New England Witch Chronicles

  The backyard was crowded to capacity. All the guests were in costume—werewolves mingling with fairies, vampires dancing with elves—it was definitely a sight to see. Sadie grabbed my good hand and we twisted through the crowd in search of our friends.

  Victor was the first person I recognized, probably because his costume looked so dumb. He was drinking with other middle-aged men. They were wearing matching Pilgrim costumes and they all looked absolutely ridiculous. It was Halloween, not Thanksgiving.

  Victor’s smile disappeared when he saw me. His eyes narrowed and his lips pulled together into a tight line. He still seemed angry about last night. I was willing to bet that I wasn’t getting any birthday wishes from him.

  I wanted to get as far away from Victor as we could. He was acting creepier than usual. I pulled Sadie by the arm (she was having trouble walking in her mermaid costume) and we dove into the crowd.

  “You two look darling!” Lauren LaViollette grinned from ear to ear.

  Emma stood next to her. They were dressed as Marie Antoinette and Anne Boleyn. White powder covered Emma’s face and neck. Both of their cheeks were bright with rouge. Mrs. LaViollette had a fake wig piled high on top of her head.

  Emma, who’d been talking to a Dragon, pulled away from her conversation. “Happy Birthday, Alexandria.” Her light green eyes landed on my witch’s hat and scurried all the way down to my black heels. She paused. Then she proudly lifted her chin. “You look nice.”

  I waited. No snide remark. No disorderly drunkenness. It was actually a polite comment. Something stirred inside of me. “Thanks, Mom.”

  Halloween did always bring the best out of Emma.

  “Is Peter here?” I asked Mrs. LaViollette.

  “You know, I’m not sure. Peter and Anne Marie were driving together because I came early.”

  “I’ll look for him.”

  “He’s probably doing the same,” Mrs. LaViollette said. Emma handed her a large flute of champagne.

  I grabbed Sadie’s hand again and we continued our search through the crowd of masked guests. After wiggling through a tight cluster of people, I stopped dead in my tracks. Sadie smashed into my back, but I barely noticed. Standing in front of me were two very tall, very lanky blond boys dressed as Superman and Batman. With tights.

  I had to smother my laughter. “Nice costumes.”

  “Er, thanks,” Lucas said. He was dressed as Batman and clearly embarrassed. Only his eyes and mouth were visible, but I was willing to bet he was beet red under his mask. I made a mental note to get my camera before the end of the night. I needed pictures.

  “How’s the wrist?” Logan asked. He seemed more confident in tights than his brother.

  I held up my bandaged hand. It was hardly noticeable under the flowing sleeves of my witch costume. “Getting better. Have you seen everyone else?”

  “Only Peter’s little sister,” Logan said. “She’s really hot, by the way. What’s her name, again?”

  Lucas elbowed Logan in the ribs. “We just got here, but we saw Anne Marie when we walked in. She’s a butterfly.”

  “Have you seen Peter?”

  The twins shook their heads.

  I kept searching faces, looking for Peter, but with everyone in masks or makeup, it was difficult to determine who was who. I might as well have been in a room full of strangers.

  I led Lucas, Logan and Sadie on a quest to find an empty table. As we made our way through the ever-growing crowd, I spotted some of our friends near the stage. Olivia, Jillian, Peter’s friend Sage, Anne Marie and James were gathered around a tall round table. No Peter.

  James pulled a bandana from his face, revealing his dimples. He was dressed as an outlaw—a tan duster, chaps with a gun holster, a cowboy hat and a red bandana. Dark eyes scanned my costume. “Happy birthday, Alex. You look great.”

  The way he was staring made me feel self-conscious. I needed a distraction. I waved across the table to Olivia and Jillian.

  Olivia was dressed as a belly dancer and Jillian was Snow White. Olivia’s stomach was exposed and I hoped James appreciated the view. I was sure it was for his benefit.

  “Wow, are those real leather chaps?” Olivia asked James. She stepped in closer to feel his costume.

  I discreetly moved aside so they could talk. Now that I’d successfully dodged the James-bullet, I could focus on finding Peter. His sister and Sage were here, but there was still no sign of him.

  Anne Marie wore a lilac butterfly costume. Logan was right, she looked amazing. Anne Marie seemed happy to see me. I guess our fight was water under the bridge now that Peter and I were back to normal. Spy-hirer or not, she was Peter’s little sister.

  Next to Anne Marie was Sage, who was dressed as a pirate. Sage lived across the street from Peter and was the goalie on their hockey team. I didn’t want to seem pushy about finding Peter, so I tried to put his absence out of my mind and have a good time with my friends. He’d show up eventually. Hopefully.

  The party was going well. People were dancing, eating and laughing. All my friends surrounded our little table (we had our own little party in the midst of my parents’ larger party). Everyone was here, with one notable exception.

  I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Sage, where’s Peter?”

  James, in the middle of his conversation with Olivia, stiffened slightly.

  “I don’t know,” Sage said.

  “He’s definitely here,” Anne Marie said. “He drove me.”

  Maybe Peter was talking with his mom and Emma? I hoped last night’s almost kiss hadn’t made things awkward between us. He seemed fine this morning. But maybe he had time to think about it during the day? Was he embarrassed by what almost happened? What if he didn’t want to face me?

  “You want to dance?”

  I blinked.

  “How about it?” James smiled.

  I felt like a deer in headlights. I didn’t want to dance, but I could feel my friends watching our conversation. James had been really nice to me and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings by shooting him down, especially in front of the whole table.

  I tried to stall while I thought of a better response than the initial outright rejection that first popped into my head. “I didn’t know you were a dancer.”

  “There are lots of things you don’t know about me.” James took my hand and pulled me through the crowd before I could object.

  That didn’t go as planned.

  We found a spot on the crowded floor. Next to us, Logan and Anne Marie were dancing. What would Peter think of that? Wherever he was.

  “What are you thinking about?” James asked.

  “Oh, nothing.” I tried to think of something to say to fill the awkward silence. “Is your dad here?”

  “He’s around here somewhere.”

  It felt weird dancing with James and I think he picked up on my uneasiness. The song finally ended and we stood in the middle of the dance floor stupidly looking at each other.

  James cracked his knuckles. “Want to get something to drink?”

  “Sure.” Before I could take a step, the band started playing the next song. I froze.

  “Glycerine,” I whispered.

  “What?”

  “This song. It’s Glycerine by Bush,” I said. My eyes roamed the crowd.

  “Bush?”

  “The band. You know? Gavin Rossdale. Early nineties.” I’d listened to this song a million times. Peter would groan whenever I put it on and sang (out of tune) at the top of my lungs. It was my all time favorite song. There was no possible way the band would play this song unless it was requested.

  Then I saw him.

  He was walking away from the stage, dressed all in black—black hat, black mask, black gloves and sword on his hip. Peter was Zorro. And he was heading straight for me.

  James pulled me toward the punch table. He hadn’t seen Peter yet. I dug my heels into the parquet floor. He turned to see why I was resisting. He looked confused until he saw Peter walking acro
ss the courtyard. Realization swept across James’s face.

  Vivid blue eyes contrasted against the black Zorro mask. “Happy birthday, Lex. You look amazing.” Peter swooped in and kissed me on the cheek.

  I couldn’t move.

  Peter flashed a bright smile down at James. “James, how are you?”

  I hadn’t noticed Peter was so much taller.

  James clenched his jaw as tight as a bear trap.

  “Want to dance, Lex?” Peter turned to James. “This is her favorite song.”

  “Sure,” I whispered. One, Peter hated this song. Two, we’d never danced to any song before.

  James was carefully watching me. I would’ve given a million dollars to see what my expression looked like. I could only imagine. I felt horrible for hurting his feelings.

  “I’ll be at the table.” James walked away.

  Peter pulled off his mask. He pushed the Zorro hat back so it hung from the string tied around his neck. His hair was messy from the hat, but it didn’t matter. He looked great.

  “Nice song request,” I said.

  “I thought you’d like it.” Peter’s arms enveloped me.

  I placed my head against his chest. A warm feeling spread through me. The same one I’d felt last night. The same one I’ve been feeling whenever Peter was around. I knew what it meant. My feelings for Peter had changed. They’d catapulted way past the friendship line. I’d always known deep down, but I was too afraid to admit it.

  “Did you make your birthday wish?”

  “Not yet.”

  “I know what I’d wish for,” Peter said.

  “What?”

  “You.”

  I glanced up to see if he was joking. He wasn’t.

  “I love you,” Peter said.

  I drew in my breath.

  “Wait, Lex, before you say anything. I want to be clear. I’m in love with you. I’ve always been in love with you.”

  I opened my mouth, but he placed his finger lightly over my lips. “You deserve so much better than me, but I can’t lose you.”

  We stopped dancing at the far end of the floor. Orange twinkle lights hung from a branch above us. Peter pulled me around the tree so we were hidden from the rest of the party. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky.

  “Last night, before we were interrupted, we didn’t even kiss and I felt like… I never felt like that before. It felt right. We felt right.” Peter let out a long breath. “I’m rambling.”

  “No, you’re not.” I reached for his hand.

  Peter squeezed my fingers. “All day I thought about what happened last night. It seemed like you felt the same way. At least I hope you do, because if you don’t, I’m sounding like a pretty big idiot.”

  I nodded.

  “You feel the same way? Or I sound like an idiot?”

  “I feel the same way,” I said.

  Peter’s hands framed my face. And before I could process what was happening, he was kissing me. His lips were soft and gentle. I kissed him back and our mouths moved in perfect rhythm, like we’d been practicing for years. That warm feeling spread through me like wildfire.

  My first kiss. Under the orange twinkle lights with Peter. He was right—we were right. We always had been.

  Peter pulled me closer. My arms wrapped around his neck. I wanted to feel him. Hold him. I wanted him close. I wanted to kiss away all the doubts he had about my feelings. I didn’t want the moment to end.

  “Alex?” James called from the dance floor.

  So much for my moment.

  Our lips pulled apart, but Peter didn’t let go of me. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  I rose to my tiptoes to reach Peter’s lips. I kissed him again. “Don’t be angry.”

  “Lover Boy is looking for you,” Peter said. “You know, I don’t think he likes me too much.”

  “Can you blame him?”

  Peter shrugged.

  “Be nice.” I dragged Peter out from behind the tree. James’s back was to us, but it was clear he was searching for me.

  “Hey,” I said to James.

  James whirled around. His eyes shot above my head to Peter standing very close behind me. The muscles in James’s face hardened to stone.

  “I was looking for you,” James said to me. “That song ended and I couldn’t find you.”

  “Right here.” I didn’t like the possessiveness in James’s voice. Peter didn’t either. I could feel the muscles tense in his body.

  “That’s your favorite song?” James asked.

  “Yes.” I placed my hat back on my head. My lips felt swollen from kissing Peter.

  “I’ll have to remember that,” James said.

  Peter snickered.

  James shot an icy look at Peter. “Do you have something you’d like to say?”

  “No, I think I already did,” Peter said. “You know, when I took Lex away from you on the dance floor.”

  Great. Way to be nice, Peter.

  This was about to get out of hand. “Enough,” I said to both of them. “Not here. Not at my parents’ house and not on my birthday.”

  My hat slid down over my eyes again. I snatched it off in frustration. I wanted to get rid of the hat. Stash it in my bedroom. Actually, I wanted out of this awkward situation. I needed breathing room. The overload of male testosterone was stressing me out.

  “Peter, Sage was looking for you. James, I think Lucas and Logan are waiting for you at the table. I’ll be back.” And I walked away without another word and without looking back at either of them. I trusted that they wouldn’t start a fight at my parents’ party.

  At least, I hoped they wouldn’t.

  The backyard was full of people. I’d only gone a few feet when Mrs. LaViollette and some of Emma’s friends cornered me. They bombarded me with questions about my wrist, the car accident, school and all other forms of gossip that had been circling Hazel Cove in the past few weeks. I answered pointless questions (for what seemed like forever) until I could excuse myself from their little soiree. They definitely didn’t need any more champagne.

  I wiggled and wormed another few feet before Dr. Cooper stopped to ask about my wrist. At this rate, I was never going to make it inside. I small talked with Dr. and Mrs. Cooper for an adequate amount of time and then excused myself. I kept my head down as I walked. Eye contact meant chitchat and it had already taken me almost an hour to get through the crowded backyard.

  I finally reached the house and decided to take the back staircase. I didn’t want to run into anyone else. The enclosed stairs spiraled like a coil and I couldn’t see my bedroom until I was on the second floor. The lights were on and the door was ajar. I could have sworn I’d flicked off the switch when Sadie and I went downstairs.

  I stepped inside.

  The balcony curtains flapped into the room. Dead leaves were scattered over the carpet. The sliding glass door was open and Peter’s handmade wooden stick, which should’ve been in the metal slot, was on the floor in the leaf debris.

  I tossed my hat onto the chair. I wasn’t sure whether I’d turned off the lights. Maybe I left them on. But I was absolutely positive that the sliding glass door was shut. And locked. With the wooden stick in the metal slot.

  I cautiously stepped outside, half expecting to see some drunken couple making out on my balcony. No one was there. Sounds from the party roared from below, but I couldn’t see anyone. The side of the house and the trees, though mostly leafless, obscured my view of that part of the backyard.

  Nothing appeared out of place.

  Then I noticed a rope tied to the left side of the balcony. A braided utility rope wrapped tightly around the stone railing. I wiped my sweaty hands on my dress. It was just a rope, right? I took the necessary two steps to the railing and leaned over to see what it was holding.

  It couldn’t be.

  I had to get down to the ground. I flung off my heels. It’d take too long to get through the crowd downstairs. If Peter and my intruder could use the oak tree
to get to my balcony, then I could use it to get down.

  I swung my legs over the stone railing and held on for dear life. My foot groped for the sturdy branch two feet away. I grabbed a limb above my head and swung over to the tree.

  That wasn’t so hard.

  I dipped my foot below to the next branch. My bare foot scraped against the rough bark. It was like climbing a ladder. Step by step. I jumped the final few feet to the grass.

  The corner of the house, bushes and trees obscured my view of the party. I couldn’t see faces, only lights and movement.

  I sucked in a gulp of air. Something was certainly hanging from the railing on the far side of my balcony.

  Please be a prop. Please be a prop. Please be a prop.

  Even as I was praying, some logical portion of my mind responded: Why would there be a prop all the way over here? Why would Emma decorate this side of the house? Guests would never come over here.

  I walked in a wide circle to avoid getting too close. I kept my eyes on the grass. It slowly swayed in my peripheral vision. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to run, but I couldn’t. I was too afraid. I counted to three before I forced myself to look up.

  The noose was securely tied underneath the white rubber mask. Right at the throat. The head hung to the side at an unnatural angle. Blue curly hair sprouted obscenely in all directions. Red oversized shoes swung back and forth in a sickening rhythm.

  My first coherent thought was: this isn’t a prop. Nope. It was real.

  My second thought was: I recognize the clown costume.

  I didn’t have any coherent thoughts after that. It took me a while to realize that the ear-piercing scream was my own.

  The music stopped. Costumed guests rushed through the trees and bushes, flocking to my screams. I placed my hand over my chest to keep my pounding heart inside. I slapped the other hand over my mouth to stifle my shrieks.

  A crowd formed around me, but no one was recognizable because of the masks and makeup. Why was all their attention focused on me? Then I realized that the mob of people hadn’t noticed the body yet.

  A woman dressed as a zombie followed my line of sight. I knew the exact moment she comprehended what she was seeing because her pupils dilated. She lifted her arm, covered in torn rags, to point. The crowd collectively looked up. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi.