The Indigo Spell (14 page)

“Are you sure?” he said. His tone was lighter now, turning him back into the Adrian
I knew. “Because I’ve got a lot more terms of endearment to use. Honey pie. Sugarplum.
Bread pudding.”

“Why are they all high-calorie foods?” I asked. I didn’t want to encourage him, but
the question slipped out before I could stop it. “And bread pudding isn’t really that
romantic.”

We had reached Wendy’s door. “Do you want me to call you celery stick instead?” he
asked. “It just doesn’t inspire the same warm and fuzzy feelings.”

“I want you to call me Sydney.” I knocked on the door. “Er, Taylor.”

A girl with freckles and frizzy red hair answered. Her eyes narrowed warily. “Yes?”

“We’re looking for Wendy Stone,” I said.

She scowled. “Are you from the registrar’s office? Because I told them the check’s
on its way.”

“No.” I lowered my voice and made sure there were no witnesses. “My name’s Taylor.
We’re here to talk to you about, um, magic.”

The transformation was sudden and startling. She went from suspicious and cautious
to shocked and outraged. “No.
No.
I’ve told you guys a hundred times I don’t want to be involved! I can’t believe you’d
actually show up at my door to try to convert me to your little coven freak show.”

She tried to shut the door, but Adrian managed to stick his foot in and block it.
Very manly. “Wait,” he said. “That’s not what this is about. Your life might be in
danger.”

Wendy turned incredulous. “So you guys are threatening me now?”

“No, nothing like that. Please,” I pleaded. “Just let us talk to you for five minutes
inside. Then we’ll leave and never bother you again.”

Wendy hesitated and then finally gave a nod of resignation. “Fine. But I’m getting
my pepper spray.”

Her apartment was neat and tidy, save for a pile of papers and engineering books scattered
on the floor. We’d apparently interrupted her homework, which brought back my wistfulness.
She made good on her promise to get the pepper spray and then stood before us with
crossed arms.

“Talk,” she ordered.

I showed her the picture of Veronica. “Have you ever seen this woman?”

“Nope.”

“Good.” Or was it? Did that mean Veronica might have Wendy tagged as a future hit
and was waiting to pounce? “She’s dangerous. I’m not exactly sure how to put it. . . .”

“She finds girls with magic and sucks away their souls,” supplied Adrian helpfully.

Wendy did a double take. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“That’s not exactly the case,” I said. “But it’s close enough. She seeks out girls
with power and takes it for herself.”

“But I don’t use magic,” Wendy countered. “Like I told you, I don’t want anything
to do with it. There’s a witch who lives in Anaheim who’s always telling me how much
potential I have and how I should be her apprentice. I keep telling her no, and I’ve
never even tried any spells. This soul-sucking lady has no reason to come after me.”

Ms. Terwilliger had warned me some of the girls might say this. In fact, she’d said
most would have this argument.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “That won’t stop her.”

Wendy looked terrified now, and I didn’t blame her. My reaction had been similar.
It was frustrating to know the very thing you were trying to get away from might come
after you.

“Then what should I do?” she asked.

“Well, avoid her if you can. If she comes to see you . . . I mean, don’t let her in.
Don’t be alone with her.” That was slightly lame advice, and we all knew it. “If you
do see her, I’d tell that witch in Anaheim. In fact . . . I know you don’t want to,
but if I were you, I’d get in touch with that witch now and try to get her help. Maybe
even learn a few defensive spells. I understand you don’t want to—believe me, I really
do—but it could save your life. Also . . . ” I held out the agate charm. “You should
take this and wear it at all times.”

Wendy eyed the charm as though it were a poisonous snake. “Is this some trick to get
me to learn magic after all? You come here with this whole act about how if I don’t
learn, I could get my soul sucked away?”

Again, I had to give her points. I would think exactly the same thing. “We’re telling
the truth,” I insisted. “There’s no proof I can offer—well, wait. Give me your email
address, and I’ll send you this article about another girl it happened to.”

Wendy looked like she was on the verge of using the pepper spray. “I think I would’ve
heard if some girl had her soul magically sucked away.”

“It wasn’t really obvious to those who don’t know about the magical world. Let me
send it to you, and then you can make your own decisions. It’s the best I can offer.”

She reluctantly agreed and wrote down her email address. Adrian stepped forward to
take it from her, but he must have moved too quickly because she suddenly thrust the
can of pepper spray in his direction.

“Stay back!” she exclaimed. At the exact same moment, I sprang in front of him, terrified
he was about to get a face full of pepper spray. I cast the first spell I could think
of, a simple one that created a flashy—but harmless—show of colored light. A shielding
spell would’ve been much more useful, but I hadn’t practiced any yet. That would have
to be rectified, in case our future errands involved more pepper spray.

“
You
back off,” I warned.

As I’d hoped, the brilliant display was terrifying to someone anti-magic like Wendy.
She retreated to the far side of her apartment and thankfully didn’t use the spray.

“G-get out,” she stammered, eyes full of fear.

“Please take precautions,” I said. I set the charm on the floor. “And please wear
this. I’ll email you the article.”

“Get out,” she repeated, making no move toward the charm.

As Adrian and I walked out of her building and into the sun, I sighed loudly. I was
dismayed enough that I didn’t even have the chance to feel down about being at a college.

“That didn’t go so well,” I said.

He thought about it, then grinned. “I don’t know, Sage. You threw yourself in the
line of pepper spray for me. You must like me just a
little
bit.”

“I—I figured it’d be a shame to ruin your pretty face,” I stammered. In truth, I hadn’t
been thinking of anything that specific. All I’d known was that Adrian was in danger.
Protecting him had been instinctual.

“Still, that spell was kind of badass.”

I managed a small smile. “It was harmless, and that’s the thing. Wendy didn’t know
any better. The reason Veronica goes after these girls is that they don’t have any
magical protection—and that’s exactly why they probably can’t stop her. I don’t think
pepper spray will help, but maybe the article will convince her. Oh, shoot. I’ll have
to make a fake email address for Taylor.”

“No worries,” said Adrian. “I already have a Jet Steele one you can use.”

This actually made me laugh. “Of course you do. For all the online dating you do,
right?”

Adrian didn’t comment one way or the other, which bothered me more than it should
have. I’d meant it as a joke . . . but was there truth to it? If rumors—and some of
my own observations—were true, Adrian had experience with a lot of women. A
lot
. Thinking of him with others upset me, far more than it should have. How many other
girls had he kissed with that same intensity? How many had been in his bed? How many
had felt his hands upon their bodies? He couldn’t have loved them all. Some—probably
most—had been conquests, girls whose faces he forgot the next morning. For all I knew,
I was just the ultimate conquest for him, a test for his skills. You probably couldn’t
find a greater challenge than a human with hang-ups about vampires.

And yet, thinking back on all the things said and unsaid between us, I was pretty
sure that wasn’t true. No matter how crazy this romantic entanglement was, he loved
me—or thought he did. I was no superficial conquest. It’d probably be better if I
was, though. Without an emotional connection, he’d eventually give up and easily find
comfort in someone else’s arms. This would probably be a good time for me to suggest
he do that anyway.

But I stayed silent.

THE NEXT MORNING,
I sought out Ms. Terwilliger before class to give her a recap of yesterday’s adventures.
She leaned against her desk, sipping a cappuccino as I spoke. Her expression grew
darker as the story progressed, and she sighed when I finished.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” she said. “I’m glad you were able to find the Stone girl,
but that kills our lead on Veronica until the next full moon. It could be too late
by then.”

“You’re sure there’s no other scrying spell?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Most that I could attempt would alert her that I was looking
for her. There is one that might mask me while I’m using it . . . but it also might
not be able to penetrate any shielding she’s using to hide herself.”

“It’s still worth a try, isn’t it?” I asked. The warning bell rang, and students began
trickling into the classroom. She shot me a smile as she straightened up.

“Why, Miss Melbourne, I never thought I’d hear you suggesting such things. But you’re
right. We’ll talk about it this afternoon. It’s something I’d like you to see.”

That anti-magic gut instinct started to rear its ugly head . . . and then stopped.
Somewhere, against my wishes, I’d gotten caught up in all of this. I was too concerned
now about Veronica’s other victims to pay attention to my usual worries. In Alchemist
eyes, using magic was bad. In my eyes, leaving innocents in danger was worse.

With no other critical situations to contend with, I found that the day flew by. When
I rejoined Ms. Terwilliger for our independent study, I found her packed up and waiting
for me to arrive. “Field trip,” she told me. “We need to work on this at my place.”
A wistful look crossed her features. “Too bad we can’t stop at Spencer’s.”

Caffeine and magic didn’t mix, which was another good reason for staying away from
the arcane. I started to point out that since I wasn’t working any magic, I didn’t
have the same restrictions. A moment later, I decided that would be mean. Ms. Terwilliger
had enough going on with a bloodthirsty sister on the loose. She didn’t need to be
taunted too.

The cats were waiting at the door when we arrived at her house, which was slightly
terrifying. I’d never seen all of them at once and counted thirteen. I had to assume
that number was by design.

“I have to feed them first,” she told me as they swarmed at her feet. “Then we’ll
get to work.”

I nodded wordlessly, thinking her plan was a good one. If those cats weren’t fed soon,
it seemed likely they would turn on us. I didn’t like our odds.

Once they had food to distract them, Ms. Terwilliger and I went to her workshop. There
was little I could do except observe. Magic often required that the person doing the
spell be the one to put in all the labor. I assisted with a little measuring, but
that was about it. I’d seen her do a couple of quick, flashy spells in the past but
never anything of this magnitude. It was clear to me that this was a very, very powerful
feat. She had nothing to link her to Veronica, no hair or picture. The spell required
the caster to use the image in her mind of the person being sought. Other components,
herbs and oils, helped enhance the magic, but for the most part, the work was all
on Ms. Terwilliger. Watching her prepare triggered a mix of emotions in me. Anxiety
was one, of course, but it was paired with a secret fascination at seeing someone
with her strength cast a spell.

When everything was in place, she spoke the incantation, and I nearly gasped as I
felt power surge up in the room. I’d never sensed it from another person before, and
the intensity nearly knocked me over. Ms. Terwilliger was staring at a spot a few
feet in front of her. After several long moments, a glowing dot appeared in the air.
It grew bigger and bigger, turning into a flat, shimmering disc, which hung there
like a mirror. I stepped backward, half-afraid the disc would keep expanding and consume
the room. Eventually, it stabilized. Tense silence surrounded us as she stared at
that glowing surface. A minute passed, and then the oval began to shrink and shrink
until it was gone. Ms. Terwilliger sank with exhaustion and caught the side of her
table for support. She was sweating heavily, and I handed her some orange juice we’d
had ready.

“Did you see anything?” I asked. There’d been nothing visible to me, but maybe only
the caster could see what the spell revealed.

She shook her head. “No. The spell was unable to touch her mind. Her shielding must
be too strong.”

“Then we can’t do anything until next month.” I felt my stomach drop. I hadn’t realized
until that moment how much I’d been hoping this spell would work. So much of my life
involved problem solving, and I felt lost when I ran out of options.

“You and Adrian can keep warning the other girls,” said Ms. Terwilliger. Color was
starting to return to her face. “At the very least, it might slow Veronica down.”

I looked at the time on my cell phone. This spell had taken longer than I thought.
“I don’t think we can do a round trip to Los Angeles today. I’ll get him tomorrow,
and we’ll see if we can finish off the list.”

Once I was convinced she wouldn’t pass out from magical exertion, I made motions to
leave. She stopped me as I was about to walk out the door.

“Sydney?”

I glanced back, suddenly uneasy. The problem with having so many people call me by
nicknames was that when someone called me by my actual name, it usually meant something
serious was happening.

“Yes?”

“We keep talking about warning others, but don’t forget to look after yourself as
well. Keep studying the book. Learn to protect yourself. And keep the charm on.”

I touched the garnet, hidden under my shirt. “Yes, ma’am. I will.”

Marcus’s promised text came as I was driving back to school, telling me to meet him
at a nearby arcade. I knew the place and had actually been to its adjacent mini-golf
course once before, so I had no difficulty heading over there. Marcus was waiting
for me just inside the door, and thankfully, Sabrina wasn’t around wielding a gun.

I hadn’t spent a lot of time in arcades and didn’t really understand them. They hardly
meshed with my father’s style of education. For me, it was a mass of sensory overload
that I wasn’t quite ready for. The smell of slightly burnt pizza filled the air. Excited
children and teenagers darted back and forth between games. And everywhere, everything
seemed to be flashing and beeping. I winced, thinking maybe my dad had been on to
something in avoiding these places.

“This is where we’re going to discuss covert activities?” I asked in disbelief.

He gave me one of his movie star smiles. “It’s not an easy place for people to spy
on you. Besides, I haven’t played Skee-Ball in years. That game is awesome.”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“What?” It was kind of nice to catch him by surprise again, even if it was for something
so trivial. “You’ve been missing out. Spot me some money for tokens, and I’ll show
you.” Apparently, being an on-the-run renegade leader didn’t pay well.

He found the Skee-Ball machines instantly. I bought him a cupful of tokens and handed
them over. “Have at it.”

He promptly put a token in and threw his first ball. It landed completely outside
of the rings, making him scowl. “You don’t waste any time,” I remarked.

His eyes were on the game as he made his second throw, which again missed. “It’s a
survival tactic. When you spend enough time on the run . . . hiding out all the time . . .
well, you take advantage of these moments of freedom. And when pretty girls spirit
you away.”

“How do you know we’re free? How can you be so sure the Alchemists haven’t been watching
me?” I asked. I was pretty sure I wasn’t being watched and mostly wanted to test him.

“Because they would’ve showed up on that first day.”

He had a point. I put my hands on my hips and tried to be patient. “How long are you
going to play? When can we talk?”

“We can talk now.” His next ball hit the ten-point ring, and he whooped with joy.
“I can talk and throw. Ask away. I’ll give you as many shocking secrets as I can.”

“I’m not easily shocked.” But I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity. I glanced
around, but he was right. No one was going to eavesdrop in this noisy place. We could
barely hear each other as it was. “What’d you do to get kicked out of the Alchemists?”

“I didn’t get kicked out. I left.” This round ended, and he put in his next token.
“Because of a Moroi girl.”

I froze, unable to believe what I’d heard. Marcus Finch had started his great rebellion . . .
because he’d been involved with a Moroi? It rang too close to my own situation. When
I didn’t say anything, he glanced over and took in my expression.

“Oh.
Oh.
No, nothing like that,” he said, realizing my thoughts. “That’s not a line even I
would cross.”

“Of course not,” I said, hoping I was doing a good job at hiding my nervousness. “Who
would?”

He returned to the game. “We were friends. I was assigned to Athens, and she lived
there with her sister.”

That derailed me. “Athens . . . you were in Athens? That was one of the places I wanted
to be assigned. I went to St. Petersburg instead, but I always kept hoping that, maybe,
maybe
, I’d get reassigned to Greece. Or even Italy.” I was nearly babbling, but he didn’t
seem to notice.

“What’s wrong with St. Petersburg? Aside from the high Strigoi count.”

“What’s wrong is that it wasn’t Athens or Rome. My dad specifically requested that
I
not
be assigned to either place. He thought it’d be too distracting.”

Marcus paused again to give me a long, level look. There was sympathy in his expression,
as though my entire history and family drama were playing before his eyes. I didn’t
want him to feel sorry for me and wished I hadn’t said anything. I cleared my throat.

“So tell me about this girl in Athens.”

He took the hint. “Like I said, she was a friend. So funny. Oh, man. She cracked me
up. We used to hang out all the time—but you know how that’s kind of frowned upon.”

I almost laughed at his subtle joke. Kind of? That was an understatement. Field Alchemists
weren’t supposed to interact with Moroi unless it was absolutely necessary for some
business matter or related to stopping and covering up Strigoi. My situation was a
little unique, since my mission actually required me to talk to her on a daily basis.

“Anyway,” he continued. “Someone noticed, and I got a lot of unwelcome attention for
it. Around the same time, I started hearing all these rumors . . . like about Alchemists
holding Moroi against their will. And even some Alchemists interacting with the Warriors.”

“
What?
That’s impossible. We would never work with those freaks.” The idea of Moroi prisoners
was outlandish, but it was that second part that truly stumped me. I couldn’t even
process it. He might as well have said the Alchemists were working with aliens.

“That’s what I thought.” He threw another ball, looking supremely pleased when it
scored thirty points. “But I kept hearing whispers, so I started asking questions.
A lot of questions. And, well, that’s when things really went bad. Questions don’t
always go over so well—especially if you’re a nuisance about them.”

I thought about my own experience. “That’s certainly true.”

“So that’s when I walked. Or, well, ran. I could see the signs. I’d crossed a line
and knew it was only a matter of time before I had a one-way ticket to re-education.”
Another new round started, and he gestured me forward. “Want to give it a try?”

I was still stunned enough by his earlier words that I stepped forward and took a
ball. The Alchemists were logical, organized, and reasonable. I knew there were Alchemists
who wished we could do more to fight the Strigoi, but there was no way our group would
work with trigger-happy zealots. “Stanton told me we only tolerate the Warriors. That
we’re just keeping an eye on them.”

“That’s what I was told too.” He watched me line up a shot. “There’s kind of a learning
curve to this, by the way. It may take you a few—”

I threw and hit the fifty-point ring. Marcus could only stare for a few seconds, his
earlier smirk vanishing.

“You said you’d never played!” he exclaimed.

“I haven’t.” I threw another fifty pointer.

“Then how are you doing that?”

“I don’t know.” Fifty points again. “You just base your force on the ball’s weight
and distance to the ring. It’s not that hard. This is kind of a boring game, really.”

Marcus was still dumbstruck. “Are you some kind of super-athlete?”

I nearly scoffed. “You don’t need to be an athlete to play this.”

“But . . . no . . .” He looked at the rings, then at me, and then back to the rings.
“That’s impossible. I’ve been playing this since I was a kid! My dad and I used to
go to our town’s carnival over and over in the summer, and I’d spend at least an hour
playing this each time.”

“Maybe you should have made it two hours.” I tossed another ball. “Now tell me more
about the Warriors and the Alchemists. Did you ever get any proof?”

It took him several moments to tune back into the conversation. “No. I tried. I even
got cozy with the Warriors for a while—that’s how I met Clarence. My group has found
a few dark secrets about the Alchemists and saved other Moroi from the Warriors, but
we were never able to make a connection between the two groups.” He paused dramatically.
“Until now.”

I picked up the next ball. This mundane activity was helping me analyze his startling
words. “What happened?”

“It was a fluke, really. We’ve got a guy working with us now who just left the Alchemists
and broke his tattoo,” he explained. He said it like it was no big deal, but I still
couldn’t shake how uneasy “breaking the tattoo” made me feel. “He’d overheard something
that matched up to something Sabrina uncovered. Now we’ve just got to get the evidence
linking it all.”