proof, Shiloh,” Evans said. “Some solid evidence linking him to the crimes.”

Ariana focused her blue eyes on me. “More than just your witchy intuition, too, Shi.”

Nice. My so-called witchy intuition had saved my butt more than once.

“Then I’ll get some,” I said, even though there was a twinge inside my chest.

“How?” Trent asked.

Before I could answer, Trent’s father, Maxwell Donovan, walked into the room and everyone fell silent. He approached us and tugged on the waistband of his perfectly tailored trousers. He wore a crisp white shirt and dark-blue suspenders. Maxwell had to be at least six foot two, with the slim build of an athlete. His brown hair was cropped close to his head in a Caesar style, and he had a penetrating blue-gray stare. He stared at the others, then me for a long moment before half-smiling at Trent, which gave me the uncomfortable sensation that he thought I shouldn’t be here. In his house. Sitting beside his son.

“How is everyone this evening?” Maxwell asked.

Everybody muttered fine or okay. And Trent introduced Ari to his father.

Maxwell cleared his throat and nodded. “Evans, when you’re done here, we need to talk.” The iPhone in his hand vibrated, and he glanced at the screen. “Excuse me,” he said gruffly, lifting the phone to his ear. “Hang on,” he said into the receiver. He held the phone to his chest and glanced at Ari. “It was nice to meet you, Ariana,” he said, then marched from the room.

Trent stared at his retreating back for a moment, gritting his teeth. “Ignore my father. He gets grumpy when he’s in business mode.”

Ariana didn’t respond. She was busy texting someone on her cell, her fingers flying over the touch screen. Probably Daniel. I liked him, but I didn’t entirely trust the boy.

I leaned closer to Trent and whispered, “Can you meet me Saturday night for a little recon on the local coven?”

“Sure,” he whispered back.

Evans clasped his hands together. “Everyone ready to study?”

We all groaned, but each of us got comfortable with a stack of books to read through.

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