Casters Series Box Set Page 42

  “Are you talking about the Hellers?”

  Alex turned to Kassidy, who’d left off chewing on her ragged nails long enough to ask the question.

  Maryanne’s hand reached over to Alex’s arm, but she stopped before she squeezed it. Brooke wet her lips, and she too, waited.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes, Kassidy,” Mrs. Betts said. “I am.”

  Kassidy’s eyes moistened instantly. “I told you I saw one just outside the house. Why don’t you—”

  “I do believe you saw something, Kassidy. That’s why I called this meeting.”

  Alex felt as though someone had just punched her in the stomach. Kassidy had seen them—well, at least one of the three: Brooke, Maryanne, or her—darkening the sky. Alex could have kicked her own ass. It was inevitable that they’d be seen. They hadn’t been as careful as they could have been since they’d come back from Christmas. Going out before midnight—but that had been for Maryanne’s safety! But flying against the snow, their black forms so clearly visible… Before them, Connie had holed up in a cave over the winter months to avoid being seen. Not an option for them, but dammit, they should have been more careful.

  Kassidy’s bottom lip quivered. She looked ready to cry with relief that someone believed her.

  The house mother went on, “It’s not just you, Kassidy. There have been reports—or rumors, I should say—since last Halloween. Even the police are getting calls now. Isn’t that right, Mr. Hollis?” She looked to George Hollis for confirmation.

  The serious-looking man nodded. “A few reports, my sources tell me,” he said. “As you might imagine, most people wouldn’t report such a sighting to the police for fear of losing credibility. But the Mansbridge Heller has been legendary in this town since before I came here.”

  “Ever seen one, Mr. Hollis?” This from Seraphina, a wide-eyed junior from Prince Edward Island.

  Hollis regarded his audience. Dressed for church, no doubt, he looked the picture of dignity and steely integrity as he surveyed the girls of Harvell House. Reject Row—that’s what everyone called it. Notorious for its troubled girls, many of whom had no place else to go. He looked at each of the girls in turn. When he finally spoke, he seemed to measure each word.

  “I was with the police in this town for thirty-five years. I came to Mansbridge thinking it would be a good place to work. A nice, small, quiet place to settle down. Well, I quickly learned that bad things happen in Mansbridge, just like anywhere else.”

  On those words, it was Alex’s turn to be marked with those old and sympathetic eyes. She swallowed a lump of emotion as his eyes moved on.

  “Have I seen the Mansbridge Heller, or Hellers, as they now say?” he asked. “No. But I have seen things that would make my hair turn…well, whiter.”

  There were a few polite laughs.

  “Yes,” George Hollis continued. “I’ve seen things in this town that I just cannot explain. Things beyond explanation. Hell—excuse me, ladies—beyond belief!” His gaze swept them again. “Why this town? I don’t rightly know. I do know we need to be careful. All of us.” Alex waited as he paused. “But we don’t need to be foolish. Careful doesn’t mean panic.” He gave a nod to Mrs. Betts, her cue to take the floor again.

  “Yes, girls,” she said. “And that’s why I called this early morning meeting when I knew you’d all be home. We’re not going to panic, we’re—”

  “I saw the Heller on YouTube!” Seraphina suddenly said.

  What the hell?

  Alex looked at Brooke, then Maryanne. Both shared her surprise on this one. And her panic.

  “That stupid YouTube video?” one of the other girls piped up. “You’ve been punk’d! That wasn’t a Heller. That was some guy dressed up in a diving suit.”

  “Yeah, I heard it was Ty Piper and his whacked out new girlfriend,” someone else added.

  “No, it wasn’t!” Kassidy’s hands fisted in her lap. “Okay, so the image is grainy, and the clip is only about five seconds, but I’m telling you guys—”

  “Nah, it’s a hoax,” one of the seniors said.

  “Yes, it was a hoax,” John Smith spoke up. “I’m sure of it.”

  Everyone faced forward to gawk at the normally taciturn caretaker. This guy saw it on YouTube? Alex wouldn’t have thought he’d have known how to turn a computer on, let alone get connected.

  “It didn’t look real to me,” he said, ignoring Mrs. Betts’s glare. “It was as if—”

  “Ever seen one for real?” someone else asked, her voice high and tense. “I mean, in real life, not on YouTube? You’ve lived here all your life, right, Mr. Smith? So you must know everything about this town.”

  “I came here when I was six, to live with a foster family,” he said. “That doesn’t mean—”

  “Tell us everything!” someone said.

  By the look on Betts’s face, the conversation wasn’t going where she wanted it to. She had officially lost control. John Smith was suddenly quiet. The others were not.

  “They come up from hell to steal souls!”

  “Hellers take babies’ breath away. Right out—”

  “And animals are terrified of them! All animals! Even bears!”

  “Didn’t they kill a moose last year? Rip it right to shreds? Drink the blood and—”

  “Dani Mann told someone who told me that the Hellers stole the copper pennies from her grandmother’s eyes after she died, then raided her purse and—”

  “Should we throw out our pennies?”

  “Screw the copper. What you want is iron.”

  “Someone said Mr. McKenzie saw one the night he ran his car off the road.”

  “Ha! He was hammered! That’s why he ran off the road.”

  “I’ve heard it was the Hellers who killed Seth Walker. Revenge for what some old guy—”

  “Their grandfather.”

  “Yeah, the grandfather—revenge for what he did to a Heller years ago.”

  Alex groaned as the conversation continued. Not just continued, grew louder. More intense. More insane. She lowered her head into her hands for all of about two seconds before Brooke elbowed her in the side. She sat up straight again.

  “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Maryanne mumbled.

  She wouldn’t be, but Alex knew the feeling.

  Mrs. Betts rapped on the lectern. “Okay, that’s enough, girls. We’ve all heard the rumors. Most of us have seen the YouTube video.”

  “Over 70,000 hits as of this morning.”

  “Thank you, Seraphina.” Mrs. Betts’s tone clearly said there would be no more Heller talk. “The point is,” Mrs. Betts continued. “We’re not going to panic. We’re not going to do anything foolish. Anything unsafe or illegal. I think you all know what I’m talking about.”

  Leah groaned and slouched down in her chair. Clearly, she knew where this was going. Alex had a suspicion herself…

  “What?” Maryanne whispered. “What’s she talking about?”

  “Weapons,” Brooke whispered back.

  “Oh.” Maryanne blinked as she absorbed the implications of that. “Oh!”

  “Girls!” Mrs. Betts clapped her hands this time to regain their attention. “We cannot have weapons on the premises!”

  George Hollis nodded, with authority. John Smith unfolded a burlap bag he’d been holding in this right hand.

  “They’re crosses!” Kassidy cried.

  “Crosses?” Someone snorted. “Got vampires?”

  “I’ve seen some of these ‘crosses’, Kassidy. They’re sharp-pointed iron nails bound together with wire ties. It qualifies as a weapon just as surely as a knife would!” Mrs. Betts said, practically shouting now. She smoothed a hand over her hair, then continued in a more normal tone. “This is a boarding house, ladies. We can’t have everyone running about armed.”

  Kassidy huffed. “You guys didn’t see what I saw.”

  Mrs. Betts ignored her. “I’ve spoken with your principal at Streep. Anyone caught at school with any kind of we
apon—whether it be intended for Hellers or not—will be expelled from school.”

  “Three days?” Leah sounded hopeful.

  “This is no joking matter, Leah. We’re talking about permanent expulsion, not temporary suspension. Have I made myself clear?”

  There was a murmur of acknowledgement.

  “Very well. As for Harvell House, there will be no weapons under this roof. Anyone caught with these homemade devices will be reprimanded. Severely. Maybe even asked to leave the house.”

  The room was finally silent, but that silence felt so heavy.

  “Mr. Smith will leave this bag here in the parlor for the day.” Upon her nod, he stepped forward and placed it on the small table in the corner. “This is an amnesty, ladies. Anyone who has a weapon in their possession can turn it over. No questions asked. No recrimination. But after today, the amnesty’s over. Anyone care to start?”

  Alex watched the crowd. A few of the girls shifted in their seats. Eyes slid away from Mrs. Betts. Finally, Leah stood. She walked to the burlap bag. From the back pocket of her jeans, she withdrew an iron nail. It had been flattened, hammered down into a small blade. Leah tossed it into the bag, then turned back around, winked to the avid crowd and strolled back to her seat. She had more than that measly little knife. Lots more. They all knew it.

  Mrs. Betts said, “Thank you, Leah. Now the rest of you…as I said, you have today. Turn it in—all of it.”

  “Does that apply to holy water?” Seraphina asked.

  Several girls snickered. “What about garlic?” one of them said, in a pretty good imitation of Seraphina’s squeaky voice.

  Mrs. Betts looked upward, as though praying for patience. “I don’t think a court would define holy water as a weapon, so feel free to keep it.”

  Some of the girls did turn in items as they filed out. Some muttered to Mrs. Betts that they’d be back later with more. More muttered to each other that no way in hell would they be giving it all up.

  The room cleared slowly and was almost empty when the doorbell rang, signifying the arrival of croissants and muffins. Except for Alex, Maryanne, and Brooke, the last of the stragglers cleared out quickly. Mrs. Betts invited George Hollis to breakfast. Alex watched as all of them now drifted away to the dining room.

  “We’re so screwed,” Maryanne groaned. She was as near tears now as Kassidy had been earlier.

  Brooke shook her head. “What do we do? Stop casting?”

  “No!” It was Maryanne who answered, but if she hadn’t blurted out that rejection, Alex would have. It was an automatic, undeniable, almost violent reaction. Maybe more so after this morning when their ability to cast felt threatened. They were casters, dammit.

  “Chill out, Maryanne,” Brooke said. “I wasn’t seriously suggesting it. I don’t want to give this up any more than you—”

  “I won’t!” And now the tears did fall down Maryanne’s cheek.

  “Good. Neither will I.”

  They both turned to Alex.

  Alex remained quiet. Deep in thought. Back and forth in her right hand, she twisted the little rose quartz necklace, a gift from a Halifax friend way back in the fall. Finally, she tucked it back into her shirt, the stone falling right over the tattoo of the bleeding rose. Bleeding rose and budding vines. Another small victory. She wouldn’t be cowering now.

  “Guys,” she said, marking both Maryanne and Brooke with a meaningful look. “I have a plan.”

  Chapter 17

  Bruised

  Brooke

  Brooke pulled a black cashmere turtleneck and her favorite True Religion jeans out of the closet and tossed them on the bed beside the fresh underwear she’d put out. She would have liked to have a shower before dressing, but as Alex had just discovered, the hot water was tapped out. That’s what you got when you rolled twelve females out of bed at the same time. She should have gone down to the bathroom to change anyway, she supposed. Maryanne absolutely hated it when she stripped down in their shared bedroom. Which was why Brooke did it so often. Yet she kept herself strategically turned. The other girls still didn’t know what tattoo she’d gotten on her thigh.

  Smiling, she shucked her pajama top and reached for her bra, but when she extended her arm, pain shot through her shoulder. Gasping, she yanked her arm back and cupped her throbbing shoulder. “Ow! That hurt.”

  “Crap, Brooke! That looks awful!” Maryanne was at her side instantly, which startled Brooke at least as much as her words had.

  Brooke lifted her hand to see her bruise from last night had turned a garish dark purple, extending from the lower part of her neck across the collar bone to the point of her shoulder. A wave of weakness washed over her. Oh, man, she hated bruises. She’d prefer a cut any day. Blood? No problem. As long as it was on the outside. But blood pooling and congealing under the skin? Ugh! Whether the bruise was on her or someone else, it gave her the willies. Always had.

  “What the heck is that?” Maryanne asked.

  “You saw it last night.” She rolled her shoulder experimentally and winced. “Don’t you remember your boyfriend pointing it out? The boyfriend who did this to me, by the way.”

  “It didn’t look anything like that last night!” Maryanne protested. “God, it really could have passed for a hickey, for all you could see of it.”

  “Exactly,” Brooke said. “Bryce Walker is way too suspicious for my liking.”

  Maryanne chewed on her lip a moment. “That’s really from last night? From Bryce?”

  “No, it’s from the freakin’ tooth fairy. Of course it’s from Bryce swinging that damned lamp pole.”

  “I’m sorry, Brooke. Honestly, I didn’t realize. I thought he was just being extra suspicious because of something I said.”

  Something Maryanne had said? Brooke’s gaze collided with Alex’s troubled eyes.

  “Care to elaborate on that?” Alex asked.

  “It’s probably nothing,” she said.

  Brooke’s lips thinned. “Why don’t you let us be the judge of that?”

  “Well, I had to come up with a good reason for leaping in front of you, for protecting a Heller, right?”

  “You said you did,” Alex said sharply.

  “Oh, I did. He was convinced. I can guarantee you that.”

  Alex’s brow puckered. “Then what’s the problem?”

  “I think I might have used the word caster when I should have said Heller.” Maryanne’s words came out in a worried rush, leaving a silence behind.

  Oh, god, they were so screwed.

  “No, you didn’t.”

  Both Maryanne and Brooke turned to Alex. “Yeah,” Maryanne said. “I’m pretty sure I did, but I didn’t realize it until I woke up in the middle of the night and replayed the conversation in my head.”

  “No, you didn’t say caster. You said Casper.” Alex took Maryanne’s elbow, forcing her to look into her eyes. “Like the cartoon ghost, only blacker.”

  Brooke snorted. “Yeah, that’ll work.”

  “It will work,” Alex insisted. “If you want to keep seeing Bryce, you can tell him you prefer to call them Caspers, because Hellers implies they’re from hell, and you’re not convinced they’re evil.”

  Maryanne brightened. “He might go for that. I already told him I didn’t believe that evil soul-sucking stuff.”

  “Good.” Alex’s shoulders relaxed a little. She turned to Brooke, who was still standing there with her arms folded over her boobs. “Oh, man, Brooke, that does look nasty. It must hurt like hell.”

  “Some,” she said, though oddly, it hadn’t hurt much until she’d extended her arm just a moment ago. Though now that she thought about it, she’d woken a couple of times in the night to change her position after rolling onto that side.

  “I don’t understand,” Maryanne said. “Your body—your original—was back here in the attic. How could that bruise just show up?”

  Brooke shrugged. “It just did.”

  “But we’ve encountered iron before,” she said. �
�We’ve all felt the nails raking through us. But we don’t come back to find our bodies in ribbons. I’ve never had so much as a scratch from those episodes.”

  “No one was wielding those nails as a weapon,” Brooke pointed out. “But if someone—Leah, for instance—were to stab you with, say, a giant iron spike, you can bet your ass it would do physical damage.”

  Maryanne looked at Alex. “You knew about this?”

  “Well, yeah.” Alex shrugged. “I thought we all knew.”

  “It’s happened before?”

  It was Brooke who answered. “Duh. Don’t you remember the time Seth smashed me to the floor with that poker? I could barely lift my right arm for two days, and the bruising was way worse than this.”

  “Yeah, way worse,” Alex agreed. “I can’t believe you never noticed.”

  Brooke snorted. “I can believe it. She averts her virgin eyes the moment I look like I might peel off a layer.”

  “I do not!” Maryanne protested.

  “Yeah, you do,” Brooke said, smirking.

  “Well if I do, it’s just because I don’t want to feed your exhibitionism.”

  “Come on, girls,” Alex said. “Play nice. We need to have a serious talk, after that pow-wow downstairs.”

  “Sure,” Maryanne said. “After she gets dressed.”

  “No problem.” Brooke’s grin widened. “Maybe you could help me into that bra…”

  Maryanne blushed—predictably—but her eyes sparkled with anger too. “And maybe you’d like to—”

  “Enough.” Alex threw her hand up in a stop signal. Then she snatched up Brooke’s bra and handed it to her. “Cover your assets, Brooke, and I’ll hook you up.”

  Brooke did as Alex commanded. She didn’t want to alienate Maryanne, after all. She just liked to razz her a bit. She dressed quickly—Alex helped her get her arm into the turtleneck’s sleeve—and plunked herself down on her bed. “So, the pow-wow. That was freaky down there, huh?”

  “Very freaky,” Alex agreed. “We’re going to have to be so much more careful than we have been. Wait until deeper in the night to cast out. Maybe cut back on how often we do it.”