“Is it working?” he replies as he sets the book and the glasses down on the coffee table.
“I almost mistook you for Krista.”
“It’s the hair, isn’t it?”
I shake my head as I take a seat on the sofa. I need to cool off before I go to Mr. Avante’s house. “How’s your head?”
“As sick as ever,” he replies with a smirk. “Hey, your mom made some lasagna for lunch if you’re hungry.”
“Lasagna? She’s really pulling out all the stops for you,” I reply. “I don’t have time to eat. I have to walk Nina.”
“Sweet! Give me a minute and I’ll get my shoes on.”
“You can’t go out there in this heat.”
“Why not? It’s not like I have cancer. I have a fractured bone.”
“A fractured skull.”
“And what damage is the sun going to inflict on my skull? A sunburn? You’re the one who should be worried about that, pale face.”
I don’t tell him I basically invited Conor to meet me at the dog park today because I don’t want to confess that Conor never replied. Our pizza party in Frankie’s hospital room two days ago was extremely awkward for the first three minutes, which is when the nurse came in to kick Conor and me out because visiting hours were up. There’s no one to kick us out of the dog park if things get too strange.
When Mr. Avante opens the door and sees Frankie’s lack of hair he covers his mouth to stifle a laugh. “They did you wrong, son.”
“Thanks, Mr. Avante,” Frankie says. “I’ll make sure to pass that review onto the surgical staff.”
“How are you doing, honey?” Mr. Avante asks me as he hands over Nina’s leash. She trots out onto the porch step and turns her pointy Pomeranian muzzle up at me as if to say, “Okay, I’m ready.”
“I’m fine. My head is significantly less lopsided today,” I reply.
Frankie examines my skull with his fingers. “Nope, still as lopsided as ever. You should get that looked at.”
“Oh, don’t you tease her,” Mr. Avante says. “Did you do as I said and take Miss Belinda out for a nice dinner?”
I can’t believe Mr. Avante still remembers our conversation from yesterday. I feel a little guilty that I was hoping he would forget. Frankie appears confused, but he’s probably too afraid to say anything in case Mr. Avante is the one who’s confused.
“Mr. Avante thinks you need to celebrate your recovery by taking me to dinner,” I clarify, and a grin creeps up the left side of his mouth.
Mr. Avante nods his head adamantly. “Uh-huh. You need to thank God for saving you and there ain’t no better way than to do something nice for a friend—a pretty friend.”
“I agree,” Frankie replies. “I’m on it, Mr. Avante.”
Frankie spends the entire walk to the dog park mulling over where he should take me to celebrate the fact that God decided not to kill him.
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” I say as we round the corner and I finally glimpse the fence around the dog park. Someone is sitting on the bench where Conor normally sits, but I can’t see who it is through the chain-link.
“What? That God spared my life? No, but Mr. Avante does. If it makes him happy, and he insists I rejoice, I’m not going to refuse an excuse to celebrate.”
“You know, you’re starting to sound more and more like a 300-year-old spirit every day. It’s kind of creepy.”
“You think carrier spirits are creepy? You’ve never met a shadow spirit. Now that is creepy. All smoke and shadow, no form, lingering and slithering in the cracks of the walls and dark basements just waiting to suck the hope out of anyone they come across.”
“Are you trying to scare me? ‘Cause it’s working,” I reply as we enter the gate into the dog park. Before I can get a look at the person sitting on the bench, my phone vibrates. I pull it out of my pocket and glance at the screen.
I’m here.
I look up and Conor is staring at us from the bench. He’s not wearing the usual boyish grin I’ve gotten used to seeing whenever we see each other.
“You didn’t tell me he was going to be here,” Frankie whispers as we plod toward Conor.
“I didn’t know he was coming today,” I whisper before I kneel down and unclip Nina’s leash. She scampers off to play with Dizzy, which usually consists of her nipping at Dizzy’s legs while he jumps around trying to avoid her.
“Hey,” I say as Conor slides over to the end of the bench for Frankie and me to take a seat.
Conor doesn’t smile; he just nods at me as if I’m one of his buddies. “Hey.”
I look to Frankie for him to return this barely cordial greeting and he reluctantly obliges.
“Hey, buddy,” Frankie says in a slightly cheery tone.
I elbow him in the arm and he rolls his eyes at me. This is what it must feel like to be a mother with children who refuse to get along.
Conor gazes out across the park where little Nina is chasing Dizzy. Frankie sits on the bench, tilting his head back and closing his eyes as the sun warms his face. This antisocial behavior isn’t totally unexpected from Frankie, considering his usual I don’t care what anyone thinks of me manner, but this is not what I would have expected from Conor. Sweet Catholic schoolboy, Conor. The boy who wiped my puke off the floor of Frankie’s hospital room then brought us pizza so we could share an awkward meal together amid the scent of my vomit.
Say something, Belinda.
Then it happens again. The park gets fuzzy. Mara’s here.
“Did you have any finals today?” I ask Conor, I guess she’s hoping to at least get an explanation as to why he never texted me back until a minute ago.
“We had finals last week,” he replies without looking at me. A crease forms between his eyebrows as if he’s trying to work something out in his head.
“Mrs. Preciso agreed to let us both take the final on the last day of school,” I say to Frankie. So Mara has been following me around today.
“Cool,” he replies.
“You’re both in the same English class?” Conor asks. “What a coincidence.”
“Coincidence?” I reply. “It’s actually pretty common. We had three classes together last year.” How does Mara know this?
“Three classes?” Conor says as if he’s impressed, but he’s just being sarcastic. And he’s still refusing to look at me. “That must have been so fun.”
Frankie glares at me, but I know the glare is directed through me to where Conor sits on my right. “Is there a problem, man?”
Conor leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees before he turns his head slowly toward Frankie. “No problem here, man.”
“Okay,” I say as I stand from the bench. “I guess this was a bad idea to come here today.” And for the first time in a while I’m glad for Mara’s presence. The last thing I need is for Conor and Frankie to get in a fistfight while Frankie’s head is still recovering. “Call me when you’re ready to apologize,” I say to Conor before I turn on my heel and march toward Nina.
She runs to me, but I can’t see the silver loop in her collar. Mara must have no problem seeing it because she latches the leash onto Nina’s collar with ease. When I turn around, Frankie and Conor are glaring at each other in complete silence.
“Frankie! Come on!” I shout, but he doesn’t flinch. They sit there like a couple of wild animals in a standoff. Mara, do something! They both stand from the bench at exactly the same moment. As I race toward them something shifts. The Earth shudders beneath my feet. I can feel.
I can feel the sun on my face. I can feel the spongy grass beneath my feet. I can feel the electrical charge, the energy pulsating from where they stand. But nobody and nothing is moving—except me.
My hands stretch before me and a sickening force rumbles inside my chest and rockets through my body. The force explodes like lightning from my hands just as Conor lunges at Frankie. It hits Conor in the chest and sends his body soaring backward.
Chapter 39
br /> I am in a state of shock as I watch Belinda help Conor off the grass. He’s fine. Frankie’s fine. No spirits detached. No skulls cracked further open. But it wasn’t me. Belinda used me.
I’ve never had a human awaken inside me to the point where they were able to use my power. Carrier spirits use their carriers. Not the other way around.
I wonder if she saw it. That flash. It’s so quick, most humans never even notice it. A flash of silver light in the pupils of the eye. It always happens when a spirit enters or exits a human body. Belinda would have been too far away to notice it when she entered the dog park with Frankie, but I saw it.
Darius is stepping up his game. He knows I’m not going to give up and he’s going to use Conor to stop me.
Frankie watches Belinda brush the grass off Conor’s back with the same guarded astonishment. He knows something’s not right and he’ll think it was I who did this to Conor. Frankie’s probably wondering why I would even want to protect him from Conor. He doesn’t know it was Belinda. And I’m not going to tell him.
I have to handle Darius myself.
Chapter 40
Listen
Conor doesn’t know what happened to him. At first, Conor’s ready to pounce on Frankie until he realizes, from the confused look on Frankie’s face and my frantic reassurance, that it wasn’t Frankie who sent him soaring over the bench.
Conor’s scared. So am I. What did I just do?
“I still don’t understand what happened. It feels like a dream,” Conor says as he snaps his fingers for Dizzy to come to his side. Then he turns to Frankie. “I was going to… I was going to tackle you, wasn’t I?”
Frankie shakes his head. “I don’t know what you were going to do, but you’re lucky you lost your balance and tripped over that bench.”
Frankie’s covering for me… or Mara… whoever did this. It feels like a dream. That phrase is so familiar. Frankie must have the same suspicions I do about what caused Conor’s strange behavior.
We stroll out to the parking lot next to the dog park and we all seem to be in a daze. I have a strong urge to bite my nails, but I broke that habit four years ago. Frankie stops and leans against the fence a few yards away from Conor’s car while I follow Conor.
“Are you sure you can drive home?” I ask Conor as he holds the passenger seat forward so Dizzy can jump into the backseat.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he replies. “You want to come hang out?”
I glance at Frankie before I answer. “I can’t. Maybe tomorrow night.” I try not to sound too disappointed that I can’t go with Conor, but I am. I want to make sure he’s okay, but I have to take care of Frankie tonight while my mom’s at another Chamber of Commerce meeting; it’s probably just another ploy to get Frankie and me alone again.
Conor grabs my hand and smiles; that boyish grin that makes my shoulders weak. “Thanks for coming today,” he says, before he kisses me on the cheek and puts his lips next to my ear to whisper, “I’ll come by your house later. We need to talk.”
A shiver passes through me as he gives my hand a tiny squeeze and rounds the car to climb in the driver’s side. I watch him for a moment as he pulls out of the parking lot then I turn to Frankie. He’s already walking toward my house.
“Wait!” I call out. I want to tell him about what happened, but I’m still not sure what happened. He pauses on the sidewalk to wait for Nina and me to catch up. The shattered expression on his face makes my throat ache. I want to apologize for letting Conor kiss me in front of him, but I know I shouldn’t have to apologize for that. So I compromise. “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”
He shrugs as if he knows what I’m really apologizing for and he’s trying to make it seem like it’s no big deal that another boy kissed me. “I’m less worried about you keeping me waiting than I am about you being around that guy. There’s something wrong with him.”
“Do you think he…?” I can’t bring myself to say the words.
Frankie glances at me sideways as we turn the corner. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this happened. I spoke to Mara yesterday.”
“You spoke to her? What happened?” It’s weird, but knowing that Frankie spoke to Mara, the girl he was betrothed to centuries ago, makes me a little jealous.
“Not much. I apologized for the way I hurt her and she didn’t really accept my apology, but she said something interesting. She said that she was able to earn her body back three hundred years ago, but, obviously, she lost it again.”
“I know. She told me that, too. What’s so interesting about that?”
“Well, don’t you find it a little odd that she was able to earn her body back three hundred years ago, but she hasn’t been able to do it again since then? It’s almost as if something or someone has been stopping her.”
I want to hug Frankie for being so smart and honest. This must be why Mara grilled Conor on the front porch the other day. That’s what Conor was going to tell me just before my mom opened the door and interrupted him. That’s why he was acting like a jerk today. He’s possessed by someone who’s trying to stop Mara from getting her body back. But who would hate Mara enough to do something like that?
It’s nearly midnight when Frankie falls asleep in my bed. I tiptoe downstairs and quietly open the coat closet beneath the stairs. I slip my feet into my quietest pair of ballet flats and make my escape through the front door.
Conor is sitting on the front steps. He doesn’t hear me open the door and step onto the porch behind him, but as soon as the door clicks shut he whips his head around.
That smile. It could light up a galaxy. I can’t believe it’s meant just for me. It almost makes me feel selfish.
I take a seat next to him on the porch and he bumps my shoulder with his shoulder. “Crazy day, huh?” he says, and the solemn timbre of his voice belies the dismissive words. As if “crazy” could begin to describe this day. “I’m leaving in ten days.”
The words crash over me like a towering wave. “Where are you going?” I say, but my voice is a little too high. He must be here to tell me about his plans for after graduation.
“I’m moving to San Francisco,” he replies as he grabs my hand. He weaves his fingers through mine and brings my hand to his lips. “I’m going to UCSF on full scholarship,” he continues. “My parents wouldn’t pay my way, so I earned my way in. I already have a roommate and an apartment lined up. I have to get there the Monday after graduation so I can start looking for a job.”
Roommate. Apartment. Job. It all sounds so grown-up. I thought he was coming here to tell me he’s being possessed by a carrier spirit. This news is unexpected and possibly worse. I can see he’s waiting for me to respond, but all I can think is that we may be sitting here, our fingers intertwined, side by side, our bodies pressed against each other, but we’re worlds apart.
“Are you going to say anything?” he asks with a note of uncertainty as he stares into my eyes.
I put on my most sincere smile. “That’s… so great,” I say. “And really brave.” That’s it, Belinda? Mara enters my body and, in Conor’s eyes, I see a reflection of light flash in my eyes. “I knew we were both leaving for college soon. I guess I figured we’d at least have the summer together.”
Yes, that is better than what I would have said. But I really wish Mara would go away right now.
“Well, we can still visit each other over the summer,” he says, conveniently leaving off what will happen after the summer, when we’re both at different colleges. He reaches up and brushes a stray strand of hair away from my face. “It’s only a three-hour drive. I can come down once a week and you can take the train up on holidays.”
I have a bad feeling about what Mara is going to say to this. My hand, Mara’s hand, reaches across the space between us and grabs the front of his shirt. As I pull him toward me, something flashes in his eyes. Like the flash I saw in my eyes. He tilts his head as I release him.
“Are you okay, Conor?” I ask, but surely Mara alre
ady knows the answer to this question. Conor is definitely not okay.
He leans forward, invading my space, but Mara doesn’t waiver. “There is only one thing that will make me okay,” he whispers, and his face is an inch from mine. “If you stop all this nonsense and come away with me.”
Is this the other spirit speaking to Mara or is it trying to speak to me?
“I’d rather stay here on these steps for the remainder of eternity than take a single step with you,” I reply.
Oh, Mara. That’s cold.
The flash comes again and Conor blinks his eyes a few times. Mara exits my body immediately and the anguish in his face becomes clear.
“Hey, I didn’t mean that,” I say, unsure if he understands what just happened.
“I know,” he whispers before he stands up. He won’t look at me. “There’s something going on inside me. It’s been happening ever since I met you.”
“What are you talking about?” I say, standing up so I can look him in the eye, but his eyes are still focused on the street.
“This thing… that just happened,” he whispers. “I never believed in any of the stuff they taught us about evil spirits and demons in school. But all this stuff started happening when I met you. The drawings, the stuff in my bedroom moving around, that thing at the park today… this.”
He thinks he’s possessed by an evil spirit. Hell, for all I know he could be right. Somehow, I get the feeling it’s just a carrier spirit who’s more than a little obsessed with Mara.
“On our first date, you asked me if I believe in fate,” I say, and he finally looks at me. Something has shifted inside of me. The veneer of doubt is crumbling. “Maybe… maybe that’s what this is. It doesn’t have to be evil, does it? What if it’s a sign?” I can’t believe I’m even saying these words. But what if there is such a thing as fate?