Spell Struck (12 page)

"Guess I fainted. There goes my street cred."

"Have you been ill?"

"No." I struggled up on my elbows. "I'm fine. I rushed out of the house this morning without eating. Then I did a big workout in Gym…"

"Did you eat lunch?"

"Just a little. Salem and I worked through lunch in the library. You know, no food allowed."

She held a pen like a cigarette in her right hand and pivoted it back and forth. "By 'Salem,' do you mean Sarah Miller?"

"Yes. Sorry."

"No need to apologize, Mr. Cooper. May I call you Aidan?"

"Sure."

"Sarah seemed quite concerned about you."

She likes me. The thought encircled me like a warm hug.

"I need to inform your guardian you fainted." She glanced at a file she had plucked off the cot. "Kali Cooper?"

"Yes, ma'am. My cousin."

"Do you have a number where we might reach her?"

Worry knotted a hangman's noose in my stomach. "The phone company hasn't installed our landline yet."

"Does your cousin have a cell phone or work number?"

The knot in my stomach tightened. "No cell phone. Kali just started a new job. I'm sorry. I can't remember the number."

"Rest a moment. See if the number comes to you. I'll be right back." The layers of her foamy dress swished as she left the room.

Alone, I slowly sat up, gripping the edge of the cot to steady myself. Papo's Rule Number Three — avoid trouble — jackhammered inside my head. If I made a run for it, I wondered how far I'd get. If I stayed put and acted innocent, like everything was legal, maybe no one would call the cops. Before I could decide, Miss Gaya returned, carrying a juice box and a sandwich wrapped in white deli paper.

"I raided my secret stash," she said in conspiratorial whisper. "Hope you like turkey."

"Love it." Salem's food had taken the edge off my hunger, but just barely. I tore open the wrapper and took a bite.

She offered me the juice box. "All I had was apple."

"Thank you so much."

"We have a school lunch program I think you may qualify for. In case you forget your lunch again."

Embarrassment flamed my cheeks. When it came to food, I couldn't afford to be proud. Besides, after Thanksgiving, I'd never see these kids again. "I'll look into it."

She nodded. The buzz of the light grew louder as Miss Gaya fell silent and I devoured the turkey sandwich and polished off the juice. Miss Gaya gathered up the litter and placed it in a push-pedal metal wastebasket. The task complete, she perched on the chair, knees together and her feet flat on the linoleum floor.

"I noticed bruises along your jaw."

"I must have struck the seat in front of me when I blacked out."

"Maybe." Her tight expression denoted disbelief. "Have you had any trouble getting acclimated? Any of the students bothering you?"

"No. Everything is fine."

"How about at home?"

"Everything is great." I realized I was shaking my head instead of nodding and forced myself to stop. "I feel much better. May I go to class?"

Miss Gaya glanced at the wall clock, then tapped her pen against the file. A label with my name spelled out in bold caps had been affixed to the folder. "Let's give it a few more minutes. Lie back down, and I'll check on you in a little bit." She opened a white metal cabinet and pulled out a fuzzy white blanket.

"I hate to miss Art."

"I'll call your teacher." She pinned me with one of those No-Arguments-Young-Man looks my mother used to throw. Obediently I stretched out on the cot and allowed her to drape the blanket over me. The satin edge, smooth and clean-smelling, grazed my chin. Miss Gaya tucked the blanket around me, an act so motherly I covered my eyes with my forearm so she wouldn't see the tears threatening to well. The click of her heels warned of her departure.

Once again, I was alone.

Chapter Sixteen

The Hyde-Smiths' SUV smelled of sweat, dirt, and unruly boys. I figured it must be the primary car for taxiing Parvani's younger brothers, "The Terrors." The twins wrestled in the farthest back seat, pausing only when they saw Aidan climb in next to me.

"Psst. Sarah."

I pushed the seat belt out of my way. "What?"

"Who's the dude?" one of the boys — I could never tell them apart — asked.

The corners of Aidan's mouth curled up in a secretive smile. "My code name is Aidan."

The twins leaned forward. "What do you mean 'code name'?"

Aidan's perfect nose wrinkled. "Sorry. That's on a need-to-know basis. I doubt you boys have clearance."

Tiffany, dwarfed in the driver's seat, lowered her café mocha into one of the half-dozen cup holders and shifted for a better look.

"You are full of it," the twin on the left said.

Aidan raised his wrist to his mouth and spoke into his cuff. "Did you copy, K.G.?"

Tiffany lowered the heat so she could hear better. Good thing, because if the SUV got any warmer, her flip-flops would melt.

"Who are you talking to?" the twin on the right asked.

"I'm afraid that's on a need-to-know basis, too."

"Is he an undercover cop?" one of the boys asked me.

"No," I answered. "I'm pretty sure he's an alien."

"He's looking for troublemakers to beam up to the mother ship," Parvani said in a bored tone. "I told him he could have you."

Both boys shrank back.

"Seat belts, everyone," Tiffany ordered. Seven belts clicked into place.

"Why do you want troublemakers?" Evie asked.

"To sacrifice to the monsters," Parvani said before Aidan could respond.

"Parvani! Don't tell them classified information." I faced forward so the boys wouldn't see my smirk.

Silence fell behind me as Tiffany merged into traffic. I risked a sideways glance at Aidan. Fatigue shadowed his light gray eyes. We had both missed Art while Miss Gaya made a series of phone calls. It seemed, from what little I had been able to overhear, Miss Gaya had been reluctant to release Aidan. Evidently she couldn't get hold of his guardian, Kali.

Eventually it had been decided Aidan could come home with me until Kali got off work. But first Miss Gaya had talked to Dad, who had proceeded to give me a stern lecture about staying out of the bedrooms. He'd then hastily cleared his scheduled and said he would meet us at the house in forty-five minutes. I imagined him flooring it across the Bay Bridge.

"This is us," I said when Tiffany pulled into my driveway about ten minutes later. Staring out the window, I wondered what Aidan thought when he viewed the house. The single story ranch-style house showed wear. The twenty-five-year-old roof kept shedding wooden shingles. Autumn rains had kept the lawn green and the holly bushes flanking the front door fat and prickly, but it had also brought up a few weeds around the mailbox.

"Thanks for the ride," Aidan told Tiffany.

Her glance flicked to the back where the Terrors sat, quiet and wide-eyed. "My pleasure."

"Thanks, Tiff." I jumped out, avoiding a large puddle near the edge of the lawn. A steady drizzle dampened my sleeves and sparkled on Aidan's long, dark hair.

"Call me if you need anything," Evie said, eyeing Aidan. She tended to see potential danger in every situation. Guess I would, too, if my dad had died in Afghanistan.

"Will do." After all, I had known Aidan for just a couple of days. He didn't seem like an axe murderer, but you never knew. I had the odd feeling
Teen Wytche would protect me.

Einstein barked as though the Furies were at the door. When he saw Aidan, the cockapoo gave a final bark and then wagged his tail.

"You didn't warn me you had a ferocious guard dog." Aidan knelt on the black marble floor and petted Einstein's head.

"Einstein is my sister's dog."

"The sister who goes to M.I.T.?"

"Yep. Amy is my only sibling." Hopefully she hadn't been kicked out. I wished someone would keep me in the loop. Mom hadn't texted me, and Dad hadn't mentioned Amy when he'd called me after school. "How about you? Any brothers or sisters?"

"Nope. Just me."

"Evie is an only child, too. It's just her and her mom since Evie's dad died."

A strange look scudded across Aidan's face. "What happened to her dad?"

"Maybe you've heard of him. Dash O'Reilly? He was a photojournalist. He died on assignment in Afghanistan."

"Poor Evie."

"Seriously." I waited, but he didn't say anything about his parents. Even if I hadn't taken a quick glance at his school file, I would have known something had happened to them. Otherwise his cousin wouldn't be his guardian.
Maybe he's not ready. I propped my backpack against the entry wall and said, "
Sad talk makes me hungry. Want a snack?"

"Sure." He deposited his messenger bag next to my backpack.

"This way." Einstein and I led Aidan through the small family room, which is basically an art gallery with a widescreen television and low, cushy chairs. "Mom is a university art librarian," I explained. "She buys art from the most promising students in the Masters program."

Aidan glided his fingers over an abstract bronze sculpture. "Cool."

Einstein's nails clicked against the gleaming white floor tiles as he raced to the pantry door, then he jumped like corn popping in the microwave. "He always gets a treat when I come home," I said. "I'm not above buying love."
Or performing a love spell.

Einstein snapped up his dog biscuit and rushed for my parents' bedroom where he could eat it without worrying about someone snatching it. I shifted my gaze to Aidan. He gaped at the packed shelves of canned goods, cereals, boxes of rice, a brownie mix, baskets of potatoes, onions, garlic, and more. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. For the first time, I noticed how loosely his frayed jacket hung on his wiry frame.

"What's with the food in the box?" he asked.

I glanced down at the open box containing two jars of peanut butter, cans of tuna, and mandarin oranges. "Our synagogue keeps a food pantry for members in need. We make monthly donations."

"Nice."

"Thanks. So, what sounds good? A bowl of cereal? Cookies and fruit? Cheese and crackers?"

"Whatever you feel like. I'm easy." He glanced down at the cans of soup.

I shivered and rubbed my arms. "The drizzle gave me a chill. How about some hot soup?"

Aidan's expression brightened. "Sounds great."

"You pick one. I'll get a pot."

Aidan met me at the stove with a large can of vegetarian chili. "This one okay?"

"Sure." It had more protein than the other soups, and Aidan seemed like he could use a hearty snack — or meal. I pulled a can opener out of the drawer and handed it to him. "You work on the chili. I'll see if we have any cornbread mix."

Within a half-hour, homey baking smells filled the kitchen. Cinnamon-scented vapors rose from two mugs of hot apple cider. Aidan downed his second bowl of chili while I pulled the corn muffins out of the oven. He plucked one hot from the pan and gingerly peeled back its silver foil wrapper. "So," he said out of the blue, "what would you do if someone gave
you an ancient grimoire?
"

"Ouch!" I dropped a steamy muffin and ran to the sink to run cold water over my fingers.

"You okay?" Aidan moved in behind me, so close his energy cascaded down my back, tingling my flesh.

"Yeah. I touched the pan." I concentrated on the cool flow of water and not the love spell fast-tracking through my veins.
Breathe. My heart slowed from turbo to I
-can-handle-this. I shut off the water and reached for a hand towel.

"So what would you do if you had an ancient grimoire?" he pressed.

"If such thing existed?" I forced a derisive laugh and patted my hand dry. "Oh, I don't know. Search for a spell to promote world peace or cure mental illness."

Aidan's smoky stare bored into me, arresting my breath before it could escape my lungs. "I'm not sure there's a spell to cure—"

High-pitched shrieks obliterated the rest of his words. "The smoke alarm!"

Aidan rushed to the stove to make sure it was off. I checked the oven.

"Nothing is on!" Aidan yelled over the painful shrieks and Einstein's frantic barks.

"Holy Goddess!"
Teen Wytche. I sprinted toward the bedrooms
. Einstein zigzagged in front of me, and Aidan jogged behind me.

"I don't see any smoke."

"Just wait." I flung open my bedroom door, and brimstone blasted me in the face. "Open the closet," I commanded. The shrieking hopped up my heartbeat. In a moment I'd be deaf or insane from the hideous noise. "Einstein, move!" The dog scurried away from my desk chair, and I rolled it to the closet. I climbed onto the seat as Aidan held the chair steady.

Black and mauve smoke oozed out of the boot box. Holding my breath, I yanked down the carton and carried it to my altar. Einstein fled into the hall.

"Should I get some water? Are your boots on fire?"

"No, something else. Stand back!" I warned, then kicked off the cover. Aidan stepped in front of me and shielded me with his body.
Teen Wytche chirped. The smoke vanished. The alarm ceased its deafening shrieks
.

As we gaped, the damaged spell book rippled. My ears rang, but I swore the pages made a riffling sound. The half-destroyed cover reverted to plum leather with embossed silver leaves. A low hum swelled against my chest as rings of electric blue light emanated from the grimoire. A thin curl of blue vapors snaked around my waist before encircling Aidan. The light, weedy scent of dried skullcap tickled my nose.

The spell book rippled again. The plum leather cover morphed into woven brown cloth stretched over wood. The silver embossed leaves re-emerged, as if sprung from a tree.

Aidan blinked several times, then sank to his knees and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook. A sound halfway between a sob and a laugh tore from his throat.

Chapter Seventeen

Over the ringing in my ears, I heard Einstein bark and rush toward the kitchen.
Dad. I jerked on Aidan
's arm. "We have to get out of here. My dad's home!"