Inner Demons (14 page)

I clutched the book close to my chest and spun around happily. By blind luck, I had found the key to how the library works. I placed the pen back on the bookshelf and sat down with Memoria.

Jackson told me I shouldn't take the book out of the library. No doubt the Order had some kind of tracking system for the books. I didn't want to forget the recipe for the elixir or make any mistakes, so I pulled out the flip phone Drake had given me when we first started dating. There was a pretty decent camera built in, and I planned to put it to good use.

The first thing I did was locate the recipe for the Elixir of Kendria. It wasn't too hard to find, and thankfully, it was written in English. I snapped a picture of the ingredients and instructions, then flipped back to the beginning of the book. One by one, I snapped pictures of each page. Total, there must have been at least a hundred pages with different handwritten spells. Near the end, I smiled when I noticed the spell that Mrs. King used to store our cheerleading routines in our sneakers.

I was tempted to take my time with the book, but I knew I still needed to try to get to Jackson's room before anyone noticed I was gone.

As soon as I was finished with the book, the glittery dust that stuck to the binding floated the book back to where it belonged. When the book was back on the shelf, the glitter fell to the floor and faded away. I smiled, amazed at how cool magic could be sometimes.

I stuffed my phone in my pocket and stepped into the main room. As I placed my foot on the top step, I heard footsteps below in the hallway. My body tensed. The passage-way opened and I jumped back. I needed a place to hide.

I had no way to know which room the person coming up the stairs wanted to go into. From the last time I was up on the third floor, I knew there was a library room, a potion room, and a room with beds. None of those rooms had a good place to hide. The fourth one, however, the one with the demon face engraved on the wood, held a long corridor of doors. On instinct, I chose this door.

The length of the corridor was shocking. Some kind of magic allowed there to be more space on this floor than was physically possible. I had no explanation for what I saw, but all I cared about at the moment was not getting caught.

I pulled open the first door on my left and stepped inside. The room was completely dark. I leaned against the door and tried to catch my breath. My heart pounded against my chest. Part of me was certain the Order had been watching me.

In the distance, I heard a woman humming. Ella Mae? I'd heard her hum that song before. It was an old tune I couldn't quite place.

I waited and listened, trying to track her footsteps and guess where she was going. Then, the demon door opened and her humming grew louder. I placed my hand over my mouth to muffle the sound of my breath. I stood as still as I could, but my knees were shivering.

Ella Mae's footsteps passed by the room where I hid, then continued down the long hallway. I sighed in relief. No one was coming for me.

I didn't move for a while, listening for some indication of whether she was still out there or not. Eventually, I heard the clicking of a door as it closed somewhere far away. I wished I had the energy to make myself invisible, but I knew I couldn't risk it. If I got sick again, I might not be able to make the potion.

I had no choice but to step back into the hallway and try my luck. There was no sign of Ella Mae, but as I left the small dark room, I could swear a pair of red eyes opened, watching me as I fled.

With Ella Mae gone into some room far down the hall, I knew that now was my best shot at breaking into Jackson's bedroom. I quickly fled into the main circular room, down two flights of stairs to the first floor, and out the back door.

I was careful to avoid the motion sensor light from the barn as I made my way around to the back of Jackson and Ella Mae's house. Something about the process felt so familiar. As if I'd done this once before. I wasn't sure how I knew which bedroom was Jackson's, but as I came up to a window on the far side of the house, I just knew.

The screen was easy to remove. I used a small amount of magic to unlock the window and push it up, then I climbed inside. It was dark and I didn't want to risk turning on the overhead light. Instead, I opened my flip-phone and let the light from the display guide me to the blue cabinet Jackson told me about. Inside, there were all sorts of strange vials and plastic bags full of various liquids and herbs. Thankfully, everything was clearly labeled with neat print handwriting.

I pulled up the picture of the recipe and gathered the various ingredients for the elixir. I expected things like eye of newt and tail of lizard, but the ingredients were mostly herbs I recognized, like lavender and thyme. Once I had everything I needed, I combined the ingredients in a small crystal cup.

I was skeptical about how all these herbs would come together to form a liquid, but as I added each piece, the items in the cup began to melt together. The final ingredient was the strangest. Water from an iceberg. When I uncorked the black bottle that held the water, I was amazed at how bright the water was. It practically glowed. Steam rose up as the warm air hit the still-cold liquid. I tipped it slightly and counted out exactly six drops of water. The crystal cup slowly iced over as a bubbling vapor rose up from the glass.

I lifted the cup to my lips and drank.

A vision flashed before my eyes so violently, it spun my head backwards. My body went rigid, as if I were suffering from a seizure. I lost control and fell into a whirlpool of memory. Everything came back to me in a rush. The way the cheerleaders treated me when I first came to town. Tori and Coach King at the field the night I went back to search for my necklace. Ms. Shadowford giving me a strange-tasting water to drink just before I got sick and passed out. I remembered it all.

I remembered Jackson. The way he'd kissed me here in this very room. He'd shown me drawings of the future. Me in a room of flames.

I remembered the ritual. The members of the Order with their dark cloaks and hidden faces had cut my hand and tested my blood with magic. They used a special dagger. I remembered it now. The same dagger with the blue stones that I had seen at Mrs. Ashworth's house. When they cut my hand, the blood on the dagger had turned from red to blue. That's when they had called me their Prima.

The Order had erased all of my memories of Jackson and Tori and any instance where magic was used around me. But now I had those memories back.

I looked down at my palm. The scar was gone.

Out of all my regained memories, one thing seemed to slap me across the face. Jackson could see the future! He had drawn Tori's death before it happened, and he had seen me in a room of flames the night Agnes died. Now, I remembered that he also warned me not to take my necklace off. He had known the demon spirit attached to the necklace would save me.

I reached up and touched the sapphire pendant. What else had he seen since then?

I opened my eyes and looked around his room. Even in the semi-darkness, I could see his desk. It was littered with papers. I turned them over, one by one, hoping to see some of the drawings. All I found though were homework notes and random doodles. There was no sign of the notebook he'd had the night I was in his room all those weeks ago.

I searched through his drawers and in his closet with no luck. Frustrated, I sat down on his bed and laid my head on his pillow. I inhaled deeply. It smelled like him. I moved my hand under the pillow to support my head, and that's when I felt it. The notebook was hidden under his pillow.

I pulled it out, but before I had time to flip through his drawings, I heard the front door to the house open.

Crap
.

Ella Mae was beginning to be a real pain in my ass. If she found me here, she certainly wouldn't keep it a secret from Mrs. Ashworth and the rest of the Order. I wasn't sure how easily they could reverse the effects of the elixir, and I didn't want to find out. Now that I had my memories back, I intended to keep them.

The house phone rang, and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I heard Ella Mae pick up in the other room. Quickly, I put all of the ingredients back into the blue cabinet and climbed back through Jackson's window.

By the time I got back to my bedroom, I was thoroughly exhausted, but I knew I couldn't sleep. I took out Jackson's notebook and studied each drawing carefully.

There were lots of things in the beginning I didn't recognize. Probably things that happened long before I came to Peachville. Then, there were the drawings I knew. Tori's death. Agnes and I in the room of flames. I flipped past them, eager to see what came next.

I gasped as I saw a clear drawing of the horrible scene I'd witnessed Homecoming night. I looked away. I'd seen enough of Morgyn's blood to last a lifetime. The image was burned into my memory. I didn't need to see it again.

Why would Jackson have gone to the dance if he knew what was going to happen? His drawing explained what I had overheard between him and Morgyn. He was trying to convince her to stay home, but when she'd suggested they both stay home, what had he said to her?

But I can't leave her there unprotected.

He'd gone because of me. Tears formed at the corner of my eyes and I let them fall. Morgyn Baker's death was my fault. I tried to tell myself that she didn't have to go to that dance. Jackson tried to talk her out of it, but she'd insisted. She was in love with him.

I wiped the tears away with the back of my hand and flipped to the next page.

A picture of Jackson sitting in a jail cell talking to me. I laughed through my tears. He'd been expecting me all along. I flipped to the next page and my eyes widened. There was a picture of Jackson being dragged from his cell by several figures dressed in dark clothing. I covered my hand with my mouth and choked back a sob. The Others! They were planning to capture him.

Frantically, I flipped to the next page in the book.

The next image was a picture of Jackson chained to a wall. His hands were out by his sides and his chest was bare. A dark figure held a silver dagger to his chest.

I turned the page, but there were no more drawings.

I sniffed, then went through the final series again. Jackson in jail, then taken in the night, then chained and stabbed in the heart. I couldn't let this happen. I needed to get in to see him right away. Making myself invisible again would take a lot of energy, but that was a risk I had to take. I knew it was dangerous, but I had no choice. I had to try to help him escape. I could hide him somewhere. On the third floor of Shadowford maybe?

I tore the last two drawings from the notebook and stood up. As I did, the notebook fell to the floor and several loose pages from the back of the book fell out. I leaned over to pick them up and saw my face.

I laid the loose pages across my bed and stared at them, open-mouthed. There were at least thirty different drawings of me. Portraits. Me in profile. Cheering at the game. Me in class. Each image was drawn with such care. He must have spent hours on them.

I traced my finger across the pages. I was touched by the level of detail he'd put into every feature of my face and every curl of my hair. I'd been wasting all this time with Drake the jerk when a guy like Jackson had been patiently watching me from the sidelines. Were these drawings proof of his feelings for me?

I was determined to ask him face to face. Right after I found a way to get him out of jail.

It took me nearly twenty minutes to get to the police station. I was nervous that making myself invisible might somehow send off some kind of alarm with the Order. When I got there, however, I realized that going invisible wouldn't be necessary. There was no way I was getting inside the station tonight.

Cops swarmed the area. Sirens blared all over town. My heart sank. Something had gone terribly wrong. I got off my bike and walked up to an officer who was standing to the side smoking a cigarette.

“What happened?” I asked.

The man shook his head and took a deep drag. “Jackson Hunt escaped,” he said. “You really shouldn't be out here by yourself.”

At his words, I hopped back on my bike so fast I nearly fell over.

“It's not safe,” he called after me.

As I passed by the row of police cars, I heard a voice come through the radio and announce there had been a break-in at the Ashworth mansion. Jackson Hunt was their prime suspect, but I knew better.

The dagger!

Panic seized me and I pumped the pedals wildly. Every cop in this town was no doubt looking for him, but I was probably the only person with any real clue where he was. When I got safely around the corner, I stopped and pulled out the last two drawings from Jackson's notebook.

In the first, he'd drawn five figures in dark clothing. Three women and one man. I couldn't tell who they were or how old they were, but they didn't look like teenagers. Others, for sure. What could they possibly want with Jackson?

In the second drawing, there were very few clues as to where they'd taken him, but one thing did stand out to me. In the far right corner of the page, Jackson had drawn a portion of an ambulance.

They've taken him to the hospital.

I tucked the drawings back into my pocket and raced toward the hospital. The streets were crowded with cops and bystanders even though it was almost midnight. It seemed that everyone had come out to help with the search. I pulled a hat out of my jacket pocket and tucked my hair into it, hoping no one would recognize me. The last thing I needed right now was to bike straight into Mrs. King or another member of the Order.

Peachville General Hospital was about two miles from the police station. I biked as hard as my legs would carry me, but it still took several minutes to get there. When I pulled into the emergency room parking lot, I started to think about what I'd done. This didn't make any sense. How would they have gotten him into the hospital without anyone noticing?

I took out the drawing again. Jackson was chained to the wall. Modern hospitals weren't exactly known for their torture rooms. I shook my head, angry at myself for making such a costly mistake. The Others hadn't taken him to Peachville General. That would be too risky. There were too many people here who would see them.

No, they needed a place where they could have complete privacy. A place where Jackson could scream all he wanted and never be heard.

The Others had taken him to the abandoned hospital on the other side of town. Brighton Memorial.

I had wasted precious time coming this way. My legs felt like rubber and my back tingled. I prayed no one was watching me. My only hope was that with all the commotion surrounding Jackson's disappearance, no one from the Order would be concerned with monitoring recruits tonight.

I pushed my body to the limit. My lungs burned. The cold air sent stinging tears rolling down my face. But I kept going, picturing Jackson chained up against that wall. There had already been so much death this year. So much heartache. I couldn't bear it if Jackson was hurt or killed.

When I got to the old hospital, I immediately knew I was in the right place. The area was out on the edge of town next to an old graveyard and an abandoned school. No one ever came out this way anymore. It was the perfect location for the Others to have a hideout.

I noticed a trail of tire tracks through the tall grass, so I dropped my bike by the side of the road and followed the pressed trail. Close to the building, an old ambulance sat parked under an archway. I held my hand close to the tail pipe. Heat radiated from it, telling me that the Others had just gotten here.

I wished I had a gun or something. Or a plan. All I could think about on the ride over was making sure that Jackson was safe. Now that I had found him, however, I had no idea what I intended to do to save him. What was one girl against five or more adults?

Morgyn had said the Others were made up of both regular non-magical people and witches like Agnes who had abilities but were never invited into the Order of Shadows. I had no idea what kind of people or abilities I would be up against tonight.

I thought about making an anonymous call to the police station. If I told them Jackson was hiding out here, they would come with sirens blazing. Of course, the Others might panic and kill Jackson on the spot. It was too risky.

I crouched down and made my way around the old ambulance. The door to the hospital was slightly opened and I made my way toward it, stopping every once in a while to make sure no one was behind me. There were no lights on inside the building and once the door closed behind me, I couldn't see a thing.

Summoning an orb of light didn't take much concentration, but it might draw some serious attention to me. Of course, so would smacking into a gurney in the pitch black darkness of the hallway. I opted for a super-tiny blue orb of light that was soft and only allowed me to see a few feet ahead.

I made my way down the hall slowly. My hands were shaking and I was sweating inside my jacket. I pulled it off and set it on the floor. As I came to the end of the first corridor, I looked both ways down the intersecting hallway. Toward the very end of the right hall, I saw a flicker of light. I listened. Voices.

My heart raced. What was I getting myself into?

I paused and took several deep breaths. I needed a plan before I took another step. With Jackson chained to the wall, I couldn't very well barge in and tell him to make a run for it.

If I made myself invisible, I could try to find the key. His drawings didn't give a specific time frame, so it was possible the Others were planning on keeping him locked up here for days before they were going to kill him.

If that were the case, I could just wait it out. Eventually, someone would have to go to the bathroom or they would fall asleep and I could make my move.

Then I remembered the demon tattoo. The second anyone realized I was missing from Shadowford, someone in the Order would track me.

I was going to have to just wing it. I inched closer to the source of the light. When I got to the door, I carefully peered through the clouded window. Jackson was there. He was chained against the far wall. I counted at least two men in the room with him. There was no sign of the silver dagger.

I can handle two guys.

Just as I was about to make my move, however, I felt a sharp object dig into the skin on my shoulder.

“Don't move,” the woman said.