Indelible

  He didn’t talk, but his eyes spoke volumes of things I didn’t ask, and didn’t want to know, of loathing, evil and anger. He opened his mouth and let out a puff of air, drenching the backyard in the reek of chlorine. Gone were the comforting scents of the candles and flowers. All I could smell was his chemical stench. I broke into a cold sweat. The sliding glass door was the only thing that kept me standing. Images of my drowning raced through my mind in an endless loop. My stomach rolled and I tried to swallow down my fear. I forced myself to hold his gaze.

  “How did you learn you could take over Henry’s body?” My voice was a whisper.

  He ignored me as he stalked the edges of the protective ring my grandma had made.

  “You will answer her question.” The steel in my grandma’s voice surprised me, penetrating to the marrow of my bones.

  “No.” Thomas’s nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed.

  His face turned red, his lips started to part, his bony hand reached up to press his mouth closed.

  “Put your hand down.”

  He hissed at Vovó as his hand dropped to his side.

  “Speak.”

  His whole body shook and his eyes rolled back. “I had been searching for a way to prevent my death. An old book I found at school told me how. The rest of the Clutch had been. . .” his head thrashed from side to side. “Researching how to . . . ” he howled, the words being ripped from his throat. “to control others, and to make them . . . obey. I combined what I had learned with what they knew.” He gasped. “I convinced them to command Henry to . . . to kill himself. I volunteered to make sure it worked.” His body trembled. “It did. But they . . . didn’t know it. They thought it failed. They thought he had lived, but it was me.” His balled fists shook. “I had outsmarted them and found a way to live. And I kept the true recipe for the power . . . for myself.”

  He bent over, panting.

  “That’s not what you said last year.” I wiped my hands on my jeans and moved closer to him. “You only said you wanted to live!”

  “You honestly thought I told you the truth?” He sneered up at me.

  I had believed him. I’d felt moments of pity for him.

  “So trusting. I killed you and yet you believed me.” He laughed, a frightening sound. “I played your sympathy like a fiddle.”

  It had worked. Anger slashed through me, but I wasn’t sure if I was mad at his deception or my own naiveté.

  I didn’t care about his friends’ stupid quest for world domination. I wanted to find out how to help Brent. “Did any of the bodies you stole . . . did any of them have side-effects or carry-over’s from the other spirits?”

  Thomas chuckled and it felt like battery acid to my soul. “Oh, yes. I would guess Brent is feeling not completely himself. Having strange cravings, unusual illnesses.”

  “How did you know?” I almost leapt toward him, but Vovó held me back. He snarled at her.

  He raised an eyebrow. “You really think I was the first person to have done what I did? I learned about it in a book, remember? You think Brent was the first to suffer the consequences?” He curled his fingers and examined his claw-like nails. “I know how to help.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He gave me a wolfish grin. “I can save him.”

  “I think if we banish you, he’ll be cured,” Vovó said, opening a book she had resting on a table.

  “Then you’d be wrong. Without me, Brent won’t make it.” The wrinkles on his face lifted. “Without my help, you’re going to fail and Brent will die.”

  And something inside me tore loose. A desperate thought burned in my head, its flames fanned by my panic. What if he were telling the truth? The thing that scared me the most was the thought that I might give up a chance to save Brent, and let him down. Again. I reigned in my fear and slammed the brakes on that train of thought. I knew better than this. I wouldn’t let my fear force me into a stupid choice. I knew better than to trust him. And yet I was tempted, so I looked away.

  “Enough of this.” Vovó said and his mouth snapped shut. “You’ve said something that interests me. Tell me, how did they control people?”

  “The drugs.” He glared at her. “You need the right amount in your system.”

  “Tell me more.”

  “Christopher always lamented to me how disappointed he was in his sons. But they were brilliant. The Pendrell sons knew how to exploit the pankurem plant, to use it as a weapon. But the recipe died with them because they wouldn’t share their secrets. The other members tried to recreate it. Year after year, the research continued, until we rediscovered it. But no one else knew it had worked. Only I did.”

  “Lamented to you?” My voice was firmer. “Christopher died decades before you ever went to Pendrell.”

  “This from a woman who can see ghosts?”

  “You’ve seen his ghost?” I asked. I’d never seen Christopher’s ghost or even heard of him haunting anywhere.

  “Yes and he was a drag. In life he tried to hold his sons back, in death he tried to stop us, those who shared their vision. He stole something from his sons and hid it from them. He thought it would end there, but it was bigger than even his sons. They may have been the first inspired by the dream, but they weren’t the last.”

  He spoke like a fanatic, his green eyes shining with passion.

  “In my day, the clutch continued the search for what had been lost. Christopher’s ghost haunted us. Whenever we left our bodies he would come to us. He wanted to hold us back too, the keep us from achieving the greatness he would never be able to accomplish. He lied about how it had ruined his sons.”

  “Maybe he was telling the truth,” I couldn’t help but point out. “His sons were murderers.”

  “No! We knew better than to believe his lies. He even tried to scare us off, but playing with the wiring was all he could manage. As if those childish games could scare us away from what we all wanted. That power, that control.”

  “Maybe he was trying to help.”

  “I should have known a simpleton like you would fall for the rubbish he spouted.”

  “This simpleton defeated you last year.”

  He had been walking but at my words he stilled. The night was quiet except for the sound of his cracking knuckles. He faced me, his nostrils flaring, his green eyes burning with malice. The salt in my hand stuck to my suddenly sticky palm.

  “Yes, you did, but if you think this—” he poked the translucent smoke wall, “will protect you from me, you’re wrong. With the drug in my system and your spirit under my control, I will be unstoppable.”

  He licked his lips. “I’ll teach you just like I taught Christopher. It will be fun to break you.”

  His eyes looked delighted by the ways he could imagine hurting me and I was unable to hold back a whimper. I cowered back into Vovó. She moved beside me and blew a handful of something that glittered in the candlelight. When it touched the smoke ring, Thomas screamed and his body jerked.

  He turned to Vovó. “I will enjoy hurting Yara. I will spend the time on her I should have spent on Christopher. If I had been slow with him he would have learned the error of his ways. He would have begged to return to me what he had stolen.”

  “What did he steal?” Vovó asked.

  “I’m not going to tell you. You’ll try to steal it from me. You won’t get it!”

  “What did he steal?” Vovó asked. This time the power, the demand in her voice rolled over me and Thomas was forced to answer.

  Thomas choked, his face flushing before he said. “Something that wasn’t his!”

  He took a deep, calming breath and a satisfied grin spread across his face. “When I succeeded, he tried to stop me. He had been jealous of his sons and he was jealous of me. He wanted the Clutch out of the way so he could be the only one with the power. But I destroyed him and that group so I alone would know the secrets they had discovered.”

  “Who cares?” I took my hand out of pocket and gestured at hi
m. “What good is your precious power when you were trapped at a prep school? And now you’re trapped here.”

  “I knew one day I would leave Pendrell. And now I have.” He bowed. He acted like all of this was part of his master plan. “I will find a way to escape and when I do, I will come for you.”

  His threat made my heart stop for a moment before beating so hard my ribs hurt. I couldn’t understand him. “But why was that so important when you had found a way to cheat death?”

  “It wasn’t enough to live. I want that power.” He paced around the circle, speaking with his hands in constant motion. “You’ve never tasted real power or seen its greatness in action. I’d only read about it but I could imagine it pumping through my veins. I knew the Clutch’s recipe worked; I saw how Henry lost his own will and obeyed ours. Christopher had stolen it for himself but in the end it didn’t matter, we found it on our own. Well, I did. The rest of my group never knew we had succeeded. After I had the true recipe, the key to the power, I destroyed the Clutch so no one but me knew it existed. And once I’m free I’ll figure out how to alter the recipe. I won’t need counterbalances like the rest of them, I will be strong enough to use it alone.”

  Alone? Counterbalances? I didn’t know what that meant but I knew of one bubble I could burst. “You didn’t stop the Clutch.” I took great pleasure in delivering this news. “They’re still alive and well.”

  “What?” His smug expression turned hostile. “No! I destroyed them.”

  “Enough!” Vovó said. She stepped in front of me with her arms crossed. “So this drug. It was the most important thing in your life. The thing that in the end mattered most. All you have done has been to keep its secret for yourself so you alone can wield its great and terrible power?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then tell me what the recipe is.”

  “No.” He ground his teeth together loud enough for me to hear it. “How are you doing this?”

  “I am the Matriarca.”

  “Don’t do this.” His hands went to his hair pulling it. “Why do you care?”

  “Because you tried to steal one of the treasures from my life and I believe in justice. Tell me the recipe. Now.”

  Vovó stood tall, proud and ruthless. I had never seen her like this. When she was with ghosts she was usually so kind. Gone was my grandmother full of love, and in her place stood a warrior exacting retribution. In that moment I didn’t know her. She wielded a power more swift and powerful than any Thomas could hope to have. It oozed from her aura; I could feel it. I was almost afraid if I reached out and touched her, it would shock me.

  “No!” Thomas screamed. “I won’t let you steal it from me!”

  Power shot out from her in such intensity that it knocked me to my butt and Thomas flew against the other side of the bubble. He bounced off it and landed on his feet.

  “Tell me!”

  “No!” He took a step toward her.

  Vovó stretched out her hand toward him and I swore for a minute she almost had a spark of green fly from her fingertips.

  Thomas took another step, then something hit him in the chest. Was it green? His whole body stood rigid, his arms, legs, fighting the compulsion to answer Vovó’s questions. His jaw smacked shut then sprang open with a pop. He groaned, holding a hand to his cheek. His eyes rolled back, his entire body shook, and spirit fluid began dribbling from his nose. Watching him made me queasy. It was one of the most awful things I’d ever seen.

  Finally he sagged to the ground. “The recipe is . . . No!” His fingers went to his throat clawing at it, scratching, drawing more spirit fluid but still he spouted off a list of ingredients. Most of them I hadn’t heard of, but Vovó nodded.

  He dropped his head to the ground, with nothing left to give, a truly broken figure, stripped of that which he held most dear. He sobbed. Despite everything he’d done, it was painful to witness.

  Vovó began to sing in a soothing voice and the candles flickered; she circled around him, sprinkling her concoction of herbs behind her as she walked. Thomas’s image shuddered.

  The light from the moon faded, the night chill grew more intense, a wailing sound vibrated in the air. Shadows moved, from the earth, from the sky, converging like moths around Thomas’s circle. His face was pressed against the dirt. He pushed up to all fours, his head swinging around, seeing the shadows waiting to attack him. Terror and horror carved his face.

  His fear was so strong I could feel it. I could sense the horrible cold of the shadows as they waited to devour him. Sulfur tinged the air.

  “Please, don’t let them get me. Please!” His desperate voice rang in my ears. “I can tell you more.”

  “Goodbye, Thomas.”

  A gust of wind swept across the yard as Vovó’s words grew louder. I glanced up and stared in awe at my grandma.

  Vovó eyes were wide, her arms outstretched toward Thomas. Her hair danced in the breeze and she almost seemed to glow. She threw her head back and screamed a word I couldn’t make out. With that, all the candles flared up before blowing out. The shadows enveloped Thomas.

  Vovó touched my shoulder. “Look away.”

  I closed my eyes and plugged my ears with my fingers, but I couldn’t block out the loud sounds of shredding, ripping, tearing and breaking. Sounds of utter destruction. I couldn’t see it, but the sounds and my imagination made up their own visuals. Above all the wet, juicy sounds came a familiar scream.

  I dropped to my bottom, bringing my knees to my chest and rested my eyes on my knees. It felt like there was nothing but evil in the world, no goodness. I tried to block it out but I couldn’t. It pressed in from all around me. And finally it was over, but still I rocked back and forth. I didn’t stop until a warm arm tightened around me. And with that arm came a sliver of warmth in the chill that had invaded my soul.

  “You were right. That was awful.”

  “It’s is a huge responsibility, Querida, to decide which spirits need banishing. What waits for them is more horrible than anything you can imagine. It is only to be used for the truly evil.”

  I looked at my grandma, who had tears in her eyes. She didn’t say anything, just nodded. I stared at the flowering herbs, not seeing them.

  I sat there unable to move while my grandma cleaned up around me. My eyes remained closed, but I heard her sweeping, and singing, and spreading hew herbs, which sifted gently to the ground. New smells filled air, aromas of lightness, love, and peace. She both cleaned the physical space and cleansed the spiritual. Soon, the feeling of peace was restored, as if Thomas had never been there.

  I opened my eyes and raised my head to look at her.

  She had restored her hair to its normal neat bun at the base of her neck, looking like my sweet and loving grandma again. I had to know the truth about my lingering doubts.

  “Was he telling the truth about being able to save Brent?”

  She sat down beside me. “He thought he was.”

  She wrapped her arm around my shoulders and guided my head to rest on her chest. I smelled her comforting orchid scent. Her goodness washed over me like a healing balm, removing all the darkness that had remained.

  “But his idea of being saved is not what you would want for Brent. Thomas was a liar and good at making you believe him. He was evil, Yara. One with a twisted mind, unable to speak the truth.” She rubbed her hand up and down my arm.

  “I know.” I took a shaky breath. “The recipe you made him tell you. Do you think it can help Brent?”

  “No. The herbs he used would do nothing to help heal someone who was sick. It is what the Clutch used for their mind control.”

  “Then why did you want it?”

  “It is always good to know as much as you can about your enemies. And because I knew getting it from him would hurt him.” She paused and she lowered her voice. “I am not always kind.”

  We didn’t say anything else, but being in her arms reminded me of when I was young and she would hold me close after a nightmare, re
assuring me the monsters in my dream weren’t real.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I missed a week of school. My mom insisted on taking care of me. The healing I needed most was emotional, but the stitches and concussion made a good cover. Brent still hadn’t come back. He had been released from the hospital but was still recovering at home. His mother had ordered another forced R&R on him. His school assignments were being e-mailed to him and he worked with a tutor.

  I hoped that Vovo’s idea was right, that banishing Thomas would heal Brent, but I hadn’t seen him. I wanted to judge with my own eyes. On the phone he kept insisting he felt fine, better even, but I wasn’t sure that I trusted that assessment. If he were better, wouldn’t he be back in school? I kept trying to tell myself that it was working, that it would just take time, but a part of me feared that the banishing hadn’t affected him at all.

  Two weeks later, while his parents were gone on a Saturday, Steve managed to smuggle Brent out of the house so we could all have lunch together. Cherie and I were waiting for them at Miguel’s Jr. I spotted them through the glass doors and ran into the parking lot to hug him, but stumbled off the sidewalk at his appearance.

  I stretched out my twisted ankle, staring at Brent. He looked bad, like the after photo in a scared-straight, before-and-after-drugs picture. His usually tanned skin was now closer to a pasty yellow, and his hair, which was usually so artfully disarrayed, looked plain messy. Dark circles surrounded his eyes and his cheekbones stood out from all the weight he’d lost. He moved slowly, like an old man with a walker.

  He smiled at me, and I hoped my wide grin hid my horror over his altered state. Instead of throwing my arms around him in a bone-crushing hug, I took his hand gently, holding it like I would the world’s most expensive china.

  “Brent? How are you feeling?”

  “Horrible.”

  Okay, that had been a stupid question on my part, but at least he hadn’t lied to me. I put my arm around him to help steady him as we continued toward the restaurant.

  “Has your grandmother found out anything?” Brent stopped at the door, resting on the handle.