Salt (11 page)

The incantation plays on repeat in my head; I lift my hand in preparation to send out the magic. But I don’t have to speak. I don’t mutter the words at all. The demon shudders under my power and hisses at me, and somehow the skin of the innocent separates from her, slowly falling away like a snake shedding its skin. The demon screams, curls up into a ball at my feet, and peers back at me.

“What are you?” she mutters.

I tilt my head to the left. I’m starting to hate that question. “A witch,” I say, though suddenly I’m nervous. I didn’t even speak the incantation. That’s not normal at all.

“N-never seen a witch do that,” she says.

“Now you have,” Carter says, suddenly beside me. I look at him, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. I look back at the cowering demon and chant the expulsion incantation. The demon screams one last time before exploding across the ugly brown tiles.

Carter turns to look at me, something playing on his lips and in his eyes. He flicks his wrist, cleaning up the demon guts. Footsteps clack behind me, and Connie gapes at me. Everyone is silent.

“You just expelled that demon,” she says. I nod my head, not sure what to say. “No,” she says, separating me from Carter and Thomas. She whispers in my ear. “You weren’t pulling from me. I can usually feel it; you
really
expelled that demon. You have magic.”

I didn’t feel her either. Carter’s magic was stronger than hers, and it attached to me like a magnet.

The glamour fades away and the Nons start moving past our space again. Everyone else looks confused, and that’s when I see them. Or rather, their badges. Enforcers.

“This isn’t good,” Thomas mutters.

“No,” one of the Enforcers, a woman with bright red hair, says. “It isn’t.”

“Status on the WNN says a large amount of magic was used here in coordination with a demon attack—one that was called in—and from the looks of you, none of you should be doing magic,” the male Enforcer says. He’s a big guy with small eyes. Kinda scary-looking.

Connie steps forward. “There was a demon; we protected Nons. That’s allowed.”

“Did the demon seek you out?”

“No,” she says. “But—”

“Did the demon harm anyone in your immediate group?”

“No.”

“Then you had no right to track it down in a highly infested Non location.”

I snort. They made Nons sound like ants. Big guy Enforcer didn’t like that, and he shoots me a look.

“I can explain this all,” Carter says. The rest of us look at him. He moves toward the other side of the hallway and looks back. “If you will,” he says, pointing at the Enforcers to follow him. And they do.

I watch Carter talking with them, his hands moving and the Enforcers asking questions. They take down a few notes, but I can’t hear anything. What can he be saying to them about this?

“Penelope,” Connie whispers in my ear. “How did you do that without a spell? I didn’t imagine that, did I?”

I shake my head. No, she didn’t, but what do I tell her? I met some stranger who gives me powers? I can’t explain any of it.

“I’ve never seen that before,” she says.

Me either. It felt like my magic latched onto the demon and hauled it out. I didn’t make it do anything—it just did it and let me follow along, catch up. It saw what I wanted, and it happened.

“Don’t tell, Gran, okay? I’m not sure what that was but I don’t want to get her hopes up.”

Connie nods, draws a cross over her heart before handing me back my bags and turning to Thomas. I glance back at Carter, but he and the Enforcers are moving back toward us.

“Your friend clarified the situation, took blame for the whole thing. We’ve determined you under no fault,” the male says.

“However, we are giving all of you a write-up. Any future offenses will lead to repercussions,” the woman says.

“We appreciate that, don’t we?” Carter asks. We all say yes, and while the Enforcers take down our information, I stare at Carter. His eyes haven’t left me either, and it makes me nervous. That kind of magic, this situation, how he makes me feel, and our power—none of it seems like it should be this way. Yet it does.

After the Enforcers leave, we all stand in an awkward little circle. Now that we’ve broken the law together and killed some demons, there’s not much left to talk about.

“I saw you said in your text that you passed. Congrats” Carter says, nodding toward the dress and shoes I hold.

“Yup,” I say quickly
. “Yup”? That’s all you’ve got, Penelope? Not even a whole word.
I send Connie a glance to please help me, but she grabs Thomas’s arm.

“We’re going to go.” She leads Thomas away. “See you at home!” she yells back. I really need her to stop leaving like that.

Carter totters on his heels, stuffs his hands into his jacket.

“I don’t know—” Carter starts.

“I wanted to say—” I say at the same time.

I bite my lip, and he waves me on to talk first. I start walking and he falls in step next to me. My mind races with thoughts, but each of them is overshadowed by the one question: Why? Why does our magic work together? Why are we connected? Why him? Why now?

We’re outside before either of us speaks again. As soon as the door closes he escorts me away from the sidewalk to this patch of trees so we’re hidden from view.

“Thanks for Thursday. I wouldn’t have passed without you,” I say.

“It was no problem,” he says. He looks at the dress in my hands. “Ceremony is tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I say. Part of me wants to say come, but there’s no reason. I need his magic, yes, but I have to make my own way.

Carter looks at me. It feels like his eyes are seeing something more than what I am. It shakes me to my core. “You had powers before,” he says.

“I don’t really want to explain it right now.” Just thinking of my parents, of the way they died and the way I lost my powers, it’s too fresh. Especially after Thursday. That test was scary-accurate from the color of paint on my walls to the smell. I push down all those thoughts. They’re part of why I’m doing this.

He’s quiet again. My heart is pounding. I can still feel the magic flowing between us, tethering us together. The magic wants more action.

“We’re good?” he asks.

“Yes,” I say. Whatever that means.

Carter sighs. “Good. I have my part of the deal ready, Lo.”

I scrunch up my face at the new nickname. “I’m thrilled. What is it?”

“You know my hobby,” he starts.

“Your dangerous and illegal hobby?”

“That’s the only one I have.”

“Then, I’m aware.”

“My dad’s been giving me grief about where I spend my evenings. Demons aren’t exactly the type to frolic in the daylight, despite today’s fun,” he says.

“And?”

“And I need you to be my girlfriend.”

“What?” He can’t be serious.

“Not for real—for him. I need to be able to tell him I’m going out with you and it not be a lie. He knows when it’s a lie. If I’m with you, then I’m not lying and I can’t get in trouble.”

“No,” I say.

“You said anything.”

Damn desperation. “What would our evenings together entail? I have standards.”

“I can meet them. Mostly it will be demon tracking. I’m looking for this one, and I’m getting closer.”

“Just one?”

“For now. Sometimes they lead other to others, but this one has the answers I need. It’s easier to track them if you narrow your search. What do you say?”

Maybe I was wrong. I don’t have to do this. If Carter has knowledge about tracking demons, this could work. I can learn from him and use it to find my demon when it’s time for that.

“Okay.”

“That was way too easy,” he says. “Why was that so easy?”

I shrug. “I’m being open-minded. I’ll be your beard and you’ll be mine. It’s a win-win. But I have a condition.”

“Which is?”

“We need to figure out why our magic works together.”

“Fine,” he says. “My condition is that this position as beard has no timeline. It could be the middle of the night and when I call, you come. Plus, we are better together. My magic is smoother, for whatever reason, and I need all the magic I can get.”

“Deal,” I say. “Who are you looking for?”

Something dark passes over his eyes. “That’s a long story, too.”

He stares at me, like I’m a puzzle he’s trying to solve. It’s unsettling. We cross the parking lot in silence. When we get to my car, he looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t.

“Bye, Pen,” he says.

“It’s not Pen!” I yell after him, but he’s already gone.

I spent the next few hours thinking about Carter’s request. Part of me knows it’s stupid to go tracking a demon with him, but I’m also curious to see more of what our magic does. There must be a reason we’re connected. Plus, learning how to track a specific demon!

When I get home, Gran and Pop are both out. It’s Saturday afternoon so Gran is off cheating at bridge with the ladies. Pop is probably in the garage or pretending that he doesn’t stalk the Enforcers to see if they need extra help. Connie went to Thomas’s. Everyone is gone for a couple hours at least, so I could get some serious research done in a couple hours at the library. I hang up my dress in the closet and then my phone sings out the WNN tone again. I don’t want to look because for days it’s only been bad news after bad news, but I want to know.

This is no exception. The demons attacked again, taking out a whole Enforcer team in region five. This is just like fifty years ago when Alfie Spencer was alive. Alfie…

This is the perfect opportunity to find out something about Alfie. I race upstairs to the attic. If there’s something to find out then it will be recorded in the Umbra. Each witch’s Umbra has his or her own family tree in it, the history of our kind, and a collection of spells.

When a couple are Bonded, they merge the important pieces of both families into one so each family has their own book. It’s been tradition since our creation. When a family get too many copies, they can take the older ones to the library at the Nucleus House to be kept and documented.

I used to read Mom’s Umbra a lot after she died. I would trace the letters of her smooth handwriting until I could copy it from memory. I know all her spells and incantations, even though I never use them. Gran never let me touch hers. She said it was powerful and important. I’d watch her place it on the tallest shelf in a plastic case, and I remember trying to reach it, but my arms and legs were too short. Lucky for me, I’m not short anymore.

Gran’s Umbra is right where it’s always been. I carefully open the plastic case and pull the book out. It’s heavier than Mom’s. The pages are thicker, rippled, and a darker shade of yellow. The cover is dark brown with a golden
W
for Warren embossed on the cover. The thing is heavy—I’m talking the whole Harry Potter series put together heavy. Those are some great books. Totally inaccurate, but great.

Bracing the Umbra, I lower myself to the floor. When I open the book it leans over more to one side. Two blank pages, and then I see the start of the family tree.

It starts with “Spencer.”

I find Alfie above Gran’s mother, so he
is
a relative, but some of his children are blacked out. Mom’s Umbra doesn’t have that, does it? I would definitely remember that. My eyes drift to the top of the page. Leo and Elizabeth Spencer. The beginning of our tree in the late 1800s, when we came over from Europe.

Four lines come off from their name: Clementine, Gregory, Charlotte, Matthew. Between Gregory and Charlotte, there’s a name scratched out so intensely that I can’t read what it says. There are even lines—two of them, to Beatrice and Clara—coming off the scratched-out name. I lean in closer. There are two thicker lines retracing the names to Matthew. That’s weird. Everyone else has a date of birth and death at the bottom, except the one marked out. It’s almost like someone made a mistake.

But no, that’s not right. If they’d messed up then they wouldn’t have poor Beatrice and Clara coming off her name like they were her children. Beatrice has children and grandchildren all the way down to Connie and me. Clara does too, but there’s a whole generation with people blacked out. People who had children of their own. Did they all die? Why would someone cross out this name and some of her children for eight generations? And why are there lines and names blacked out?

Something weird is going on.

I close the book and reach to put it back when something falls from the pages. It’s an old newspaper article that’s been preserved from March 1842. The font has faded in certain areas.

Powerful Family Offers Reward for Missing Daughter

Triad member Leo Spencer and his wife, Elizabeth, seek information regarding the whereabouts of their daughter. Emmaline Spencer (age seventeen, blond hair, blue eyes) was last seen the morning of the fifteenth day of March. She was distraught when she fled the Spencer home.

The Spencer family believes their daughter is in some trouble. With the upswing in demonic activity, Mr. Spencer is offering a reward to any persons in the community who may have information as to his daughter’s whereabouts. Enforcers are on notice for the girl. Please contact the council with any information.

I stare at the page. Leo and Elizabeth Spencer were my great-great-something-grandparents. Emmaline Spencer. I’ve never heard of her. Why have I never heard of her? I turn back to our tree in Gran’s book. She’s got to be the one blackened out. There’s no way all this isn’t connected.

I put the book back in Gran’s case and run downstairs to Connie’s room where Mom’s Umbra is stored, old article in hand. I pull the black book off the shelf and turn to the family tree. Mom’s is different. Leo and Elizabeth have the four children, no name scratched out. Beatrice and Clara obviously belong to Matthew. There are people blacked out below, but all are marked dead.

They wrote Emmaline Spencer out of our history. Why would they do that? Someone wanted to forget her. Even worse, someone wanted to pretend that she never existed. Umbras can’t be changed; they are magically protected by blood, so they’d have to go through a lot of trouble to hide something.