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Authors: Cate Tiernan

Awakening

BOOK: Awakening
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Table of Contents
 
 
All quoted materials in this work were created by the author.
Any resemblance to existing works is accidental.
Awakening
 
SPEAK
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A.
Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
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Registered Offices: Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England
 
Published by Puffin Books, a division of Penguin Young Readers Group, 2001
This edition published by Speak, an imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc, 2007
 
 
Copyright © 2001 17th Street Productions, an Alloy company All rights reserved
Produced by 17th Street Productions,
an Alloy company
151 West 26th Street
New York, NY 10001
 
17th Street Productions and associated logos
are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Alloy, Inc.
 
eISBN : 978-1-101-17662-7
 
 

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To GC and EF, with many thanks
1
Embers
I stood with Bree Warren and Robbie Gurevitch, my two oldest friends, on the lawn in back of Cal Blaire’s house. Together we stared at the flames that leaped hungrily up from the pool house and cast a smoky pall over the stark November moon. Somewhere in the inferno there was a crash as a section of the roof caved in. A fountain of white-hot sparks flew skyward.
“My God,” Bree said.
Robbie shook his head. “You got out of there just in time.”
Sirens wailed in the distance. Though it was the last night of November and snow lay inches deep on the ground, the night air felt hot and dry as I gulped in a deep breath. “You guys saved my life,” I managed to choke out. Then I doubled over, coughing. It hurt just to breathe. My throat was raw and my chest ached and every cell in my body craved oxygen.
“Barely,” Robbie murmured. He tucked an arm under my elbow, supporting me.
I shuddered. I didn’t need Robbie to tell me how close I had come to dying, trapped in the tiny, spell-wrapped room that had been hidden in the pool house. Trapped by Cal Blaire, my boyfriend. My eyes, already stinging from the smoke, blurred again with tears.
Charismatic, confident, inhumanly beautiful, Cal had woken something that had been sleeping inside me for sixteen years. It was Cal who had first loved me, as no boy ever had. It was Cal who had helped me to the realization that I was a blood witch, with powers I’d never even known could exist in the real world. It was Cal who had shown me how love and magick could twine together until it seemed that all the energy in the universe was enfolding me, streaming through me, there for the taking.
And it was Cal who had lied to me, used me. Cal who, less than an hour ago, had tried to kill me by setting the pool house on fire.
The wailing sirens of the fire trucks sounded closer now, and I could see the reflection of their whirling lights faintly in the dense clouds of smoke. The red made a hellish glow against the roiling gray. I turned to see where the trucks were, then gasped as two dark, faceless silhouettes loomed up in front of me.
They resolved into Hunter Niall and his cousin, Sky Eventide, two English witches who’d arrived in our little town a few weeks ago. Oh, right, I realized foggily. I’d sent them a witch message, too, begging them to help me. I’d forgotten.
“Morgan, are you all right?” Hunter asked in his crisp, accented voice. “Do you need a doctor?”
I shook my head. “I think I’m okay.” Now that I could breathe, my body was starting to thrum with adrenaline, and I was getting a weird, disconnected feeling.
“There’ll be an ambulance coming with the fire trucks,” Bree pointed out. “You should let them check you out, Morgan. You inhaled a lot of smoke.”
“Actually, if Morgan’s up to it, it would be better if we left now.” Hunter cast a glance over his shoulder. The first of the fire trucks was turning into the curved gravel driveway in front of the big house where Cal and his mother, Selene Belltower, lived. “I don’t think we want to talk to anyone official. Too many awkward questions. Sky, if you wouldn’t mind delaying them for a moment so we can make our getaway . . .”
Sky nodded and set off across the lawn at a smooth lope. Stopping a few yards from the house, she held up her hands. I watched, puzzled, as she moved her fingers in a complicated dance in the air.
“What’s she doing?” Robbie asked.
“Casting a glamor,” Hunter explained. “She’s making the firemen believe the fire has spread to the house. The illusion won’t last more than a few moments, but it’ll keep them from noticing our cars while we’re driving away.” He nodded his approval to Sky as she hurried back toward us. “Let’s get going. No time to waste. Robbie, if you’ll drive Morgan’s car, we can all meet down at the end of the block.”
I was dimly amazed by the swift way he took charge of the situation. No exclaiming over what had happened. No expressions of shock or horror. Just business. Normally that would have irritated me. But at that moment I felt reassured; safe, almost.
Robbie hurried toward my car. I started to follow him, but Bree took my arm. “Come on, you can ride with me,” she said.
My gaze met hers. Even at the scene of a fire, her glossy, shoulder-length hair looked perfect. But the shock of what had happened showed in her dark eyes.
Once we’d been so close that we’d finished each other’s sentences. That was before she’d fallen for Cal, before he’d chosen me. This morning Bree and I had been enemies. But tonight I had called her, sent her a witch message with my mind, when I was facing my darkest hour. I had called out to
her.
And she had heard me and had come to my aid. Maybe there was hope for us yet.
“Come on,” Bree repeated, and led me toward her BMW. She helped me into the passenger seat, then went around to the driver’s side. As we drove down the narrow, winding back driveway, she glanced anxiously in her rearview mirror.
“They’re still running around the main house. No one’s even gone into the backyard yet,” she said. A smile tugged at her lips. “Sky’s spell really worked, I guess. All this witchcraft stuff really blows my mind.”
She gave me a sideways look. “It was wild hearing your voice so clearly in my mind,” she added after a moment. “I thought I was going nuts. But then I figured, enough bizarre things have happened lately that I probably should take this seriously.”
“I’m glad you did. You saved me,” I replied. My voice was hoarse, and the act of speaking triggered another coughing fit.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bree asked when I straightened up. “No burns or anything?”
Not on the outside, I thought bleakly. I shook my head. “I’m alive,” I said. “Thanks to you.” It wasn’t exactly a reconciliation, but it was all I could manage at the moment.
At the end of the dark, quiet block we pulled up to the curb behind Sky’s green Ford. Robbie was already there, leaning against the door of my car, Das Boot. I winced as I looked at the battered ’71 Valiant. It was already dented and missing a headlight from a minor accident I’d had a week ago. Then, moments ago, Robbie had used Das Boot to ram through the wall of the pool house where I was trapped. Now the hood was badly dented, too.
“Right, then,” Hunter said. He spoke briskly, but I felt like I was hearing him through a layer of heavy cloth. Somehow I just couldn’t focus. “People are going to be asking a lot of questions about what happened here tonight; how the fire started, and so forth. We need to get our stories straight. Robbie, Bree, I think it’s best if you simply pretend you weren’t here. That way no one will question you.”
Robbie folded his arms. “I’m going to tell our friends in Cirrus the truth,” he said. “They have a right to know.” Cirrus was the coven Cal had started. Robbie and I were members, along with four other people.
“Cirrus,” Hunter said. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You’re right, they should know. But please, ask them to keep it to themselves.” He turned to me. “Morgan, if you can bear it, I need to talk to you. I’ll drive you home in your car afterward.”
I cringed. Talk? Now?
“Can’t it wait until tomorrow?” Bree asked sharply.
“Yeah,” Robbie agreed. “Morgan’s a mess. No offense, Morgan.”
BOOK: Awakening
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