A smile spread over my face, the first real one in over a month.
I rode back to campus with my friends. Travis was asleep in the back seat when we pulled into the school’s parking lot. He stretched his arms and yawned when the car stopped.
Steve turned from the front seat so he could see Travis. “Trav, I am so glad you were in our room last night. I wouldn’t have known what to do if I’d been there alone when he started his seizure.”
Travis shrugged. “I had some practice my freshman year when Phil was my roommate. He had epilepsy.”
My mind caught on his words and a far-fetched idea formed in my mind. “Phil Lawson?” I asked slowly.
Travis nodded. “Yes.”
I reached out and grabbed Audrey’s hand to ground me and keep me from projecting. “Was he also the roommate who liked his eggs the way Brent had them this morning?”
“Yeah,” Travis said. “How did you know?”
“Did he have a peanut allergy?” I pressed, my voice becoming more urgent.
Travis shook his head. “Not that I know of.”
“Was he color blind?”
Travis shook his head again. “I don’t know. Why? What’s up?”
I could hardly speak. It was a good thing I was already sitting down. “I. . . I think I might know what’s wrong with Brent.”
v
At my internship that afternoon, I cobbled together a plan to investigate my new theory as I organized the guest list for an upcoming alumni event. I kept glancing at the time, willing it to move faster. With each hesitant tick of the clock, my nerves coiled tighter and tighter until I was afraid I might explode. More than once I second-guessed my plan, but I didn’t see a better option. By four o’clock, I had soaked through my shirt. I walked into Lesley’s office and found her still on the phone.
“Yes, I’m sure those are the earliest blueprints we have. I checked with the city. They have the same ones too.” She hung up and rolled her eyes. “I can’t produce something that doesn’t exist.”
“That’s true.”
She glanced at her clock then smiled at me as she shut down her computer. Since I had ended up lost on my first day, Lesley usually escorted me out. I suspected the Clutch didn’t want me wandering around the building on my own.
“I thought today would never end,” Lesley said.
“My thoughts exactly. What happened with you?”
“The construction workers are almost ready to work on the old pool room, but they keep having issues with the wiring. The circuits keep blowing. Keeping tabs on them isn’t supposed to be part of my job, but Mr. Crosby insists on being updated on the progress of the restoration.”
“That sucks.”
I hesitated when we reached the outside door.
“Is everything okay?” she asked.
I hit my forehead with the palm of my hand, feigning surprise. “I forgot my backpack upstairs.”
She frowned and checked her watch. I knew she had a college class tonight. “I’m running late. Can I trust you not to get lost again?” I nodded. Lesley checked her watch again before pushing her way out the door. “Night!”
As soon as the latch clicked shut behind her, I hurried back up the stairs, picked up my backpack, then headed into the restroom. After picking a random stall, I sat, fully clothed, on the toilet to wait for the rest of the building to clear out. My mouth was dry and my insides jittery. I slid the earphones of my mp3 into my ears to help steady my nerves, but I kept pulling them out anytime I thought I heard a sound, afraid I was going to be discovered.
After a long, tense hour, someone came in and did a quick bathroom check. The light switched off and I let out a sigh of relief, uncurling myself from the toilet. So far, so good.
I waited for another twenty minutes before creeping out of my stall, and pressing my ear to the door to listen. Everything was silent. I pulled the door open slowly and cringed as the hinges made a faint squeak. The noise rebounded down the hallway, and I held my breath, waiting to see if anyone would hear it. After a few seconds I deemed it safe and poked my head out. It was empty. I crept into the completely dark hallway.
Everything seemed more sinister at night, with no one around, and every little sound made me jump: the tread of my steps, the hum of an air vent coming to life, the chirp of a smoke detector that needed new batteries. I made my way slowly, my steps getting a little faster as my eyes adjusted to the dark. My hand trailed along the wall for extra guidance until I reached the records room.
The doorknob turned without protest, and I quietly entered. The whole room smelled of musty, old paper. Pulling my keychain from my pocket, I silently thanked my dad for the tiny LED flashlight he had given me as a stocking stuffer. A few boxes sat scattered around the room, waiting to be broken down and hauled off to the recycling bin. I snuck toward the long row of filing cabinets on the far wall.
I opened the drawer marked L-N and ruffled through the file cabinet, looking for Phil’s Lawson’s file. He’d been the last victim of the Pendrell curse. My fingers were trembling as I pulled the file out and held my key-chain light up to examine it, comparing it with the notes I had made. A single piece of paper rested inside.
“That’s weird,” I muttered to myself. I had expected his file to be much thicker.
Shining my flashlight onto the paper, I held my breath and read:
Miss Silva,
You won’t find the answers you need without our help. We’re here when you’re ready.
Only we know how to help you.
The note wasn’t signed. Instead, it was stamped with an emblem depicting a fist clenching a key, the same insignia on the rings I had seen when I met with the Clutch. I grasped the paper tightly, bunching it under my fingers.
I shoved the paper back inside and shoved the drawer closed. I reached for the file of Brent’s brother, Neal, next—then Henry and Denny and every other victim of the “curse.” Every one of them had the same note. The records, specifically the medical records I had been hoping to find, had all been removed.
I slammed the last filing cabinet shut, my anger flaring so strongly that my hands shook and my face flushed. I had been so close. So close! I let out an angry string of Portuguese curse words that would have delighted my grandfather.
I moved into the hallway where the muted thudding of approaching footsteps reverberated down the corridor and stopped me dead in my tracks. Instantly regretting my impulsive slamming of the drawer, I took a few steps towards the exit. The footsteps picked up again and I flattened myself against the wall. I could see the sweep of a flashlight beam shining down the corridor, heading straight towards me.
I fled the opposite way, into the dark, listening for footsteps and trying to avoid them. I ran down one hallway, then another, darting around the building until I was completely lost. I paused to listen, straining to hear my pursuer’s steps over the sound of my own ragged breathing. Hearing nothing, I leaned against the wall, still panting.
Something moved at the edge of my vision and I spun toward it, hands up in defense, then let out a half-strangled cry of relief to see only my own scared reflection shining back at me. My frantic escape had taken me to the same mirrored hallway I had passed on my way to meet the clutch. I slumped back against the mirror, willing my racing heartbeat to steady.
Then the remembrance of what that meant washed over me in a jasmine scented tidal wave.
I attempted to push off the wall but Sophia’s icy fingers gripped onto my shoulders and slammed me back against the cold mirror. My skull cracked against the glass so hard my teeth rattled and my vision blurred. A scream ripped from my throat as fragments of the broken mirror cut into my scalp. I struggled against her firm fingers, trying to break free, but every time I moved from the mirror she pulled me back, again and again as if she could drag me into her crystal prison. Black dots popped in front of my eyes and exploded like kernels of popcorn.
My fingers and toes started to tingle, as raw fear clawed its way
out of me in a scream. Above me, water began raining down as the emergency sprinklers kicked on with a grinding hiss.
With a sudden burst of strength, I jerked myself away from Sophia’s wet grasp and collapsed to my knees. I spun around and glared at her through the strands of my wet hair. She drifted further back in the mirror at the fierceness of my scowl. The cracks and divots in the broken glass warped her image, while thick, red streaks splattered and dripped down the shattered mirror.
The sprinklers continued to pour down. In the distance I could hear voices and footsteps. The sweep of a flashlight bobbed from somewhere far away.
I knelt there, drenched and freezing as a warm liquid dripped between my shoulder blades. Blood, I realized. My neck didn’t seem capable of supporting my throbbing head. It kept flopping forward, and each time my mind seemed to reset, as if I kept falling unconscious for microseconds at a time. My gore rose and I swallowed and gagged on its bitterness.
The world tilted and spun, as if I were in a carnival ride, the kind that spins so fast you stick to the wall. The contents of my lunch heaved out of my mouth and I vomited all over the floor. The sickly, sour smell of it made my already sensitive stomach heave painfully again, and more liquid splashed onto the floor.
The footsteps drew nearer. I tried to stand but my knees gave out and I crashed to the floor. I lay on my stomach, the room still swirling, black spots dancing before my eyes. My head was too heavy to lift and my stomach threatened to heave again. I rested my cheek on the shard-littered floor, a piece slicing through my skin. The steady tinkling of water hitting glass played around me, tempting me to sleep with its soothing lullaby.
One clear thought wormed its way into my brain: I need help. I knew I couldn’t drag myself out of the building in time to get away from whoever was coming. If I couldn’t get my body out, maybe I could project and find help. Brent wouldn’t be able to help; he was still in the hospital, and in spirit form I couldn’t cross the magical barrier surrounding the school. I cursed at my ancestor who had created it. Who else could help? My clumsy brain took longer to puzzle out the problem than normal, but finally it hit upon the answer. DJ.
Usually projecting was easy, effortless. But now, with my body so badly beaten, I was having a hard time concentrating enough to make the separation.
“Come on, Yara,” I growled to myself, my breath visible in the cold, ghost-filled hallway, “you have to do this.”
I forced myself to focus on freeing my spirit. It had never been so physically painful before. Distantly I heard myself letting out a moan of pain as my spirit pulled loose, but as soon as I did the pain stopped and I could think again.
The contrast was so sharp and abrupt that I flung my arms out to my sides to help my balance as my senses readjusted.
Everything had frozen around me just as it always did, including the thousands of water droplets from the sprinklers. The entire room seemed decorated with suspended diamonds. It was absolutely beautiful. Behind them, Sophia panted heavily, her fingers reaching out, trying to escape. Her image fluttered once before vanishing like a puff of smoke.
My eyes dropped downward and took in the sorry state of my body. Blood and vomit covered me, and my limbs stretched out in an unnatural position, like a carelessly dropped rag doll. It was eerily reminiscent of standing over my drowned corpse last year.
I needed help and I needed it fast. I ran through the building, careful to avoid the janitors and security guards I found frozen in the halls. Once outside, I realized I had no idea where to go. DJ was a mystery to me. Where would he be? What dorm was he in? How was I supposed to get hold of him?
I wrung my hands together and in desperation, I called out his name. “DJ!”
“Yara?” He materialized out of the tree line. I ran to him and threw myself into his arms, which encircled me with his earthy scent.
“I was looking for you.”
“I felt the time pause and thought the Clutch were meeting. So I headed down here. But it was you?” He frowned, taking in the sad state of my spirit body, which reflected the grime-covered state of my physical one. He gaped openly at me and wrinkled his nose at the smell. “Is that blood? What happened?”
“I need help.”
“Yeah, that much I figured out for myself.”
“I’m in there,” I motioned toward the Alumni House. “I’m in the mirrored hallway.”
His gaze flicked toward the building. “What do you need me to do?”
“I’m too weak and hurt to move. I need your help to get out of the building before campus security finds me. Get me back to my room; Cherie can patch me up from there.”
“I can do that. I’m not like Brent. I’ll need my body to help. The closest exit is. . .” he trailed off and his eyes rolled back slightly as he began mapping the Alumni House in his head. “Got it.” He gave me an appraising look. “Ready to reconnect?”
“Not really,” I mumbled, remembering how much pain I had been in. “I’ll go on three.”
“One,” DJ counted.
“Two,” I took over. I paused and took a delicious pain free breath. “Three.”
My spirit snapped back into my body like an elastic band. My head felt like a wrecking ball had taken a few whacks at it. My drenched clothes stuck to me, a heavy and cold second skin. I gripped the fibers of the blood soaked carpet and gritted my teeth together to keep from screaming. The sprinklers drizzled down over me, mingling with my tears as I whimpered into the wet plush carpet.
Campus security was still sweeping the halls. I tried to push myself forward but I couldn’t move. I shivered, but I no longer felt cold.
I lay there helpless in the dark. I couldn’t tell how near or far the guards were from me. Time ceased to mean anything. My eyelids grew too heavy to stay open.
I must have passed out because suddenly wind flittered across my skin and goose pimples raised along my arms and legs. A warm body held me tight, and the smell of orange blossoms had replaced the stench of blood. I forced my eyes open. I was outside. The stars in the sky bounced around, leaving trails of light as they danced.
DJ had me cradled to his chest, his forehead wrinkled in concern. He jiggled me a bit. “Cupcake, you need to stay awake. You’re scaring me.”
I smiled weakly up at him from what felt like a long way away.
“Yara?” he said, worry infusing his words. “Yara, say something!”
“I think I’m going to be sick,” I croaked out. Then I promptly vomited on his shoes and passed out again.
Chapter Fourteen
My eyelids felt like they’d been super-glued shut as I struggled to open them. The world was too bright and I had to flutter them against the harshness of the light until they adjusted and I could open them fully.
I lay in the hospital, in a bed, surrounded by a blue curtain. I sat up and my stomach rolled. A bucket was thrust under my face just in time to catch the vomit that involuntarily erupted from my stomach.
I groaned in general distress.
“You look like crap, Cupcake,” DJ said by way of greeting. He was the one holding the bucket.
I started to flop back onto the bed but he took my shoulder with his free hand and helped me recline slowly. “You got about a dozen stitches on your scalp and you have a concussion. You need to be careful.” He set down the vomit bucket.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” He settled back into his chair. “You seem a lot more alert this time.”
“This time?”
“You’ve been conscious off and on since you got here.
“Oh.” I didn’t remember that at all.
“They let you in to see me?” My throat burned. “Water, please.”
DJ poured some water out of a plastic pitcher on the table beside my bed and handed it to me. “I told them I was your brother.”
“Thanks.” I knew I had a snappy comeback in me somewhere but I couldn’t think straight. I was saved from having to come up with one by the entrance of
my mom and Vovó, who rushed in, each claiming a hand. Mom had been crying. Her mascara was dribbling down her cheeks.
“You’re okay,” mom whispered, her complexion ashen.
“Yes, DJ found me.”
“Thank you for calling us, DJ.” Mom gave him an adoring look. “We are so glad you let us know she was here.”
“You called my mom?”
“I got the number out of your phone. I know you wanted me to leave you in Cherie’s care but I couldn’t do that. I was too worried.” He stood. “Cherie doesn’t even know yet. I brought you straight here.”
“Thank you for taking care of her.” Mom reached out her free hand and patted him on the shoulder in a maternal way.
His chest puffed out. I was grateful for his help but I felt the need to make my mom aware he wasn’t some knight on a white horse. “You’ve met him before, Mom. Remember Doogie, from elementary school?”
Her face went blank. I could almost see her trying to place the familiar name. Suddenly she smiled. “You were Yara’s first boyfriend, her first crush.” She gave him an indulgent smile and then her look darkened; her indulgent smile vanished. “You’re the one who threw the rock at her.”
Her expression appeared torn, like she couldn’t decide if her gratitude for his help today outweighed the tears he caused years ago. Finally she gave him a smile, though not as bright as it had been moments before. “Well, that was a long time ago. We’re indebted to you. Thank you.”
Vovó glared at him.
DJ rocked back on his heels. “I am very sorry about that. I already apologized to Yara. I’d like to do the same to you. I’m sorry.” He swung his eyes to Vovó. “I’m sorry for ever doubting you or your granddaughter’s abilities. She is amazing.”
Vovó’s glare evaporated. A proud smile replaced it. “She is. You are wise to see it. Thank you for your help.”
Wow. He really played to the judges when he decided to be charming. My opinion of him might have increased at the way he had worked Vovó.
“I’m glad I could help.” His cheeks turned pink. “I’d better go.” He gave me one last smile before he left.