The Girl and the Gargoyle: Book Two of The Girl and the Raven Series (20 page)

“Who’s the gift from?” Ella asks.

The table falls silent. This is exactly why
I
never brought it up. I’m not ready for the world to know about Jude. It’s bad enough he showed up at my uncles’ apartment. Now they’re vulnerable. He can get to them anytime.

Jude was my secret and not Katie’s to tell. Did she also tell them about Dylan and me? That Marcus and I had a huge fight?

“Ouch!” Katie says as I kick her under the table.

The girls glance at Katie for only a second, then return their attention to me.

“It’s a long story.” I squirm.

“We’ve got the whole lunch hour.” Ella smiles sweetly.

I raise my gaze from the table and focus on Suzie and Cloe. They truly are my friends. They won’t judge. “It’s a gift from my father,” I say.

“I knew it.” Ella smacks the table with the flat of her hand.

I bounce on my seat, surprised. “Knew what?”

“That the whole poor southern hillbilly thing was a lie. A ploy to gain sympathy,” Ella scoffs. “It worked on Marcus and Dylan, so I guess you pulled it off.”

Anger boils inside of me. I refuse to give her the satisfaction of getting under my skin. I just roll my eyes. “Whatever.”

“Speaking of Dylan,” Suzie says as her gaze skims the lunchroom. “Did any of you see him today?”

I’ve been doing my best to
not
see Dylan.

Ella and Caroline look at each other, then shake their heads.

“No, why?” Caroline says.

“Don’t tell me he’s back with Rachel the skank or I’m going to puke,” Ella says.

Suzie’s eyes are as big as saucers, her voice barely loud enough for us to hear. We all lean in close. “Someone did a number on him. Beat his face to a pulp. Bruises, stitches. It’s horrible.”

A shiver races down my spine.
Please God, tell me Marcus didn’t do this to him
. My boyfriend—a protector—would never do something so awful.

I jump up from the table. “I’m sorry. I think I’m going to be sick.”

My legs barely move fast enough. I make it to the girl’s bathroom and heave my entire lunch in the toilet.

With shaking fingers, I pull my phone from my purse. I call Dylan’s number, but go directly to voicemail. His phone must be off. Or he diverted my call. I take a deep breath, then dial Marcus. His phone rings five times, then goes to voicemail.

“Hey, it’s me. Just checking in. Some of the kids here at school are talking about Dylan. He’s been beat up and it’s bad.” I take another breath. “Please tell me you didn’t do this. It was only a kiss, Marcus. And I promise to spend the rest of my life making it up to you. But please tell me you aren’t the one who did this to him.”

I wait a beat, then replay my message back to me. When the robotic voice asks me if I want to send the message or delete it, I hit delete. I record a new message, telling him about Dylan.

Marcus is a protector. He would never do something like this to Dylan. The question is…who did?

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“Lucy Walker, as your teacher, I have to tell you that you’re getting a big fat ‘F’.”

I duck to avoid Persephone’s glare and slip around her into the apartment. Sheldon and Bernard aren’t home yet, and I couldn’t stand being home alone, not with the howling wind and the rain pelting the windows. Besides, Marcus hasn’t called me back, and Dylan’s still dodging my calls.

“Hi, Persephone. I need to talk to you—”

Thunder claps so loudly the walls rumble and the lights dim. I slap my hands over my mouth to muffle my shriek. We stand still as mannequins, both of us mid-gesture, until the lights flicker back to normal. I
hate
thunderstorms.

“Enough already.” Persephone waggles her finger mid air.

“Who’re you talking to?” I glance furtively at the window as shadowy branches rat-tat-tat against the glass.

“The goddesses,” she grumbles.

“They’re mad we’re helping Jude, aren’t they?”

“Either that or Seamus is tinkering with the elements again.”

The night the violent winds blew me from the roof. I shudder. That was Seamus’s doing. “You think he’s back? Or could it be Jude? He was furious when I bailed on training the other day. Just when I thought Marcus was safely off his radar.”

Persephone glares out the front window. It’s like she’s daring whatever force is at work to bring it on.

As if in response, a new wave of splattering raindrops begin their suicidal descent from the clouds, driving in sheets against the windows. My teeth start to chatter and I wrap my arms around myself. “Maybe we should go to the basement?”

“Why didn’t you come to me about this emanation?” Persephone asks, waving off my concern. “Why did I have to hear about it from Aiden?”

My face flushes. “Of course Aiden’s blabbing about it. I’m sure he loves spreading the word…anything to humiliate me.”

“Honey, for your information, he was asking for my help. It seems Marcus is determined to keep you from going back to Jude’s house. A bad idea as you and I—and Aiden—know all too well.”

I nod solemnly. Okay, so just this once Aiden doesn’t have it out for me. He’s looking out for his pseudo-brother. “That’s what I keep telling Marcus.”

“Marcus is stubborn. It would be better to cast a spell over you and Dylan to eliminate any attraction between the two of you.”

“I’m not attracted to Dylan.” My glare disappears as thunder assaults my ears like a cannon. I swallow a whimper and pray the roof doesn’t cave in.

“Of course, dear. Now come on over here,” she says lightly as I follow her into the living room.

Did she just roll her eyes?

“You don’t understand. My relationship with Marcus was almost ruined. It still might be.”

Persephone nods sympathetically and pats my shoulder. “We’re going to fix this, okay? Arrange for Dylan to meet you here Saturday night.”

“I don’t know if I can,” I whisper.

“Spill the beans, kiddo. I’m guessing it’s not just the storm that’s got you all skittish.”

I shake my head and take a deep breath. “Something bad has happened, and Marcus may be responsible. And it’s all my fault.”

“Near as I can tell, just about everything is fixable. Why don’t you tell me about it.”

So I tell her, and with every word, I fear I will launch dinner all over her coffee table.

When I’m done, Persephone studies me. “That doesn’t sound like Marcus.”

“I didn’t think so, either, but who else has a grudge against Dylan? And the timing…just a coincidence?”

“Have you talked to Marcus about this?”

“We’ve been trading voicemails and texts. Marcus has been spending time with Selima.”

Persephone purses her lips and stares off. “As you said, who has a grudge against Dylan? You would know this better than me.”

“Dylan’s popular. He has more friends than anyone I know. Guys either respect him or worship him. They want to be him. Girls, well, Dylan’s got a lot of fans.”

“Has he gotten in any other fights this year?”

“Nothing at school. Outside of school? Wait!” Why didn’t I think of this before? I’m such a dork. “Jack, Matt, and Troy. The bullies from school. Jude’s shapeshifter lackies. Dylan beat the crap out of them in our training session two weeks ago.”

I’m filled with relief. Of course, Marcus wouldn’t do something so horrible. What was I thinking? I smack my forehead with the palm of my hand.

“You’ll get Dylan here Saturday night?” Persephone asks.

“I’ll get him here.” I try to sound more confident than I feel. After my last message to Dylan, I’m pretty sure he wants nothing to do with me. Besides, how am I going to explain emanation to him?

The wind gusts, rattling the windows like a haunted house. I wish Marcus were here. With his arms around me, I’m not afraid of storms. Or anything else. I have some major making up to do.

“Earth to Lucy.”

I shake my head and give Persephone my full attention.

“Did you distribute the satchels around your apartment? Have you been burning the incense we made?”

I nod.

“Good. Then let’s pull out the Book of Shadows and look for spells to break whatever’s going on between you and Dylan.” Persephone sits down on the couch, and after a moment of stunned silence, I plop down next to her.

“The Book of Shadows really exists? I thought it was a myth.”

“It exists and I think you’re now ready to see it.” Persephone fixes me with a stern expression. “It’s important that the existence of the Book of Shadows stays between us.”

I make a face. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“When I’m not using it, I keep it in a secure place.” Persephone hoists the enormous book from beneath the coffee table. It lands with a heavy thud at the same time lightning flashes across the night sky. Thunder crashes so loudly, the walls tremble. I nearly jump onto Persephone’s lap.

“What’s the consequence for ticking off the goddesses?”

Persephone tucks a lock of hair behind my ear. “We should focus on finding a spell to help you and Dylan. We’ll worry about the goddesses later.”

I nod and turn my attention to the massive book. I fight the urge to reach out and touch it. Instead, I study the worn leather cover, with a design engraved on the front. It’s so faint I can barely make out the three interlocking oval symbols contained within a circle.

I point to the emblem. “What does it represent?”

Persephone runs her fingers over the engraving and releases a shallow breath. “The power of three. In our case, one oval for each of us: your gram, Henry, and me.”

“Does that mean I can’t use it?”

“You can use it. More importantly, once Henry and I are gone, this book will become yours. You can work the spells on your own, but eventually, you will need to find two more witches to work with. Spellcasting is optimal when performed by the power of three.”

How am I supposed to find witches to work with? Is there a database online, some kind of Match.com for witches?

Persephone opens the cover and flips through thick, yellowed pages. Some pages are stained. They make a crinkly sound as she turns them.

“Now, let’s see about that spell,” Persephone murmurs.

There are words I can’t pronounce on some of the pages. “Are some of the spells in Latin?”

“Many of the old ones are. You have to be careful with those. To mispronounce words can have dire consequences. It’s best to stick to the newer spells until you become familiar with the language. St. Aquinas offers Latin, doesn’t it?”

“They do. I’ll sign up for a class in the fall.”

Persephone continues to turn pages, her fingers running down the page as she looks for a spell to break what’s going on between Dylan and me. The handwriting from page to page is different. I recognize Gram’s. The others are probably Persephone’s and Henry’s.

As she flips to the middle of the book, I catch sight of a spell titled Reverse Memory Erasing Spell. When Persephone took away my memory of that night with Seamus in Marcus’s apartment, I felt violated. She took something that belonged to me without permission. I don’t care how painful it may be. It’s mine and I want it back.

“Here we go.” Persephone plunks her finger on a page. “This is the one.” She pats my hand. “We’ll get rid of your demon lust. Don’t you worry.”

I smirk at her. Persephone’s sense of humor sucks.

Persephone runs her finger down the page. She pauses.

“What is it?” I ask.

Her eyes narrow and focus as she leans closer to the book. Her expression pinches as she reads the text written in the right margin. I can’t make it out.

“Persephone…will this work?” I lean over to get a clear view of the tight scrawl.

She clears her throat and snaps the book closed. “Of course.”

I catch the waver in her voice. Lightening streaks through the room like the blinding flash of a dozen cameras, followed by a deafening thunderclap. I shriek and burrow against Persephone. This isn’t good. Not good at all.

* * * *

As soon as I get home from Persephone’s, I head to my bedroom and pull out my cell phone. No word from Dylan. I pace my bedroom. He’s not going to answer. He probably hates me. If he ignores me, how am I supposed to get him to come over on Saturday night? How can Persephone cast the spell? This crazy attraction has to end. It’s going to ruin our friendship. It’s going to ruin Marcus and me.

Stop being a wimp. Call him
!

I hit two buttons on my phone. My heart pounds in my chest as his phone rings. Voicemail again. “Dylan? Can you please call me when you get this message?” Will he listen to this? Or simply hit delete? “This is going to sound weird, but I—we, I mean Persephone—has a solution for our
problem
.” Darn it. He doesn’t know about the emanation. I recall his ex-girlfriend, Rachel, in one of her many slutty outfits. I’d bet these crazy puberty feelings are normal for
him
. “Please. This is important.”

I know I was the one who told him we couldn’t train together and he had to stay away from his dad’s house on Saturdays, but it hurts he’s ignoring me. I miss him.