about my dreams, I could feel him pull back. Maybe only for a second or two. Maybe only a fraction. It was almost as if he was afraid of what I would see next.
But it was obvious what had gone down with Jessica still lingered between us.
But Victoria … I’d told her everything, even things my gran had warned me to never speak of. I’d shared my dreams, my mistakes. She even knew about the guy who’d dragged me from the river and given me his breath, only to vanish a few hours later.
Dylan.
“Come on, Trin,” Victoria said from behind me. “What can it hurt?”
Slowly I turned, my breath jamming in my throat just as it had that night we’d stepped into the darkness of the abandoned mansion. Open door number one, I remembered thinking; open door number two.
Life was about choices.
Months had gone by. Nothing else had happened. Nothing too freaky, anyway. Just dreams. Chase and I were—
I didn’t know what we were. But we were more than we’d been before and when he smiled at me, when he touched me, my heart sang.
It was time to let go of the past. It was time to realize dreams could be just dreams, and games could be just games.
Victoria was right.
What could it hurt?
* * *
Ten minutes later, she scattered white granules around my aunt’s worktable.
“What’s that? Sugar?”
“Sea salt.” One circle complete, she started a second. “Julian says it’ll keep bad spirits away.”
He would know. Secret powers and hidden ability were his thing—which in a city like New Orleans, made him a rock star.
“Go ahead and light the candle,” she instructed.
Outside the rain slashed in unrelenting sheets. Everyone said this was normal, but for me, winter meant snow.
“He recommended sage,” Victoria said as I extended my aunt’s Zippo. “It’s supposed to be cleansing.”
Candle lit, I stepped back. With the windows closed and the space heater off, the flame flashed high, shooting little white sparks as it burned through the wax.
Then lightning speared in, and the room went dark.
TWO
Victoria looked up from a handful of crystals, the candlelight making the green of her eyes glow. “Wicked cool.”
But the vibration humming through me was anything but. Not sure what was going on, I glanced around the small area that had once been a bedroom. Aunt Sara had a mini-fridge and microwave along the back, with stacks of boxes and crates lining the sides. We’d painted the main shop a pretty … sage.
Um, yeah. I tried not to read anything into that.
Here in the back room, a dark cranberry covered the walls, almost like—blood. Aunt Sara had seen no reason to repaint. She’d said it had energy.
Slipping on my hoodie, I joined Victoria at the table. She’d cleared the laptop and paper cutter, the tackle boxes filled with pliers and wire cutters, tweezers and clasps and other tools for making jewelry. Now, the Ouija board sat dead center.
She glanced up. Her hair hung like a pale curtain on either side of her face, making her look very much like the ethereal creature Deuce claimed her to be. Angel.
I sat across from her. Our knees touched. Julian said that was important. Then she reached for my hands—and the blast of heat blew me away.
“Whatever you do, don’t let the pointer thingie off the board,” she said. “And never, ever let it go to all four corners—or let go without saying good-bye.
“Angel of Protection,” she then whispered, and with the words, everything else dropped away, “my guardian dear, to whom pure love commits me here.”
My breath turned shallow.
“Ever this night, be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide.”
A heaviness spread through me, much like the night I’d walked into that horrible room with the dirty mattresses arranged as an altar.
“Okay.” As when she flirted with Trey, Victoria’s smile was part nervous, part excited. “Here we go.” Releasing my hand, she drew my right index finger to the pointer positioned
But it was obvious what had gone down with Jessica still lingered between us.
But Victoria … I’d told her everything, even things my gran had warned me to never speak of. I’d shared my dreams, my mistakes. She even knew about the guy who’d dragged me from the river and given me his breath, only to vanish a few hours later.
Dylan.
“Come on, Trin,” Victoria said from behind me. “What can it hurt?”
Slowly I turned, my breath jamming in my throat just as it had that night we’d stepped into the darkness of the abandoned mansion. Open door number one, I remembered thinking; open door number two.
Life was about choices.
Months had gone by. Nothing else had happened. Nothing too freaky, anyway. Just dreams. Chase and I were—
I didn’t know what we were. But we were more than we’d been before and when he smiled at me, when he touched me, my heart sang.
It was time to let go of the past. It was time to realize dreams could be just dreams, and games could be just games.
Victoria was right.
What could it hurt?
* * *
Ten minutes later, she scattered white granules around my aunt’s worktable.
“What’s that? Sugar?”
“Sea salt.” One circle complete, she started a second. “Julian says it’ll keep bad spirits away.”
He would know. Secret powers and hidden ability were his thing—which in a city like New Orleans, made him a rock star.
“Go ahead and light the candle,” she instructed.
Outside the rain slashed in unrelenting sheets. Everyone said this was normal, but for me, winter meant snow.
“He recommended sage,” Victoria said as I extended my aunt’s Zippo. “It’s supposed to be cleansing.”
Candle lit, I stepped back. With the windows closed and the space heater off, the flame flashed high, shooting little white sparks as it burned through the wax.
Then lightning speared in, and the room went dark.
TWO
Victoria looked up from a handful of crystals, the candlelight making the green of her eyes glow. “Wicked cool.”
But the vibration humming through me was anything but. Not sure what was going on, I glanced around the small area that had once been a bedroom. Aunt Sara had a mini-fridge and microwave along the back, with stacks of boxes and crates lining the sides. We’d painted the main shop a pretty … sage.
Um, yeah. I tried not to read anything into that.
Here in the back room, a dark cranberry covered the walls, almost like—blood. Aunt Sara had seen no reason to repaint. She’d said it had energy.
Slipping on my hoodie, I joined Victoria at the table. She’d cleared the laptop and paper cutter, the tackle boxes filled with pliers and wire cutters, tweezers and clasps and other tools for making jewelry. Now, the Ouija board sat dead center.
She glanced up. Her hair hung like a pale curtain on either side of her face, making her look very much like the ethereal creature Deuce claimed her to be. Angel.
I sat across from her. Our knees touched. Julian said that was important. Then she reached for my hands—and the blast of heat blew me away.
“Whatever you do, don’t let the pointer thingie off the board,” she said. “And never, ever let it go to all four corners—or let go without saying good-bye.
“Angel of Protection,” she then whispered, and with the words, everything else dropped away, “my guardian dear, to whom pure love commits me here.”
My breath turned shallow.
“Ever this night, be at my side, to light and guard, to rule and guide.”
A heaviness spread through me, much like the night I’d walked into that horrible room with the dirty mattresses arranged as an altar.
“Okay.” As when she flirted with Trey, Victoria’s smile was part nervous, part excited. “Here we go.” Releasing my hand, she drew my right index finger to the pointer positioned
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