inevitablepub

  “Does he do that a lot?” Kalina asked.

  I glanced at her to say no, but my eyes caught on the scroll in her hand. When I reached out for it, she pulled it away.

  “You won’t be able to keep it. They’ll notice if it’s missing, but you can read it before I return it.”

  “That’s enough.”

  Hope rose in my chest with the force of a tsunami. Deciding to go behind the council’s back couldn’t have been easy for Kalina. She’d basically committed treason. Even if the scroll didn’t help Brent, it meant a lot that she’d tried. Hopefully it would finally calm the storm of terror that constantly raged in the back of my mind over Brent’s health.

  “I don’t know why you’ve done this, but I’m grateful.”

  “I wanted to make up for the way we met. Threatening you wasn’t the best way to go. This, well . . .” She ran one of her hands up and down the paper. “It’s my way of showing you we aren’t like the Clutch. Not all of us.”

  She held it out to me and my shaking hand stretched to take it. My finger brushed hers as we transferred it from her grip to mine. Before she could let go, two hands appeared out of thin air and grabbed us, one encircling my fist, the other holding Kalina’s.

  We both cried out and tried to jerk free, but the grip tightened. The fingers were unforgiving, squeezing tight. My eyes followed the hand holding me, up the arms to a familiar face.

  “DJ? What are you doing?”

  He didn’t say anything as he stepped forward, dragging us with him. His green eyes looked wrong, like they had before he vanished. They were glazed over, the color flickering from emerald to lime green. Like Grady’s eyes.

  “He’s being compelled!” I dug my feet into the carpet, pulling against DJ’s forward momentum. My gaze found Kalina’s, her eyes wide with panic.

  A shiver of ice swept through me as one of the ghosts from Brazil appeared over her left shoulder. How did he get in here? Vovó had warded against them.

  “Behind you!” I shouted.

  Before she could react, he locked his arms around her. I tried to help, but DJ yanked me back, wrenching my arm, sending jolts of pain along my shoulder. Ghostly arms wrapped around me from behind, crushing me and lifting me off the ground. I grunted and thrashed, dangling in the air, trying to break free. The spirit squeezed harder, forcing the air from my lungs.

  My mind fumbled for ways to escape. Three ghosts, all compelled. How did we overcome this? I had to get through to them, their real selves, like I would with any other ghost. “DJ, it’s Yara. I was the first girl you kissed. You threw a rock at me—”

  The arms around me moved, one covering my mouth, cutting off my words, while the other restrained my free arm.

  DJ’s grip loosened and his eyes stopped shifting colors for an instant and flitted to mine. I saw him spark to life, but then it vanished and DJ slipped back behind the fog.

  I screamed against the ghostly fingers covering my lips, but it came out no more than a whimper. My head moved from side to side and my teeth searched for any place I could bite. I clamped down on a piece of ghostly flesh.

  The spirit howled, knocking his head against mine, dazing me. His fingers dug into the tender skin of my cheeks, squeezing them until tears overflowed my eyes and my jaw loosened, releasing my teeth from his hand.

  While the two ghosts fought to restrain us, DJ dragged us forward, his fingers sinking into the flesh, burning as they touched my spirit, until our hands were over the candle, the scroll close to the flame.

  No!

  I tried to command the wind to put out the candle, but fear surged through me, weakening my connection. Only a faint breeze tickled my face, wiping the tears across my cheeks.

  DJ’s hold made it impossible for me to drop the scroll. I tried forcing my fingers open, but it was like trying to break free from an iron glove; I couldn’t do it.

  I kicked, catching DJ in the knee. He snarled and elbowed me in the nose. Yellow light flashed in front of my eyes and my vision went blurry. I groaned as the pain hit and I tasted the salty, bitter warmth of the blood trickling from my nose.

  Kalina screamed, still struggling with her captor.

  We were both helpless, except I had one thing she didn’t, one thing that could put out the flame. My water ability.

  I sent my senses out and searched the house for moisture. The water called for me, close in the walls. The pipes! In my bathroom I connected with it, and urged it up through the pipes, pushing against the valves. The house creaked and rattled as the water pulsed to get free.

  DJ forced our arms down. I tried lifting away, but our hands inched nearer the flame.

  The heat warmed my skin, turning hot, then almost unbearable until the length of scroll between the gap in Kalina’s hand and mine caught fire. As it lit up, water poured into the sink. I called it to me, begging it to hurry. Even as it drew near, the middle of the scroll erupted into flames.

  “No!” Tears built behind my eyes and DJ tightened his grip. I convulsed in pain, watching as the fire spread, black smoke rising from the orange flames.

  The brittle paper burned quickly, curling up into ash. When the tongues of fire licked my fingers, I screamed, watching the scroll fold into itself, crumpling, the pain in my hand dwarfed by the destruction of my hope.

  Once the scroll had burnt to ash, DJ released us.

  Instantly, I sprang backwards and the ghost holding me stumbled, his arms loosening enough for me to lunge toward my nightstand. Hands groped at my ankles as I opened the top drawer and grabbed the powder stored there. I flung it at the one holding my feet, swung around and shoved it into the face of the one holding Kalina. They both vanished, whimpering in pain. The water I’d summoned flooded into the room and drenched the flames.

  Too late.

  Kalina and I fell to the floor, panting for air.

  “Yara?” DJ asked.

  I pivoted, a fistful of powder ready.

  DJ flinched, holding up his hands. “What . . . what happened?”

  He looked completely bewildered. The flickering in his eyes had ceased, probably because he’d accomplished his task. DJ had burned my only lead about Brent’s illness.

  My hand jerked forward to cover him in the powder, but I stopped myself, seeing the hurt in his eyes. With a growl I scrambled to the candle, tilting it towards me and grabbing the scroll. Water that had been caught in the candle’s glass container sloshed over my hand. I choked back a sob as the pressure from my fingers reduced the scroll to flecks of wet ash, black and unreadable that stuck to my skin.

  I wiped the useless pieces from my hand and glared at DJ. Knowing he’d been compelled didn’t lessen the accusation in my voice.

  “Why?” I demanded. My whole body trembled and my eyes narrowed at him.

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “Yara. I’m . . .”

  I turned my back to him. He didn’t finish his sentence and I didn’t care. Nothing he said would bring back the scroll.

  Even though it had been against his will, I blamed him. He’d screwed us over. Again. Someone I’d trusted had destroyed our best lead for Brent’s cure. DJ had in effect become an accessory in Brent’s death. I’d seen the struggle inside him, trying to fight the order, but it didn’t dampen the feeling of betrayal.

  Could I ever trust DJ again? Did I want to?

  Kalina’s gentle hand on my shoulder startled me. “He left.”

  My eyes darted around to find him gone; just like the scroll. Pieces of it still clung to my jeans. My nightstand was drenched from the downpour, the carpet squished beneath my feet. I picked up the candle and hurled it at the wall. My lamp went next. The sound of crashing glass didn’t soothe my anger. My fingers closed around a vase, but Kalina slipped it from my grasp.

  “It won’t bring it back,” Kalina said.

  With nothing to throw, I didn’t know what to do. A sound tunneled up from inside me, an agonized moan of pain I could never express in words.

  Had it all b
een for nothing? Would Brent die because of what had happened here? Because of DJ?

  I’d failed Brent.

  I couldn’t breathe, as if the shattered pieces of my heart had punctured my lungs. My head felt heavy and my legs gave out. I dropped onto my bed, leaning forward so my chest rested against my thighs.

  Kalina sat beside me cradling her hand against her body. “I’ve never had that happen before. It hurt like a brat.”

  Her words slowly filtered through my thoughts. “Like a brat?”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Um, yeah. My mother was . . . is really big on the whole not swearing thing. I have a lot of those expressions.”

  “Well, you’re right. It hurt like a brat.”

  In every possible way. It went deeper than the bruises already darkening my skin. It lay in the portions of me no one could ever see.

  Numb, I stood and walked to my dresser. “I have some lotion. It’s a salve, really.” How I could talk to her like this while my insides were bleeding from grief was beyond me. I studied the DJ sized finger burn on my hand. I never thought I’d have marks like this from him. “It really helps.”

  “Had experience with this?”

  A humorless laugh escaped my lips. “More than you probably want to know.”

  I led her to my bathroom, still unsteady on my feet. The familiar itchy feeling that I’d been experiencing lately traveled across my arms and down my legs. I shook out my hands, grimacing when I moved my wrist.

  Water still gushed from the faucet. In my effort to bring the water to me, I must have forced the handles to turn. I twisted them off. Mixed in with my Bath and Body Works lotions was the one I needed.

  I squirted some on her arm as well as my own, and wetted some tissues to wash the blood off my face. My cheeks bore pink, finger-shaped marks from where the ghost had covered my mouth. They felt raw, but I didn’t think they would bruise. The burns on my hand throbbed. I dabbed them with lavender oil, which immediately cooled them. Kalina dripped some on her hands as well.

  She sighed as the lotion and oil started to work their magic. “So much better.”

  If only it could ease the pain of losing the scroll so easily. I collapsed on the edge of the tub. “Please tell me you read the scroll.”

  “No.” She leaned heavily against the counter. “I’m sorry.”

  “Of course not. Why would you take the time to read the priceless Waker artifact you stole?”

  “I didn’t expect your friend to show up and destroy it!” She pushed off of the sink. “He turned traitor.”

  She hovered over me but I didn’t budge, just clenched my hands on my lap. “He was being compelled!”

  She blinked at me before slithering back, giving me some breathing room.

  “By Crosby, who is always one step ahead of us,” she said in a calm voice. “He’s the one to blame. We can’t turn on each other.”

  She was right. I couldn’t blame DJ, not really. And it wasn’t Kalina’s fault; she’d been trying to help. So much rage boiled inside me that I had to do something. I kicked my heel against the tub and then grunted in pain, physical and emotional.

  “Today didn’t go the way I planned.” She pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. “They’ll know for sure the scroll is missing.”

  I gently massaged my aching foot. She’d taken a risk, gone against the council to help, only for it to turn into this. “Are you going to get in trouble?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing does anymore.” She studied her injured hand, looking lost, broken. “He was your friend, wasn’t he? The ghost who did this.”

  “He was.” I sighed. “No, he still is. I know DJ was compelled to do that. I could see the fight in his eyes as he burned it.”

  I hung my head. “What’s the good of knowing what to do if I can’t actually do any of it? I have the powder to banish the ghosts, but they pin my arms down before I can use it. And I know how to get through to the compelled ghosts, but not when my mouth is covered. This is so frustrating!”

  “At least you kept your head. I panicked. I’ve never been attacked by a ghost before. I so wasn’t ready for it.” She straightened the blue and white striped hand towel beside her. “You know you can’t trust DJ now, right?”

  “I do.” My fingers played with the edge of the blue shower curtain. “Actually, I never fully trusted him when he was alive either.”

  “Well, he is the reason Crosby has the journals.”

  “How did you know about . . . never mind; the visions, right?”

  “Yep. But sometimes I rely on them too much and I get blindsided, like I did today. I never saw DJ coming.” Kalina shuddered and held her injured wrist tighter to her chest. “Did he die recently?”

  “Yeah. After Crosby killed his sister, DJ went back for revenge and got himself killed.”

  Kalina bit her lip. “And now the poor sap is being forced to work with him.”

  “Apparently. I didn’t know that until today. I don’t think he did either.”

  “Crosby is so messed up. I bet he loved making DJ betray you. Nothing burns like a knife in the back from a friend.”

  “But how did he know you were going to bring me the scroll?”

  “We’re pretty sure he has a Waker working for him. She might be a seer. More likely he gave DJ the order to destroy it if he ever saw it. DJ did disappear right when I mentioned the scroll, maybe to give a report?”

  “Probably.”

  “Too bad I didn’t see that in a vision.” Kalina wiped her hands on her jeans. “I better go.”

  I sat quietly, trying to stop myself from asking, but when she reached my bedroom door I jumped to my feet and called out Kalina’s name.

  “Can I ask you something about your visions?” I asked softly.

  Her hand rested on the doorknob. “Are you sure you want to know?”

  “You already know what I want to ask?”

  She faced me, the corners of her mouth turned down. “You want to know what I’ve seen about Brent.”

  I nodded, and held my breath waiting. I wanted to know. Didn’t I?

  She leaned back against the door. “I’ve seen him dying and walking into the light.”

  “But you’re wrong sometimes. You said they catch you off guard. You’ve seen people die and then they survive, right?”

  “I have. Sometimes I see other possibilities, alternate paths where different choices can lead, but I’m never wrong.”

  My breath caught on the optimism brewing in my chest. “Brent’s alternate routes? How do they end?”

  She dropped her gaze, staring at her shoes. Her silence, her hunched shoulders spoke the words her mouth didn’t.

  My hope disappeared like a mirage. “There has to be something we can do.”

  She looked up and met my eyes, hers sad and brutally honest. “Nothing changes it. In every scenario I’ve seen, Brent dies and goes into the light.”

  Chapter 8

  I huddled on my window seat, lost in a fog of dark thoughts so thick nothing could penetrate it. The image of Brent walking into the light looped in my head until I thought I might be sick.

  I grabbed one of my old teddy bears and hugged it to me while I stared out the window. It had started to rain and I watched the water lines as they trailed down the glass. My breath fogged the glass and I barely recognized the sullen girl reflected back at me.

  When my cell phone buzzed in my pocket, my muscles felt cramped and sore from holding the same position for so long. I missed the call but the new message jingle chirped. I pushed 1 and listened.

  Cherie’s chipper voice brought me back a little.

  “Hey, Yara! Sorry if I scared you. You’re probably wondering what happened to me after I left your room. Crosby didn’t get to me; Steve did.” She squealed. “I have so much to tell you. I’ll see you and Brent tonight at dinner. We’re still meeting at Wood Ranch at six, right? Oh, and I want to know what happened with Kalina, too. See you soon!”

  I’d been
so consumed with the loss of the scroll I hadn’t even noticed Cherie’s disappearance. I deleted the message and checked the time. It was a little after five, just enough time to get ready for our double date.

  I’d meant to tell Vovó about the attack, but instead allowed my worry to consume me. Now there wasn’t time. I'd have to tell her after dinner.

  Kalina’s words had depressed me and brought every fear I had out into the open. She said Brent was going to die. I knew I’d been harboring the same worries since graduation, but now when confronted with them I couldn’t handle it.

  Only one thing kept me from sinking into a debilitating depression: Kevin’s message that a cure existed.

  I didn’t doubt what Kalina had seen, but there were things that caught her by surprise. Maybe Kevin’s nudge was a curve she hadn’t factored in. Kevin wouldn’t have lied.

  It came down to accepting Kalina’s pronouncement or clinging to the thread of hope my brother had given me. If I had to choose, I would choose hope.

  Before I left, I spent extra time on my appearance, adding more color to my eyes than normal and putting on a black sundress I’d just bought and applying a lot of anti-frizz product to my hair to counteract what the whacked out spirit world was doing to it.

  I noticed that the handprint across my mouth had faded enough that my foundation covered it completely. My neck was a mess of yellow and blue bruises, older marks left from the attack in Brazil and Grady’s newer ones. I draped a scarf around my neck to hide the worst of it. DJ’s imprint on my wrist and hand I partially concealed with a selection of bracelets, though they scraped against the tender skin.

  The doorbell rang. I grabbed my purse and headed toward the door.

  “I let myself in,” Brent called. He whistled at me when I walked down the stairs. “You look gorgeous.”

  He gave me a quick peck when I stepped into the foyer. I slipped my hands around his waist and pulled him closer for a lingering kiss. He pressed himself against me and guided us back a few steps until I was resting against the wall. His lips left my mouth and he trailed kisses down my neck and then back up, nibbling around the scarf. His moist breath tickled my ear.