“Oh, yeah, about that. You’re sort of not invited.”
Brent had raised his soda to his mouth but didn’t drink. Instead he stared at me. “Not invited?”
I held up my hands. “I want you there. But he specifically told me to come alone.”
Brent’s hand tightened around his glass. “And you’re still going?”
“Yes,” I sighed. “He knows more about the history of the old Pendrell house than I do, so I figured—”
“I thought Cherie was doing research at the historical society.”
“She is, but most of what she finds is about Corona in general. DJ seems to know stuff about the Pendrell family. All the juicy rumors and innuendos.”
“Is ‘innuendos’ really the best word choice right now?”
“You aren’t jealous, are you?” I stole another fry.
“I’m sensing some hypocrisy here. You specifically forbade me from studying with Sara last year.”
“You said the same thing about Dallin. That was different, we had both dated them and it was awkward.”
Brent took a long drink. “Right.”
“Brent, he has important information and I need it. I have to play by his little rules long enough to get what I want from him and then I’m done.”
“Except for your love child, of course.”
I slumped in my chair. “Don’t remind me.”
He gave me a level stare. I spun the ketchup bottle under my fingers. “I want you there.”
Brent’s shoulder’s relaxed. “That’s okay, I’m sure you can handle it.”
I stared at him incredulously. “You complained about not coming and now that you’re invited you don’t want to go?”
“I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t not invited.” I punched him in the arm and he winced. “I thought we cured you of those aggression issues.” I went to punch him again and he dodged out of the way. His teasing smile faded. “Actually, I couldn’t come anyway. I have an appointment with my parents today.”
“Where are you going?”
He ignored my question. “I’m not jealous. I just don’t trust the guy. I know you can take care of yourself, but please be careful.”
“I will be.”
v
DJ was right on time for our meeting at the library. “Did you bring it?”
He patted the pocket of his coat. “Yep.”
I held out my hand. “Give it to me.
“Not here.”
“Fine. Where then?” I asked brusquely.
He wet his lips, his index fingers tapping along the edge of his black pants. “Let’s walk around.”
“Okay.”
He kept folding his hands behind his back, then letting them swing by his side, and the clasping them behind him again.
After about four minutes of walking I finally started the conversation. “How did you get those pictures of Brent and me?”
He shrugged. “I stole them.”
“Whoa,” I said, stopping my walk to look at him, “that’s not the answer I was expecting. Who did you steal them from?”
He turned us at a corner in the walkway and glanced over his shoulder. “There are some powerful people who are interested in what we can do.”
“What do you mean, ‘what we can do’?”
“We can’t talk about this out in the open. Here,” he said, opening a door.
I hadn’t paid much attention to where we were going, but when he gestured for me to go inside the pool house I jolted back to reality.
“No. No way. I’m not going in there.”
DJ grunted. “Please come inside. We have important information to discuss and we need some privacy.”
“True, but I’m not going in there with you.”
“You’re wearing your necklace, right,” he pointed out. “So you’re protected?”
My eyebrows crawled up under my bangs. “How do you know that?”
“I know a lot about you and your friends,” he said quietly. I looked him right in the eyes for a moment and he stared back at me, never breaking his gaze.
“I’m not going in there.” I leaned against the railing outside the pool house and folded my arms across my chest. Last time a boy had invited me in, I had ended up dead. “What exactly do you know?”
He let go of the door and reclined against the opposite railing. “I know Brent can project and he can move things. I know you can see ghosts and project, too.”
“My ability to see ghosts isn’t exactly a secret.”
“True.” He chuckled slightly. “But I didn’t believe it until I saw it for myself. I’d heard about it, but . . . ” he stopped and shook his head. “You’re right, I’d heard what people were saying on campus, but I was one of your biggest non-believers.”
“You’re not exactly endearing yourself to me, you know.”
He dropped his chin to his chest, his eyes down. “Believe me, no one was more surprised than I was to find out you really can see ghosts. It was a rough night for me after that alumni party.”
“Oh, I feel so bad for you. You stole what Sophia was guarding, and she blamed me. Then, she decided I was also the one who killed her, and has been trying to return the favor ever since. What a rough night you must have had.”
“Fair enough. I deserved that,” he said in a small voice. He raised his head, still not meeting my eyes. “I also know that Steve guy you hang around with doesn’t seem to have any special powers, but he did save your life last year. And lastly I know that Ree is fantastic at research and your best supporter in everything mystical and magical.”
My head snapped up at the mention of Cherie’s old nickname. “Ree. You mean Cherie.”
He nodded.
“Nobody’s called her that since elementary school.” DJ’s face took on an uh-oh look and I barked out a laugh. “I knew it! I knew I knew you from somewhere! Who are you?”
His face went blank and he opened the door again. “Are you coming in or not?”
I shook my head. “I can’t go in there.”
“It’s more private and I don’t want anyone to overhear us. It’s the only way you’re going to get your answers. Are you coming or not?”
He let go of the door, grabbed me around my wrists and dragged me over the threshold and into the room.
“NO!” I screamed. I flailed my arms and kicked my legs that dragged behind me. The smell of chlorine wrapped around me like a noose, my vision darkened, and my chest felt like it was caving in on itself. He dropped me onto a chair and pulled the door closed. I shot to my feet but a feeling of wooziness forced me back down in the chair.
I could barely breathe but I managed to beg, “Please, keep the door open.”
“Do you promise to hear me out?”
I nodded and brushed away the unwanted tears leaking from my eyes.
He opened the door and the fresh scent of outside, of trees and living things somewhat eased the tight feeling in my chest. DJ sat in the chair across from me and handed me Taffy, who had fallen during the struggle. “You’re pale.”
“And you’re a jerk. Start talking.” I swallowed the bitter taste of fear that had congealed in my mouth. I clutched Taffy to my chest and breathed in the powdery flour smell in an attempt to diminish the chlorine scent that was wafting all around me.
“Are you alright?”
“You know what happened here, right?”
He ducked his head. “Yes, I know.”
“Then you know I’m not alright.” I didn’t say anything else, but kept my eyes trained on the open glass door, knowing I was only a few feet from the exit. I’m not in danger, I kept telling myself. “Tell me what you know about Sophia Pendrell.”
He rested his elbow on his knee and cradled his chin in his hand. “Based on the painting you saw of Christopher Pendrell, what sort of man do you think he was?”
I paused to consider that. “Stuffy. Old fashioned.” I shrugged. “What Steve would call a Rule Nazi.”
“Rule Nazi???
? DJ chuckled. “Would you believe me if I told you that he had a wild streak?”
I thought back to my first impression of the man and his lemon-sucking expression. “No,” I answered honestly.
“Well he did. He loved the international races that Corona hosted. He was one of the race’s biggest supporters. He loved living dangerously and taking risks.”
“Okay, but how is that important?”
“When the best prep-school wouldn’t accept his sons, he started his own and vowed to make it better than the ones that had spurned them. He was ruthless. He fed his sons a plant he’d never even tested because it was said to make them smarter.” DJ grinned. “It gets better. You know Sophia, his wife?”
“Yes, we’ve met.”
DJ flexed his fingers and examined his nails. “She was originally engaged to Christopher’s oldest son, Evan.”
“What?”
“I know, right? Talk about robbing the cradle. But it wasn’t uncommon back then. One of Evan’s college friends introduced them and she came home with him on Christmas break. She and Evan got in some huge fight. He left her there when he went back to school and next thing you know she and Christopher are getting married. He was twenty five years older than she was.”
“That’s kind of disgusting.”
“Agreed.”
“So did Evan kill her in a jealous rage?” That would explain why Sophia’s presence was always drenched in sadness.
“I’d put my money on him or his brother.” DJ rubbed his palms together and leaned forward in his chair. “The day before the accident, Sophia had tea with her friends. From what they said later, Sophia was a nervous wreck. She said her stepsons wanted something Christopher had given to her to protect. She refused to say what it was, though. All she told them was that she had found a safe place to hide it.”
“Did the police question the boys after her death?”
“They did, several times. Evan and Jesse both insisted she simply fell. Neither of the boys had an alibi, but each time a new cop would talk to them, no matter how certain he was that the Pendrell boys were involved, the cop ended up changing his mind. After the interviews, the cops couldn’t really even put their finger on what made them change their minds. They must have been pretty persuasive.”
“Maybe they paid off the cops?”
“That’s a possibility.” DJ crossed his ankle over his knee and shifted back in his chair. “Either way, with the lack of physical evidence, they were home clear.”
“Hmmm.” Did they really bribe the cops? I know I’d suggested it, but I’d also read the article Cherie had shown me. Like DJ said, it was possible, but these were the same men who had convinced a woman to steal and talked a man into aiding in a murder. But there had to be more to it than them both being silver-tongued.
I’d have to figure that out later. I still needed some more information. “So, what was Sophia guarding? You know, the thing you stole? The thing she blamed on me? The reason she’s been beating me to a pulp?”
“Yeah,” DJ admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t know she’d do that.”
“Well, what was it? An alternate will? His prized coin collection? The family jewels?”
“No, it was a key.”
The anti-climatic answer deflated my wild theories. “A… key? Nothing else?”
He shook his head. “Nothing else. No note. No treasure. Just a key.”
My hands tightened around Taffy. “A key. Well, hand it over. The sooner I put it back, the sooner she’ll find some peace and leave me alone.”
“I can’t,” DJ said. He flicked at his shoelace.
I gave him a level stare. “What? We had a deal.”
“I know. I needed to talk to you, and you wouldn’t agree to come otherwise. But I still need it.”
“Need it for what?”
“Leverage,” he said simply.
“Leverage against whom?”
“You’d really be happier not knowing. Not to mention, it’s physically impossible for me to tell you. They did some sort of gag spell on me; it involved my blood. If I were you, I’d leave it alone.”
“I’m up to my neck in this because of you.”
DJ had the decency to look ashamed.
“I’m really sorry about that,” he said. His voice sounded sincere. “I didn’t know she would attach herself to you like that. Seriously. I’m sorry to get you so involved. Where is she now?”
“Trapped in the mirrors around campus.”
DJ looked impressed. “How did you manage that?”
“Trade secrets,” I said, deciding to skip over the detail that it had actually been Vovó who had done the trapping. “She’s stuck there, wandering around from mirror to mirror.”
“You need to be careful, Yara.” He studied the back of his hands. “There’s more going on than just that ghost.”
“You mean this mysterious group that’s supposedly interested in me?”
“Exactly. That’s what I really brought you down here to talk about. You have to be careful. They’ve already started sucking you in. If you get any deeper, you’ll be stuck so tightly that you’ll never get out.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. The only thing I’ve been sucked into is being a Waker.” I placed Taffy in my lap and tucked my hands under my legs. “I just need to get that ghost out of the mirror and out of my life. Then my involvement with this whole thing will be done.”
DJ snorted. “If only it were that easy.”
“You don’t believe me? This is my family business, you know. It’s what we do.”
“I know.” DJ paused. “But the thing about these people is, they bring you in so slowly that you don’t even realize it’s happening.”
“Whatever.”
DJ shook his head. “Remember those pictures I gave you?”
“Yeah.”
“You were being scoped out by recruiters.”
“What?”
“I found those pictures while I was snooping around through their stuff. They’re looking for people who can do what you and Brent and I can do. That’s how I figured out that you two were their top targets. I thought you should be given fair warning so you had time to run for it.” He frowned at me. “Obviously that didn’t work though, since you’re still here.”
“Because you never actually said anything. You were all like ‘Hi, my name is DJ. I’m cryptic’ and then stole the key and left us.” I scowled at him. “Wait a minute, what do you mean they’re looking for more people who can do what you and I and Brent can do?”
DJ looked me right in the eye. “I can project.”
“Astral project?”
He nodded.
“How did you find out you could?”
“After I got accepted here, I met with an unknown benefactor who was going to give me a full ride scholarship for my music.”
“How very Dickens of you.”
He nodded. “Yeah, just call me Pip. Anyway, we were sitting in the music room and he handed me some tea. I drank some and I felt sort of strange and then suddenly I was projecting. It was a test and I passed. They are looking for people who could project and I could.”
“Sounds like they slipped you some black licorice. Been there, done that.” I kicked off my ballet flats. “So you really think your scholarship wasn’t for your music?”
“I think it helped, but that wasn’t my most important talent.”
“Can you project off campus too, or only here?”
He let his bangs fall in his eyes, obscuring them from my view “Only on campus. Being able to project off campus is very rare. It’s practically non-existent.” He paused, moving his bangs so he could meet me fully in the eyes. “Which is what makes you and Brent so special.”
“You’re making us sound like we’re collectable action figures, or . . . some sort of investment.”
“To them you are. Add in Brent’s powers of telekinesis and weather control. And your ability to see ghost
s.” He ticked off on his fingers as he mentioned each ability. “How could they not want you? Sometime soon, someone is going to approach you. They’re going to take what’s most important to you and use it to get you to do what they want from you.” He swallowed. “Take it from someone who’s been there. Tell them no.”
“That won’t be a problem,” I stated firmly. “I have no intention of joining a group that’s been spying on me.”
“You say that now, but wait until they crank up the pressure. They know how to get to you. You won’t find it as easy as you think to say no.”
The absolute conviction in his voice made me more frightened than I wanted to admit. “How do they know all of this about us?”
“They have sources, but I don’t know who or what they are.”
I ran a trembling hand through my hair. “Assuming that any of this is true, why warn me about it? You’re already one of them. You’re the enemy, so to speak.”
DJ visibly flinched. “I’m not one of them. I’m warning you because . . . because I owe it to you.” He averted his eyes and loosened his tie.
“About time you admit it. Ever since you took that key, I—”
“Not for that. Okay, for that too, but . . . ” He took a deep breath and pointed at my left eye. “For that.”
I touched the spot above my eye but the only thing I felt was my scar. I looked into DJ’s green eyes and something clicked into place.
Chapter Nine
“Doogie?” His glasses were gone, his buckteeth were straightened, and his towheaded hair had darkened to a sandy blonde, but if I looked at him just right, I could see the boy I had known: the love of my second grade life, my first kiss, and the infamous rock thrower. No wonder I’d thought he looked familiar; he’d broken my heart.
He winced and his cheeks flamed red. “Yeah. Although I haven’t been called Doogie since fifth grade.”
“I thought you moved to Seattle!”
“I did. We moved back at the end of school last year. I got a scholarship here because of my music.”
I remembered the hours he had spent in his practice room when we were kids. Melodies popped into my head of songs I had listened to him practice over and over until they were perfect. He had been talented, even then. “You’re still doing that? You must be incredible by now.”