Dark Before Dawn (13 page)

Jamie pointed at a stone gatehouse off to the side that could have been a life-sized gingerbread house with its brown and white trim. Yellow leaves dripped down the roof like tears.

"Wow," she whispered. "It even has a gatehouse. How can Candace hate living here when it's this beautiful?"

"It sure is impressive," Dawn said. "Let’s knock."

They shuffled down the curved driveway toward the main house. Dawn pressed the doorbell and chimes resounded. After a moment, an attractive woman in her mid-forties opened the door. She had Candace's red hair, but lighter with a style that tamed the frizziness.

"Hello, you must be friends of Vicky’s," Mrs. Caldwell said.

"Actually, we're here to see Candace," Dawn said.

An eyebrow darted up. "What a pleasant surprise. Come in."

They stepped into a spacious living room. Vicky was studying on a plush white sofa. Her mouth turned down in the corners as she recognized Dawn and Jamie.

"Vicky, get your sister please," Mrs. Caldwell said. "She has company."

As Vicky threw down her book and mounted the staircase, a strong sense of apprehension climbed Dawn’s chest. Vicky didn’t seem pleased to see them, and perhaps her sister wouldn’t be, either. "Company" for Candace was apparently a rarity – and maybe she preferred it that way.

"So, what are your names?" Mrs. Caldwell asked.

"I’m Dawn and this is Jamie."

"What are your last names? Perhaps I’ve met your parents. I do quite a bit of community service." Mrs. Caldwell turned to Jamie, who shot Dawn a helpless glance.

"It’s Barry," Jamie finally said. "I doubt you know my mother. She ... doesn’t get out that much."

"You’re right, that doesn’t sound familiar. What about you, dear?" Mrs. Caldwell swiveled her head toward Dawn.

"My mother and I are new to town, but my stepfather, Jeff Magnuson, is editor of
The Covington Gazette
," Dawn said.

Mrs. Caldwell gave an approving nod. "How interesting. That's where Vicky had her summer job. She had lots of nice things to say about your stepfather." She paused as Candace trailed her sister downstairs. Vicky slipped out the front door, ignoring everyone.

"I was just getting acquainted with your friends," Mrs. Caldwell told Candace. "You should have invited them over a long time ago."

"Why? So you could give them the third degree?" Candace motioned toward Dawn and Jamie, her posture rigid and face expressionless. "Come on, we’re going to the gatehouse."

"You practically live in that gatehouse," her mother said. "What do you do in there all day?"

"Nothing you'd care about," Candace said, pulling open the door.

She shepherded her friends outside where Vicky was hugging her knees on the porch steps. Dawn forced a smile, but Vicky turned away.

Candace stalked toward the gatehouse, leaving her friends rushing to keep up. Dawn couldn’t stop thinking about Vicky’s strange behavior. For whatever reason, she didn’t like Dawn hanging around her sister, but it wasn’t like her to be rude.

"You're not mad we came, are you?" Jamie asked Candace. "Dawn said we shouldn't, but I thought you could use a little fun."

"It's better this way. Now you know what I have to put up with." Candace unlocked the door.

"But, your mom seems nice," Jamie said.

"Nice?" Candace rolled her eyes. "She’s a total phony. If she knew you lived in a trailer, believe me, she wouldn’t be so ‘nice.’ Come on in, I’ll give you guys a tour."

As they entered, Dawn shivered at the refrigerator coldness. Candace switched on the light and cranked the heat.

"The old owners had this built fifty years ago for their housekeeper. When my grandparents visit, they sleep here, but they don’t come that often."

Candace ushered them through the two upstairs bedrooms, downstairs living room and state-of-the-art kitchen. Impressive oil paintings hung on the walls and glass knickknacks sparkled in curio cases. Dawn couldn’t believe Candace’s "gatehouse" was almost the size of Jeff's house.

They stayed in a dark-paneled study. Black candles and crystals of assorted colors and sizes were spread across the open roll-top desk. Books on ESP, reincarnation, dreams and other metaphysical subjects overflowed dark pine shelves. Dawn examined a trio of pyramid-shaped red, green and blue candles.

"Those all have gem stones embedded inside," Candace said. "You remove the gem as the candles burn down. Pretty cool, huh? My mother would freak if I put anything ‘tacky’ like that in the house, but she hardly ever comes in here. Victoria doesn’t use this place anymore either, so I have it all to myself."

Candace settled onto a leather couch and opened the box of fudge. She offered pieces to Dawn and Jamie, who joined her on either side.

"Vicky seemed nervous," Dawn said. "Does she know about Serina?"

"Nope, but she knows I'm into that stuff, and she must figure you guys are, too. Maybe she thinks we'll gang up on her. It's kind of funny how freaked she gets. She used to think my ESP was neat. We’d play all kinds of games."

"Really? Like what?" Dawn asked.

Candace finished her fudge, chocolate darkening the corners of her mouth. "She used to make me guess what flashcard she was holding, or we’d stand in the Center and I’d guess what color car would stop at the next red light. If I got ten right, she’d have to buy me ice cream. When my mother’s friends were coming over, I’d guess what they’d be wearing. Vicky wanted me to teach her how to guess like that, but I didn't know how." She hesitated. "I would have, you know. If I could."

So Candace used to call her sister Vicky. It was only lately that she had been crowned Queen Victoria. As Candace talked, her tone had a disbelieving note, as if she were describing two other sisters.

"Why did you drift apart?" Jamie asked.

"She went to high school and was afraid I’d embarrass her in front of her precious friends. When she saw me reading up on ESP, she'd get upset and tell me how weird I was."

"I'm sure she didn't mean it," Dawn said.

For the first time, she glimpsed hurt rather than hatred when Candace spoke of her sister.

"She meant it. She used to be the only one I could talk to about this stuff." Candace sounded grim again. "But it doesn't matter anymore. I've got Serina."

"She's not your family, though," Dawn said.

Candace pointed a remote control at a glassed-in entertainment center. Alternative rock music snapped on from the stereo. "Yeah, she is. She's my mother and big sister rolled into one. Don’t you get it? We're all each other needs. Us and Serina. Nobody else matters."

Jamie nodded, examining a tower of Candace’s CDs and DVDs. "We’re like a family."

Dawn got up and feigned interest in Candace’s library of books. Serina had won their trust so easily. She had done so much for them. For her. Without Serina, Dawn would have no idea what her premonitions meant, no inkling that she could control them. She shuddered in her denim jacket. Maybe Jamie and Candace were right.

If Serina hadn’t adopted them, they’d all be alone.

***

The following afternoon, Serina served thick wedges of devil's food cake, chocolate chips sprinkling the mocha fudge frosting. It wasn't good for Jamie's skin or Candace's waistline. Dawn's mind jumped to the fairy tale
Hansel and Gretel
, and the witch who fattened up children to eat them. She instantly felt guilty for the absurd thought. Serina was just giving them a treat, and it tasted darn good.

Candace, who was seated beside her on the loveseat, finished her second helping. She pressed her back against the wall and stretched out her legs. "Jamie and Dawn have been to the castle. They know what a phony my mother is."

Mrs. Caldwell hadn’t seemed that bad, but Dawn kept her opinion to herself.

Serina's long locks gleamed in the candlelight, more golden than whitish. She poured a mug of apple cider and handed it to Jamie, then placed the jug onto a silver platter on the table. She remained standing, her shadow dominating the dimly lit wall. "Now you see what you all have in common. You can't count on your families. Only on each other."

Dawn stirred. How had the conversation jumped from Candace complaining about her mother, to Serina criticizing all their families?

"What do you mean?" Dawn asked. "You don’t think I can count on my mother?"

"Hasn't she uprooted you from the only life you've known? Hasn't she put her new husband before her daughter?"

"She didn't see it that way. She thought a change would be good for both of us. Jeff was sure I'd like living in Maine. They were right, I do like it."

Serina towered over her, arms crossed against her sweater. "Don't be naive, Dawn. Life is better here only because of us. Jeff doesn't care about you. He cares about himself, his son, and his wife. You're part of the package."

Anger rose up in Dawn's chest, lodging in her throat. Serina had never even met her mother and Jeff. Dawn told herself to let it slide, but as the silence dragged on, she couldn't stay quiet.

"Look, Serina, I respect you a lot, but you won't turn me against my family," Dawn said, focusing on Serina’s neck to avoid eye contact. "It’s not fair of you to try."

Jamie gasped and raised her mug to her lips. Candace regarded Dawn with cold speculation.

"I'm just making an observation," Serina said. "Your mother lets your stepfather control her. He's where her loyalty lies."

"She’s not controlled," Dawn said. "They're happy together. Jeff and Ken would never hurt me and I know my mother loves me. I do have a family."

Serina's jaw clenched. The foreboding that overwhelmed Dawn the first day she drove by the cottage raced back. None of them had ever crossed Serina.

"Of course your mother loves you, but does she understand you? Does she help you try to understand yourself?" Serina's forehead smoothed, the harsh lines receding.

"What do you mean?"

"Have you ever asked yourself why the third eye is so ingrained in you?"

Dawn found herself nodding. "Of course."

"Most people of your skill level have inherited it. Some have the talent in their genes, while others receive it as a gift from a loved one who has passed on."

"No one in my family has it," Candace said.

"I'll bet some distant relative did, maybe a great-grandfather you never met," Serina said. "Perhaps you're the only one in the last couple of generations to inherit it. I got it the other way, from my Aunt Serina, who died of cancer."

Jamie almost knocked over her cider. She steadied the mug, her hands shaking. "You mean she passed it on to you after she died? How?"

"I won't fully understand until I cross to the other side myself," Serina said. "But my aunt knew she was dying and promised me her gift. Her daughter was already a powerful psychic and didn’t need it. A few days after her funeral, I realized my aunt had been successful in bestowing her gift."

"You never told me that," Candace said. "You must have been named after her."

"I was eight when she died, but when I got older, I trained with her friends. Dawn, you should investigate where your gifts came from. Your mother may know more than you think."

"She wouldn't keep it a secret," Dawn said, but she wondered. Her mother had proven she harbored secrets. What was one more?

Serina. Dawn had never met anyone who would say the helpful and the hurtful to reach the truth. Sometimes, she found it refreshing, while other times it felt uncomfortable.

"If your mother does know where you got your abilities, I'm sure she has good reason for hiding it," Serina said.

"I wish ESP ran in my family," Jamie said with a sigh. "That would make things a lot easier."

"It can be hard without natural talent, although it
is
possible," Serina replied. "Very possible, in fact. What would you do if you had the gift?"

Jamie’s chin jutted up. "I’d find out what the kids at school are thinking and make myself more popular."

"After how they've humiliated you?" Serina asked. "You don't need people like that as friends."

"What else should I do?"

"Get even," Serina said.

"How?"

"You could use their darkest thoughts against them. That's only the beginning."

Dawn frowned and reached for her jacket on the floor. Goosebumps prickled on her arms. She longed to go home and read her English assignment at the kitchen table as her mother or Jeff cooked dinner. Suddenly, Dawn wanted nothing more than to forget her psychic training and retreat to the safety of her house.

For the next few minutes, Serina talked about how while in a meditative state, Jamie should mentally picture herself as she wanted to look and imagine other people treating her with respect. It didn’t sound like frightening advice, and there was no more mention of dark thoughts, but Dawn still couldn’t wait to leave.

After the lesson ended, Serina placed a firm hand on Dawn’s arm. "Stay. I need to talk to you."