Revealers (14 page)

“The hat assumes the shape of something the viewer would want to put on. To me it always looks like a Yankees cap. But if you put it on it’ll clamp down on your head …” Connor pauses.

“Until your skull is crushed,” he says quietly.

“Lovely.” I close my eyes for a few seconds and try to get the horrific image I’ve just conjured out of my mind.

I walk over to the desk and I’m about to pull out the chair to sit but turn to Connor. “Will the chair arms reach up and strangle me if I try to sit on it?”

Connor frowns. He’s obviously picked up on the fact that I’m more disturbed than excited about his new venture. No.

I pull the chair out and swivel to face him. “Do you really think it’s a good idea sending some of these things back out into the world?”

“It’s not all evil stuff—there’s a ring that…”

“Bites its own tail. I’ve experienced that one firsthand, remember?”

Connor squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. “There’s a ring,” he starts again, “that makes the wearer feel more confident, and there’s a small metal statue of a nightingale that sings beautiful songs. There’s a lot of stuff in here that isn’t bad.”

“But you were planning on selling the very charming Maiden’s Vest though, right?”

“Only if you all okay it,” Connor says, all traces of excitement gone from his voice. “You’re in charge. I was just trying to find a way to contribute—to stop being dead weight around here.”

How did we cross over into this territory again? “You’re not dead weight! Look, I know you’re excited about this new auction thing, but I’m just afraid selling some of these things would put the people we’re trying to protect at risk.”

“Well, there are a few kinks to work out before we’re sure what we can try to sell, anyway, but it’s the ghost balls we’ll start out with.”

“Was that your idea?” I ask, hoping the answer is no.

He nods and furrows his brows. He’s probably worried I’m going to jump down his throat about them. I guess I can’t really blame him—I seem to be doing that a lot lately.

“I uh, heard my mom talking with your mom. They were trying to figure out some, you know, stuff and they got to talking about the witch balls. I wondered aloud if they could trap a spell in it, then why not a ghost? They did some research and as you saw today—you can.”

“How much would someone pay for a ghost, do you suppose?” I ask.

The corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. “Thousands of dollars. We already have a waiting list of people who’ve expressed an interest.”

I imagine some rich, old crackpot showing off one of the charred spirits I’d trapped today.

Even though the ghosts were on the nasty side, I get a sick feeling about treating them like some sort of commodity to be sold off to the highest bidder.

“Besides the fact that there’s something kind of twisted about selling someone’s ghost,” I say, “do we really need the extra money?”

Connor turns away from me and opens a small drawer in a cabinet. “Don’t you ever want more?” he asks quietly.

“No—not more—different. We have everything we need living off the interest from the coven’s savings. No one has to work really, so why would I want more?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” he says, opening and closing different drawers.

“Look, how about we do something else?” He turns back to me. “Let’s stow the Ouroboros away and then I can show you my room.” He puts his head down and shrugs his shoulders. “If you still want to see it, that is.”

My stomach flips uncomfortably at the disappointed tone of his voice. I’ve hurt him because I can’t muster up the enthusiasm for all of this auction stuff—especially since I know he was hoping this venture would make him something other than the stereotypical coven grunt.

“I do want to see it,” I say, walking toward him. I give him a half smile. “But you’ll have to find the ring yourself.” I walk over to him and put my arms around his shoulders. “I’ve got it wrapped up and hidden somewhere.” I lick my lips. “You’ll have to figure out where, though.”

Connor grins and draws me close to him. “I love you so much, Jules.” He nuzzles my neck and reaches his hands into my back pockets.

I hug him tighter. “I—I love you, too,” I whisper, my heart racing.

He nibbles on my earlobe and moves his hands up under the back of my shirt, along my bra.

I kiss him gently. “You’re getting warmer.” I step back and Connor smiles hungrily.

He looks down at the front of my shirt and slowly slides a hand into my cleavage. I shiver as he brushes up against the small the ring taped up tightly in paper, pulls it out, and laughs. “You sure wrapped this up well,” he says.

“I didn’t want it biting me—especially there!”

“Am I allowed to?” he asks. He looks at me with half-closed eyes.

I lick my lips. “Maybe.”

Connor puts the ring down on the table. “I’ll take care of this later,” he says. “I think you’ll like my room a lot better than this one.” He takes my hand and I’m certain tonight will be the night.

I lay next to Connor, watching his chest rise and fall in the moonlight. His eyes move back and forth beneath his lids and I wonder if he’s dreaming about making love to me.

I hate that he won’t.

You know it’s not safe— even with protection. There are other things we can do.

I slip my feet out of bed and slowly pull on my underwear and pants. I search the floor for my bra, hook it on, and then tug my shirt over my head. It’s just after nine. The library closed half an hour ago. I hope Mom is still out in her shop trying to keep the blue balls blue. I look at Connor and roll my eyes.

I put on my shoes and cringe as the floorboards squeak under my feet. Connor sighs in his sleep and I quietly shut his door.

I want one more look at the auction room. I step slowly down the hall and open the door.

The glamour is back in place.

“Reveal,” I whisper.

The room changes again. I walk along the far wall, looking at a row of knives and swords arranged neatly in a row on a table. One long thin saber moves, looking sharp and menacing as its tip follows me as I walk past. I hold my hand out ready to cast a spell if it decides to come flying off the table toward me.

I walk past the computer desk. It’s clean and clutter-free, and given the state of Connor’s room, I’m thinking Helena is the neat freak. I look at the spiral notebook with the word NOTES

written in Connor’s handwriting on the front. A thick, leather-bound book is underneath it. I move the notebook aside, and see LEDGER engraved on the worn black cover. I sit in the chair and open the book toward the beginning.

July 7, 1895 Vampire— female, blonde hair, lithe of limb July 10, 1895 Wolf—young male, perhaps eighteen, tall, red hair, freckles July 25, 1895 Shape-Shifter— male/mongrel, dog— brown and black, 1,000 extra pieces Much thanks to you—

And you in return.

That’s weird. It looks like two people are writing in the book. I hope the second person was using brown ink and not blood to write in. I turn toward the middle of the book.

December 24, 1945— three wolves, all male

December 30, 1945— wolf, retrieved pendant. Keep pendant with the others, 5,000 extra Thank you

January 4, 1946— Vampire, female

I flip through page after page of dates and records. The recorder has obviously changed as the years have passed, and so have the details they chose to include with each kill, but the brown handwriting scattered here and there remains consistent. How is that possible?

I turn toward the back. Let’s see what Helena’s written in here.

“Jules! What are you doing?”

I slam the book shut and jump up. “Connor,” I say. “God, you scared me! I just wanted another look around.”

He’s standing in the doorway in his boxers. “You shouldn’t be here alone and it’s getting late.”

“This book,” I say, laying a hand across it. “Do you know there’s a record of all of the kills ever made? Have you ever looked through it?”

“No,” he says, rubbing his eyes. “I leave that stuff to my mom, but like I said, it’s late. You should probably head home before your mom starts to worry—and ask questions.”

“Yeah.” I push the chair back and Connor holds out his hand. I take it, and as I walk out, I look back into the room and see it’s already hidden its secret stash.

“Could I come back tomorrow? I’d really like to spend some more time looking through that book again.”

I feel Connor stiffen. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, I’m not sure when my mom will be back. But I’ll let you know the next time I’m sure she’ll be away.”

“Great,” I say, but I get the feeling he doesn’t mean it. I shake my head to chase that thought away.

He walks me to the door and I see him shivering as I wrap my cape around myself.

“You should’ve put some clothes on, it’s freezing in here.”

He takes me in his arms and hugs me tight. “You’re all the warmth I need.”

“Uh-huh,” I say. I kiss him and then tilt my head toward the stairs. “Get back to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As I head up over his house on my broom I see the light to the treasure room turn on. I swoop back down and hover by the window at what I hope is a safe distance so he won’t see me.

The room is revealed, but Connor’s back is to me as he sits at the desk. The computer is booting up, and he unwraps the Ouroboros and drops it in a small wooden box.

He picks up a piece of paper and unfolds it. I can just make out a picture of the ring on the top of the page. The page is full of writing and I’m thinking there’s a lot more information about the ring than Connor let on.

I shake my head. Why do I keep getting so worked up about things? Connor isn’t the one I need to worry about. He keeps showing me time and time again he wants nothing more than for us to be together—and to prove himself.

I lean away from the window and steer my broom toward home. If I’m looking for something to worry about, it should be how I can help Dani get through her birthday initiation in two days. She’s already a basket case—I can’t imagine she’ll be much better after Helena welcomes her to the inner circle.

I wake from a dream of being chased on my broom by bricks with wings, and look at the clock—2:10 A.M. Figures it’s quiet the one night I decide to wear my jeans to bed so I’d be ready for a hunt. I guess my theory about using hunts as an initiation test is a bust—none of the other birthday hunts have been this late and Dani’s ceremony should have been over hours ago.

The kitchen light I left on for Mom is still glowing under my doorway.

I pull the covers up over my shoulders and nestle deeper into my pillow. I hope my mom stayed late to talk ghost balls or something, and Dani’s home and in bed, too.

Poor Dani—she was so shaky and twitchy while Helena was doing her “now you’re a woman” shtick. And she couldn’t stop looking around the room all bug-eyed, like she was expecting the demon from Margo and Sascha’s vision to pop up at any moment and drag her down to Hell.

At least I’ll get some scoop tomorrow—Dani promised she’d tell me whatever she could that didn’t violate whatever nonsense that was keeping Margo and Sascha from talking. We figured there’s always a way to get around rules, and she’d continue her under-the-radar rebellion by telling me what I was in for.

We didn’t get to talk about her lunch with Evan. Her mom was stuck to her side all night before the ceremony, and I couldn’t get her alone to ask how it went. I did hear her mother bragging about Dani’s grades and how seriously she’s taking school—studying all the time.

Hopefully she and Evan were able to talk and things were back on track.

I want to tell Dani about Connor’s connection with the ghost balls, too. I don’t know why I didn’t tell her yesterday at school. Maybe I didn’t because I’m still not sure how I feel about it.

I can see why Connor wants to do something to prove himself. And growing up in a coven, it’s not a huge surprise he thought about making money off the supernatural. But I’d always hoped we’d break away and do something new, not stay and deal in the same old nightmares. I picture the Maiden’s Vest and the old brown hat—you can’t get more nightmarish than them. Even the Ouroboros is cute in comparison.

I let out a long sigh and roll over onto my stomach, thinking I’ve gotten too worked up to fall asleep again.

I hear the kitchen door open. Mom’s finally home.

“Jules?”

That sounded like Dani. I sit up in bed, wondering if I was dreaming.

“Jules!”

It is her.

I pull my covers off and rush out of my room. “Dani?” I call out.

When I reach the top of the stairs I see Dani in the kitchen. Her face is red and puffy from crying. “Oh, my God! What happened?” I ask as I race down.

Dani rushes over and throws her arms around me. “She cast a spell,” she sobs. “My own mother cast a spuh—” Dani chokes on her words and holds me tighter.

“What? A spell?”

Dani pulls back and her lower lip quivers. “It’s horrible! We, we’re—uh—”

“What? Tell me what happened.”

Her face crumples. “I can’t,” she cries. “My mother cast a spell on me! I told them I was going to tell you and Zahara, and Helena—uh, made her do it.”

“They cast a spell on you so you wouldn’t tell us what?”

Dani shakes her head. “Don’t you understand? I can’t freaking tell you!” Her face is flushed and her eyes are wild. “But we have to get away—we have to leave. We can’t do this to—uh.” Dani shakes her head as if she’s trying to shake the spell away. “Damn them!” she screams.

I stare at her not sure what to do. I want to get behind her anger, but I don’t know what to be angry about. “Okay, slow down and tell me what you can.”

Dani bites her lip and sits at the kitchen table. I take the seat opposite from her and hold my hand out. She reaches for it, and squeezes it tight.

“It’s totally unreal what they did—we always thought we were—uh.” Dani looks up at the ceiling and growls with frustration. “We have to get Margo and Sascha to tell you, we have to stop this from—uh.” She slams her fist on the table. “God, I hate them!”

“Wait, if you can’t tell me what happened, maybe I can guess. Do you think you could nod yes or no?”