The Gathering Darkness (20 page)

He looked dissatisfied. “I just wish I could do more.”

“Let’s just see what’s inside of the trunk so we can get out of here
.
”
And maybe back to that kiss.

I shone the flashlight inside the trunk. Marcus reached in and picked something out. He held it out between us. It was a black robe, exactly like the one I’d seen on the people in my nightmare and in the painting.

“There’s something else,” he said. He passed me the robe and pulled out a book.

I let the soft garment fall to my lap and took the small, black, leather-bound book from him. With a light touch, I caressed the double spiral embossed into the center of the cover and the intricate scroll detail etched into the leather surrounding it. Other than a line of runes down the spine, there was no writing. I took a deep breath and looked at Marcus, who was kneeling patiently in front of me, his eyes wide. I slipped a finger under the front cover. The book fell open with a cracking sound to the spine. I stared at the first page without surprise.

“Claire Elizabeth Day,” I said low. “It was Claire’s book.” A strange feeling of déjà vu washed over me. Maybe it was seeing her entire name in writing for the second time. I sat back on my heels and brushed my fingers lightly over the dents in the writing. “The year 1912 is written in the corner.”

“Exactly one hundred years ago,” Marcus said.

I flipped through the silver-edged pages in silence.

“Well, what’s it about?” he asked.

“I’m not sure. A book of spells maybe.”

His eyes narrowed. “How would you know what a book of spells looks like?”

“I don’t know?” I shrugged. “The pages are filled with strange words and symbols. It just looks like a book of magic.”

“So, Claire was a witch, too,” Marcus said with confidence.

I looked at him regarding what he’s just said. “Do you think?”

He shrugged. “Why not? Maggie might be.”

“Maggie is,” I said adamantly. I was absolutely convinced now that Maggie was a witch—an evil witch.

“Okay then, why couldn’t Claire be too? It
is
her book. And she
was
in our dreams, even if only symbolically. And what about the robe?”

“Okay, let’s say she was; what does it have to do with us?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe Claire wanted us to find the book.”

“Maybe.” I closed the cover and fondled it lovingly.

“As I said on the bus, my uncle might know more. Maybe he’ll even know who Claire was. I’ll take you to see him Saturday morning.”

A loud, boisterous voice, edged with sarcasm, interrupted our moment. “Decent or not, here I come.”

We both snapped our heads up. Instinct kicked in. For some reason, I felt the need to hide the book from Evan. I shoved it into the front of my sweats and pulled the bottom of my hoodie down over it, laying my hand protectively across my stomach.

Within seconds Evan was standing behind me. I knelt stiffly.

“Can’t you two stay away from each other long enough to get your work done?” When we didn’t answer he looked at me and said, “Beth’s looking for you.” He let out a sharp laugh. “So, did I interrupt, or are you finished already?”

Marcus stood. From the expression on his face, it looked as though it wouldn’t take much for him to beat the crap out of his brother.

I stood too, and positioned myself in between them.

“Don’t.” I mouthed the word to Marcus.

“What do you want?” Marcus asked bluntly, over my shoulder.

“Like I said, Beth’s looking for Brooke.”

“Okay, thanks.” I swallowed my pride, anything to avoid an argument, or worse, a fight in the attic. “We’ll be down in a minute.”

I felt the intensity of the anger that radiated from both brothers as I stood in the middle. They glared past me at each other, provoking the other to make the first move, until Evan lowered his gaze to the bundle on the floor.

“What’s that?” He gestured toward the robe with his chin. When neither of us answered, he bent and picked it up. For a fleeting moment, his face held the expression of someone deep in thought.

“What is it?” I asked staring at Evan’s puzzled expression.

“Huh? Why are you staring at me?” He let the robe drop over the side of the trunk. “Well, if you two want to stay up here and play, then go ahead. I’m going back to work before I lose my job.” He turned and walked away.

“That was weird,” Marcus said.

“Really! I’m glad I’m not the only one who thought so. Something happened to him when he held the robe. He was in a trance, or something.”

“He’ll never tell us what it was, though. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here. I think I’ve had enough of the attic for one night. Marcus sounded more anxious than I’d ever heard him.

“So, you’ll leave with me?” I was still worried that he would take me back to my ironing room and go back to work.

“Of course. Don’t worry. I’m not leaving you alone in this place.”

“What about your job?” I asked.

“I’ll get another one.”

I tried to smile. “Come on. Let’s put this stuff back.”

I grabbed the robe and threw it into the trunk, not taking the time to fold it.

“Where’s the book?” Marcus asked.

I patted the spot where I’d shoved it in my pants.

“Are you sure you want to take it? What if it’s cursed or something? You don’t want to mess with a witch’s property.”

“Seriously?” I almost laughed. “You don’t believe in witches, remember? And besides, Claire’s dead.”

“How do you know?”

“Because the book’s dated one hundred years ago. She has to be dead now. Anyway, I can’t explain it, but I feel like the book wanted us to find it.” As I said it, I patted Claire’s book again through the velour.

“If you say so,” Marcus conceded, looking skeptical.

He lifted the cover back onto the trunk. Instantly the warmth left us, and our breath clouds returned with the cold. But my body stayed healed.

“I can’t get out of here soon enough,” I said and shivered.

His hand found mine.

We wasted no time in walking back to the light and down the attic stairs. I focused my eyes on our feet as we hurried down the grand staircase and past the lifeless painting, which an hour ago had been very much alive.

I grabbed my windbreaker off the hook by the door with such a force, I heard it tear. Just as Marcus was about to open the front door, Beth came into the foyer.

B
rooke? Where were you, I’ve been looking for you?”

Crap
. I looked at Marcus for help.

“Brooke is sick. I’m taking her home.”

“Brooke?”

I faced Beth. “I’m sorry. I looked for you, but … I’m really sick. I have to go.” I had no other explanation. I just needed to get away from the Inn as fast as possible. I turned to leave.

“Wait,” she blurted in her meek voice.

I swallowed hard and turned back. Beth pulled an envelope from a pocket on her cardigan.

“This is from Maggie.” When I didn’t reach out to take it, Beth said, “It’s your pay from last week.”

She gestured for me to take it so, reluctantly, I did. The truth was, I didn’t want anything from Maggie, not even her money.

With great effort, I turned the corners of my mouth up and said, “Thanks.”

“See you next time. Hope you feel better soon,” she called out after me as I crossed the threshold. Somehow, I knew she was sincere. But unbeknownst to her, I had no intentions of going back to the Inn—ever.

The rain battered us as we ran to the truck. The thunder and lightning hadn’t let up either. As we pulled out of the driveway, I risked a quick glance back at the Inn. Flashes of lightening framed the huge building, emphasizing the raven statues, making the whole scene look as frighteningly creepy as it always had in my dreams when I was little.

Suddenly, I felt scared for Evan. “Maybe we should make Evan leave too,” I said, staring out the window at the Inn.

“And how do you suppose we do that?”

“I don’t know, but he’s in that creepy place all alone.”

Marcus chuckled darkly. “It’s nice of you to worry about him, but I don’t think there’s anything we could say that will make him leave just because we want him to.”

“Yeah, I guess so. But still.”

The truck lurched forward before coming to a stop halfway out of the gate. “Do you want to go back?” Marcus asked, a little too harshly.

I shrugged. “No.”

Marcus shifted gears with more force than necessary. “My brother can take care of himself.”

“Okay, you made your point.”

We rounded the corner, leaving the Inn behind us.

“Unless … .” Marcus hesitated.

“Unless what?”

“Unless you’re unsure.”

I looked at him questioningly. “Unsure?”

He stared straight ahead.

“I’m not unsure about anything.”

He didn’t acknowledge that I’d said anything, so I faced the front and with a sick ache in my chest, I pondered over our recent conversation.

Our little tiff was followed by a period of awkward silence. I glanced sideways at Marcus. He was leaning against the door of the truck, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the stick shift, staring straight ahead. Why had he gotten so gloomy when I mentioned Evan? We never even got to have that kiss, and now I didn’t think we ever would.

Three minutes after leaving the Inn’s driveway, we were at Aunt Rachel’s. After everything that’d just happened to us, I couldn’t let the night end this way. I had to do something—I wanted that kiss.

“Um … .” I started to speak, but he continued to stare straight ahead. I sighed and gave up. “Thanks for bringing me home.” I spoke fast, jumped out of the truck and ran through the downpour to the front porch, not taking the time to put my hood up.

“Brooke, wait!”

There was an edge of panic to Marcus’ voice. My heart constricted. I turned on the bottom step and waited for him. Rain poured down my face—a perfect camouflage for the tears that spilled uncontrollably from my eyes.

When he reached me, he grabbed my arm, pulling me up the stairs and out of the rain. I tightened my jaw and swallowed, promising myself that I wouldn’t cry now that I was under the protection of the porch roof. I forced myself to look at Marcus’ adorable face. My throat ached and my eyes burned. My heart didn’t know whether to melt or break.

The pain in his eyes showed his regret for his recent behavior. His face softened. He even smiled. “I’m a jerk. I don’t know why I acted like that.” He looked thoughtful. “I guess I was jealous.” He let out a sharp huff. “I’ve never been jealous of Evan before.”

He took a step backwards, leaning against the railing, and instinctively, I took a step towards him. “You don’t have to be jealous of Evan. I was just scared for his life, that’s all.” As I said it, I realized how ridiculous it sounded. “That’s what the Inn does to me.”

“You know, when you cry, your eyes turn green.”

I looked out onto the street. “I’m not crying,” I said as I blinked back stubborn tears.

The rain bounced off the pavement like tiny ping-pong balls. There was no escaping the dampness. The scent of wet earth was everywhere. As I stared into the rain, I felt Marcus’ fingers brush away the strands of wet hair that clung to my dampened face, sending tingles across my skin. The microscopic fissure in my heart sealed shut, and the sickness in my chest was replaced with a feeling much greater than a schoolgirl crush. My heart swelled.

I turned my face toward him again, but stared down at the one side of his shirt collar that was flipped outside of his jacket. I had the urge to reach up and tuck it in for him, but a bout of shyness had my hands pinned to my sides. After a deep breath, I said what I’d been too shy to say until now.

“I made my choice.” My gaze lifted from the collar to his face. “I chose you.”

I’d never felt more vulnerable as I stood staring into his eyes. I’d opened up my heart and made the first serious move. Now it was his turn. He reached up and raked a hand through his soaked hair, leaving it adorably messy, reminding me of how flat my hair must be from all the rain.

“Are you sure I’m the right choice?” he asked, gazing at me warmly.

Mentally, I shook my head. “Who are you comparing yourself to? Evan isn’t even in the equation. He never was. It’s always been you.”

Without thinking about it, I brought a hand up and let it rest on the front of his jacket, toying with the zipper. My gaze fell to the hollow of his neck. “I liked you from the first moment I saw you get out of the Civic. I hardly even noticed Evan that day. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met before.” As I poured out my heart, the pendant grew warmer.

He swallowed. Then he said softly, “That first day of school, I wished ever since that I had been the one who came over to you.” I glanced up to see a hint of a smile play at the corners of his mouth. “I imagined so many times having a conversation with you that day.”

I smiled. “What would you have said?”

He brought one hand up slowly and brushed it across my forehead, letting his fingers rest where the scratch had been. He slid the other around my waist, pulling me closer. I stepped into his arms freely.