Ashes to Ashes -
: Chapter 65
I DRIVE A MILLION MILES AN HOUR TO T-TOWN. Dad and Pat are back working in the garage, the hatch door lifted high. They see my headlights bounce up the driveway, and they wander out.
Dad flops a rag over his shoulder. “Kat? Why are you back so soon?”
I don’t answer him. I just run as fast as I can to my room and grab Aunt Bette’s books, the candles, the spices, and the salts, and the rest of the shit we used on Mary. I throw it all into my book bag. Just in case. I have no idea what we might need, or if any of it will work if our spell is broken.
I glance at the clock on my way out. God, I really hope this is a false alarm.
When I’m back outside, I replace Pat blocking my car door, arms folded. “What’s going on?”
“Move, Pat!”
“Come on. Just tell me—”
“Move!” I push him out of the way, which isn’t easy in heels and a prom dress. He tries to stand his ground, and we wrestle for a second, but then Pat must see that I am so not fucking around right now, because he steps back.
“Okay, okay.”
I jump into my car, put it in reverse, and hit the gas so fast, the tires spin smoke. Then I’m flying down the street, Dad and Pat left bewildered in my taillights. I drive, drive as fast as this piece-of-shit car will go, across Jar Island to Middlebury. The movie theater, Java Jones, all the tourists are colored streaks out my window.
A few minutes later I pull into Mary’s driveway. Her house is as dark as the sky. I hike up my dress and tiptoe through the moonlit yard, on high alert, glancing around.
Is Mary here? Is she watching me right now? Or maybe Lillia was wrong. Maybe she didn’t break the spell.
The crickets and my pounding heart are the only noises until, far off in the distance, the ferry horn sounds. I stand underneath Mary’s bedroom window and wait for her to come, like she did once before. When she doesn’t, I get this feeling, this sick-ass feeling that someone’s going to get hurt tonight.
Maybe Reeve.
Or maybe us. Me and Lillia. Mary knows what we’ve done, that we tried to cage her spirit. I hold tight to my bag. I’ve got to fix this, or we’re all done for.
I walk through the front door. Though it’s dark, I can see that Lillia’s necklace is gone, the salt disturbed. Every door we bound shut upstairs has been opened wide.
I go into Mary’s bedroom, fall to my knees, and unzip my bag. With trembling hands I set out the candles and start lighting them with my Zippo so I can see. And then I open one of the spell books and try to figure out what the fuck to do.
Then the moonlight disappears and an icy wind blows through the room. The candles flicker out, and I feel so, so, so cold, colder than the coldest winter day. I relight my Zippo to start over and I nearly scream when the glow falls on Mary, sitting on her windowsill, staring down at me with accusing eyes.
“If at first you don’t succeed . . . quit and try something else?” she says.
My mouth drops open. The wick of the candle sends up twirls of gray smoke. I squeeze my hand tight around my lighter.
“You almost had me. I’ll give you an A for effort.”
I fall to the floor and frantically flip through the book.
Mary makes a movement with her arm, and the spell book flies across the room, away from me. And then she holds up Lillia’s necklace. “Too bad Lillia didn’t keep up her end of the bargain.”
I quickly bring out the lighter and rub my thumb over the metal wheel a couple times. Finally the flint sparks into a flame. As soon as it does, I go flying backward and slam into the wall with the force of a truck. Then gravity pulls me down into a crumpled heap on the hardwood floor.
Mary hops down from the windowsill, and she lands on the floor in her bare feet. I slowly lift my head as much as I can, but my entire body is wrecked and throbbing. My lighter has slid across the floor and is now near where I have the spell book open. I crawl on my belly toward it, squinting my eyes to try to push away the pain. When I’m close, I reach my arm out as long as I can and try to grab it. My fingertips just graze the lighter. But as soon as I make contact, Mary raises her arm and lifts me right up off the floor again.
“Stop doing that! Why aren’t you listening to me?” She flings me against the wall another time. I can hear the plaster crack, or maybe it’s my bones.
I cough and gasp for breath, the wind entirely knocked out of me. When I open my eyes, the whole room is a watery blur. I grit my teeth and try to get to my knees. I can’t see where Mary is, but I plead with her anyway. “This isn’t you, Mary. You’re not like this.” Finally my vision sharpens and the spell book and my bag come back into focus across the room. I crawl toward it, gasping for breath. “Let us help you.”
Mary steps between me and the candles. “Lillia is still in love with Reeve. He’s all she cares about. That’s why the spell was broken, that’s why she’s on a ferry with him right now, saving him and leaving you to die right here, right now.” She spins around and lifts her arm. The rest of my stuff falls out of the bag. The salt and the lavender fly around the room, the candles roll in opposite directions. I keep crawling, but then I feel myself being lifted up again.
And then everything goes black.
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