Rua (Rua, book 1) (6 page)

She toweled off her face, let her hair back down, then walked to the school office.

The woman at the front was heavyset with short grandma-style hair. “Yes?” she said sternly to Celeste when she walked in.

“Um, yes. I ran late with the counselor, so can I get a note to get into my next class? Please?”

Her grimace melted into a sympathetic smile. “Of course, dear. I’ll write that out for you.” She pulled out a small notepad.

“So, um, Dr. Ramone is really great. How long has she worked at the school?” Celeste asked.

“Well, dear. She doesn’t work here. Our regular counselor is out on maternity leave, so we bring people in here under contract to fill in as needed. Dr. Ramone just happened to check in with us this week to see if we had any patients.”

“Oh, what a nice coincidence,” she managed to say, even though it felt like her mouth had just filled up with sand.

The woman held up the note. “Here you go.” She looked up at Celeste. “Are you okay, dear? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine.” She took the note and walked to her next class. All the other kids had just eaten lunch, so they still buzzed in their chairs with energy.

The teacher paused mid-lecture when she came in. Eighteen pairs of eyes came to rest on her. She ignored them and handed her note to the teacher.

He skimmed it before folding it and putting it in his pocket. “Have a seat.”

She took her habitual spot in front of Tink.

“Where have you been all day?” He scooted his desk closer. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.”

“You look weird. What’s going on?” he said.

“I’ll explain later.”

“Yes, you will.”

She rolled her eyes, then pulled out a notebook and prepared to listen to the lecture. Instead, she filled her page with doodles of birds, eyes, and shadows.

“Hey.” Tink poked her back with his pencil.

“What?” she asked under her breath.

“Why is Rylan staring at you creepy-style?”

She glanced to her right. He was seated on the far edge of the classroom, up against the wall, next to Jennifer. He sat sideways in his forward-facing desk, back against the wall, staring at her. When their eyes met, her heart tumbled into her stomach.

“Whatever,” she mumbled to Tink.

When the bell rang, she followed Tink out into the hallway. Jennifer and Rylan walked in front of her. As she watched, Jennifer leaned her back against the locker, and Rylan put one hand behind her head and leaned against her.

Some glue inside her snapped, because before she knew it, her eyes were swelling with tears. She swiveled on her heel and walked in the other direction.

“That’s it.” Tink grabbed her hand and led her out the side door.

“Where are we going?” she asked him.

“We’re ditching,” he said. “But you need to run now so we don’t get caught.”

She did, following him across the grassy field, squeezing between poorly locked chain-link gates, and finally crawling under the partially folded bleachers lining the football field. It was a little dark and musty, but they were completely hidden from view.

She leaned against a support post, face still streaked with tears. “Thanks.”

“What’s happening to you?” he asked. “I’m seriously concerned. If I ever have to eat lunch with fat Edith again, I’m going to die.”

“I can’t talk about it. You’re gonna think I’m wacko.”

“No, I won’t. But I do have something that will make you feel better.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a water bottle.

“Oh, no thanks. I’m not thirsty.”

“It’s not a matter of thirst, my dear.” He unscrewed the cap and handed the bottle to her. She took a sip and let the liquid fill her mouth. It burned a fire to her stomach, mixing in with her lunch in a not-so-pleasant way.

“Yuck. Vodka?”

“Yep.” He retrieved the bottle from her and took a deep swallow. “Keep it in my locker for emergencies.” He handed it back to her, and she took another gulp. “Well, start talking.”

“I’ve had a rough day. Weird stuff all night, so no sleep. Birds still around this morning, then I was late, then when I came in I went straight to the counselor. My life sucks.” She took another swig of vodka. She didn’t drink often, so it hit her hard. Her fingers were already nice and tingly. “And then I have to watch her and Rylan, and it pisses me off so much, and I hate myself for it.”

Tink extracted the bottle from her hands. “Pace yourself. We’ve got all day.” He took a small sip then set it down between them. “There are two reasons it pisses you off to see them together. First off, miss nasty is a raging, fake, you-know-what. Second, and more important, you like Rylan. Really, really like him. Maybe you don’t want to, but you do.”

“Crap.” She tapped the back of her head against the post. “It’s pathetic. Am I that obvious?”

He patted her knee. “It’s written all over your little face.”

“Great.”

“Just give me the word and I’ll shank that girl right in her muffin top. You know I will.”

They dissolved into laughter. “You are so wrong, yet so right.” She laughed so hard she snorted. “She doesn’t have a proper muffin top for you to shank.”

“That’s because she doesn’t eat.” He scooted next to her and put his arm around her. “What’s really going on here?”

“Whaddya mean?” She rested her head against his bony shoulder.

“There are some weird things happening. They center around you. I’m not stupid.”

She sat up so she could look at his face. It was full of concern. In this moment, hidden underneath the bleachers and warm with vodka, she felt safe.

Very quietly, she said, “It started with nightmares.”

She told him everything: the birds, the nightmares, Rylan, the shrink, the shadows. Everything. He was silent while she spoke, occasionally squeezing her shoulder if her voice got shaky.

When she finished, he was quiet.

“So, do you think I’m crazy?”

He smiled. “Nope. The birds – that’s proof right there something is happening to you.”

She smiled. “Really? You don’t think I’m nuts?”

“Hell to the no. I’m totally freaked, but I know it’s not in your head. Something weird is going on around here.”

“Well, what do you think?”

He stood and paced back and forth in the small space. “Let’s be logical, if we can. Based on what Rylan said, and the shrink, and how this is ramping up…”

“What?” she said.

“I mean, isn’t it obvious? Something is going to happen on your birthday.”

It was obvious. Why hadn’t she seen it before? “Of course, you’re right, but what?”

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t sound like it’s going to be good, right?”

“No.”

“What’s today?” he asked.

“Friday.”

“When’s your birthday?” he asked.

“Tomorrow, May 1.”

“What? Then we don’t have much time.” He offered his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“We need to eat; cover up the alcohol on our breath. Then we need to find Rylan. He knows something,” he said. “Do you know anything about your biological parents?”

“Nope.”

“Time to do some research.”

By the time they emerged from their safe cocoon, school had long been let out. They made a pit stop at a fast-food joint.

“Where to?” he asked as they idled in the parking lot.

“My place. My parents’ date night is tonight, so they won’t be home.”

“Ew.” He drove to her parents’ house, parking on the street. “Let’s do this.”

She led him inside, turning on all the lights in the house.

“Okay, how much time do we have?” He checked his watch. “It’s 5:30 right now.”

“Probably till about seven or so, more if they see a movie.”

“Okay, let’s call it seven. Where do they keep their, um, grown-up document stuff?” he asked.

“I think in their bedroom. You,” — she gestured to the couch — “wait here. I don’t want you digging around in there. That would be weird.”

“Okay.”

She went into her parents’ closet. She moved around some hanging clothes and saw what she was looking for: a small, gray, fireproof safe. The key was in the lock. She’d seen it every time they moved so she knew it had important stuff in it.

It was too heavy to pick up, so she pushed it in front of her into the living room.

“Sweet.” Tink picked it up and put it right in front of the couch.

She opened it and flipped through the files. Mortgage, car, wedding, adoption. “Bingo.” She pulled out the file and put it on the side table.

Tink sank into the couch next to her. “Well, you ready?”

“I guess.”

She opened it. The first few pages were boring stuff. A court order granting her parents managing conservatorship, then a few pages further on, an order granting them an adoption, including a name change from “Celeste” Jane Doe to Celeste Shreeve.

Tink flipped through the pages. “Boring, boring, boring. We need to see the affidavits that came along with your adoption and see if you have a birth certificate.”

“Okay, counselor.” She flipped a couple more pages. “This one says ‘Affidavit’ at the top.”

“Read it,” he prompted.

“It says ‘I, Sgt. Lowks, of the 14
^th
ladder of Los Angeles, California, hereby attest to the following. On or about May the –”

“Skip the intro stuff.”

“Okay.” She skimmed over the rest of the page. “At or around two o’clock in the morning, we heard a knock on the fire station door. I opened the door and observed an infant in a car seat. There was a note card tied to the handle of the car seat. See note affixed hereto as A.”

She flipped to the next page, which had an “A” sticker on the top and a photocopy of an index card with large, neat, looping handwriting.

She held it in shaking hands.

I’m sorry – I can’t do this.

Celeste. Exactly Three weeks old.

She’s Dangerous.

Big drops of water fell on the paper.

Tink gently pulled it out of her hands. “Don’t damage it, doll.” His eyes skimmed over the text.

“Dangerous?” She collapsed her head into her hands.

He patted her shoulder. “You’re not dangerous. Or maybe you are, but I’m not afraid.”

She chuckled despite her tears. “Thanks.”

He picked up the stack of papers and flipped through them. “Let’s see what else we have. Oh, here’s your original birth certificate.”

She snatched it out of his hands. “Name: Celeste Jane Doe. Father: Unknown. Mother: Unknown. Place of birth: Unknown.” She used the edge of her hand to wipe left-over moisture from her face. “Well, that’s not helpful at all.”

“False. We know there is no info about where you came from. That’s a fact you didn’t know before, so that’s something,” he said.

“Whatever you say. Let’s put this stuff away before they get back.”

She picked up the documents, put them back in a neat stack, and re-filed them. She pushed the file cabinet back into her parents’ closet, shut the door, and returned to the couch.

“Now what?” she said.

“Do you have any sage?”

“What?”

“Sage. You know, sticks of sage to burn,” he said.

“Um, no.”

He rolled his eyes. “What kind of supernatural person are you? I think I have some in my car.” He returned a minute later with a small, plastic bag.

“What kind of person carries around sage?” she asked.

“I’m Wicca.”

“You’re a witch?”

“Oh, please. Don’t be one of those. The craft is more like a nature based religion, nothing sketch. It’s in my family. My grandmother taught me all this stuff.” He pulled out a bunch of silvery green sticks of sage tied together with red string. “Do you have any salt?”

“Sure.” She dug through the cabinet until she found a tall container her mom used to refill the shaker. “Here.”

“Right on. We’re going to make a circle of protection around your house, and once around your room, too. Then we’ll cleanse with sage.”

“Um, all right.”

Once outside, Tink poured an almost invisible, but definitely-there line of salt, right next to the foundation. Every few feet, he closed his eyes and said few words under this breath. His black-painted fingernails clutched the container, lightly shaking the salt, working to protect her. He’d only known her a short time, knew all of the bad stuff, and was still here, by her side, trying to help her in any way he could. She snuggled against his waist to give him a quick hug.

“Wow, chica. Give a guy a heads up. I’m trying to make you a circle!” he said.

“I’m just really glad you’re here. It means a lot to me.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I’m glad you told me.” He cleared his throat. “Okay, I’m at my touchy-feely max. Let’s get this done.”

They finished outside then he went into her room. He asked her to stay completely quiet while he made a circle of salt around the baseboards in her room, muttering words the entire time. When he was done, he drew some symbols under her bed in chalk and plopped down a couple of crystals from his pocket on the floor.

“What is this?” she asked.

“A protection spell. It’s all I can do in a pinch without all my supplies, but I’ll work on some stronger stuff tonight.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“Oh, this too. Let’s cover our bases. He pulled down the front of his t-shirt, revealing a tiny cross on a necklace. He unclasped the chain and draped it on her headboard. “Hurry, let’s get the sage done before your parents get here.”

They lit the sage and went through the house, moving it up and down, making circles and squares around the windows until the entire house smelled like a forest.

“Okay.” He rolled the sage between his fingers until it was snubbed out. “It’s 6:55. I still think we need to find Rylan. Do you have his number?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Maybe Jennifer will have it,” he said.

“Probably. Yuck.”

“You stay here so you can greet your ‘rents. I’ll stop by her house on my way home to see if I can get it. I’ll text you what happens, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks for everything,” she said.

“Of course, my dear.” He pulled her to his scrawny chest. “It’ll be okay. That circle should keep away anything that means you harm.”