I scoffed and stared at her. This was all too surreal. Witches and faeries? What was next, the Easter Bunny?

  “I told you, you weren’t ready to believe.” She stood up from the table.

  I panicked and reached for her. “Wait.”

  She hesitated at the corner of the table, expecting me to say something.

  “What does this have to do with what’s happening with my sister?”

  Lilura took a deep breath and let it out. The stench of tea filled the air between us. “Your sister is a Vila as well. Who do you think filled your house with smoke? I assume she was trying to protect herself from something. But she’s not being careful. Harnessing the power you have when you’re young and naïve and don’t know any better brings minimal risk. But once you turn seventeen, it can be deadly.”

  I shook my head. “Why?”

  “Because of the curse.”

  “Curse?”

  “Yes. The Reaper’s Rite.”

  I could only stare at her for a moment. “Reaper? As in the Grim Reaper?”

  “Ding dong.” She gestured in the air as if she was ringing a bell. “So you’re not totally clueless after all.”

  I thought about what Mara had said as she was scrunched up in the yard, rocking back and forth with the look of terror in her eyes. He’s coming for me. The figure under the tree. A man, or was it a tall boy? Suddenly the shape I’d seen seemed familiar.

  “Is Chase a Reaper?” I asked, pausing between each word.

  Lilura grunted and waved a dismissive hand at me. “Forget what I said. You’re completely oblivious.” She grabbed her tea cup and hobbled toward the kitchen.

  Okay, so there went that theory. But deep inside I felt relieved that the boy who sat near me in History class wasn’t some soul-sucking creature. Besides, if he was a Reaper, why would he tell Lilura about the smoke coming from my house? From what I understood, a Reaper was associated with death. A Reaper would have let the house burn down so he could collect some souls. At least, that’s what I’d imagine he’d want.

  I followed Lilura into the kitchen. My eyes needed a moment to adjust to the lemony yellow walls and faded yellow cabinets, in two shades that didn’t match at all.

  “What is this curse? This … Reaper’s Rite?” I rubbed my fingers across the worn pattern of my tea cup.

  “A ritual, quite simply. Where a Reaper collects what’s due to him. The soul of a Vila. But you disrupted the Rite.”

  “How?” I didn’t understand anything she was saying, but maybe if I talked through it, it might start to make sense. “If there’s some curse on my sister, isn’t there a way to break it?”

  “The best way is to stop it before it begins.”

  She might as well have been speaking a different language, for all the sense she was making. “I don’t understand.”

  “The problem,” she said, snatching my cup away, “is that your mother never told you what was happening.”

  I froze. “My mother? What do you know about my mother? What does she have to do with this?”

  “It’s her bloodline. Boy, you are clueless, aren’t you? I’m surprised you didn’t fall on your head on the way over here.”

  This was getting more confusing by the second. I tried to put the pieces together, but the jigsaw in my mind was a collage of mismatched mush.

  “It’s why she lost her mind,” Lilura said.

  I sucked in a breath. “How do you know about that?”

  She scratched her hip and shrugged. “I’ve lived here a long time.”

  Part of me wanted to run away, to cover my ears and hum, to punch her in that too-square head of hers, anything to avoid hearing what she was telling me. But another part of me thirsted for the truth, no matter how bizarre.

  “The smart thing would have been to tell you girls what was going on,” she said. “Hell, the smart thing would have been to come to me in the first place. But she was careless with her power. Greedy. Stupid. She could have brought down the whole neighborhood with her idiocy. And now she’s gone and got herself locked up in a loony bin.”

  Anger overcame everything else I was feeling. My ears burned. I clenched my fists at my sides. “This was a mistake.”

  She didn’t say anything. She merely looked at me sideways, her face tilted away from me, one eye stretched wider than the other.

  “I don’t want to hear any more of your weird stories. I shouldn’t have come.”

  I turned and marched out of the kitchen, through the front room, and out the front door. Her cat escaped from the house before the screen door shut, but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to get far, far away from the freak show that was Lilura Black.

  Chapter Ten

  Vila? Reapers? I scolded myself silently for even going to Lilura’s house. Trusting a cranky, tea-leaf-reading old woman … what was I thinking?

  As I stormed down her front walk, I ran right into Chase. He locked his gray eyes with mine. I growled and stepped around him.

  “Zadie.”

  I kept stomping toward the sidewalk.

  “Zadie, stop.” His hand latched onto my shoulder. I shrugged it off and turned abruptly to face him.

  “Your grandmother is a nut job. A rude nut job.”

  “Hey!”

  “What? She’s allowed to insult my mother, but I can’t voice my opinion about her?”

  He stepped closer to me. “I guess she told you everything. You can’t ignore this.”

  “Um, yes I can. And you want to know why? Because her theory is absurd.”

  “Deep down you know she’s right. Think about the things that have happened in your life. Things out of the ordinary. Things so secret you probably never even shared them with your best friend. My grandmother’s not crazy.”

  I clicked my tongue and tried to avoid looking him in the eye. It wasn’t working. “Yeah? What do you know?”

  “I know more than you do.”

  I glared at him. He looked so serious, like he actually believed the Reaper story.

  “I don’t know how she knows things about me,” I said. “Those ‘out of the ordinary’ things. Maybe she’s been stalking me. Maybe your whole family is psychotic or something. But regardless of how she knows, her explanations make no sense at all. I seriously think she made it all up on the spot.”

  Without hesitation, he put his hand on my arm. “She’s telling the truth. I can prove it.”

  I shook my head. “I can’t trust you. You’re probably as insane as she is. You almost ran me over. For all I know, you’re the reason my house was filled with smoke the other night. You probably threw some smoke bomb in my window and had your grandmother call me just to ruin my night.”

  He dropped his hand from my arm and took a step back. Like I had hurt him or something. He stared at me with cold eyes, his jaw moving like he was grinding his teeth. “Fine. Believe what you want.”

  He swung around and went back toward his house. I groaned to myself and headed home. Why was he always such a jerk?

  Vila hold great powers to manipulate events.

  I couldn’t get Lilura’s words out of my head. I let the word Vila roll over my tongue a few times, wondering if, just maybe, any of it was actually possible. I knew I could sometimes make things happen—sometimes on accident and sometimes on purpose. I knew that I felt a power surge through my body when I willed things to take place. But was I really half-witch, half-faery? Those were just myths, old folk tales to entertain children. Weren’t they?

  Eight blocks later, I walked into my quiet house. No one was downstairs. I punched the blinking light on the answering machine and shifted items around in the fridge while Dad’s recorded voice apologized for working late on a Sunday. I decided I was too tired to be hungry. And still too mad to eat. Flicking off the kitchen light, I headed upstairs.

  Halfway up the stairs, my phone vibrated. When I saw the text message, I almost tripped over my own feet. I stopped where I was and read the message three times before I let myself believe my eyes.

  Had fun Friday night. See you tomorrow. Gavin

  In three seconds flat, I went from enraged to elated. My smile extended to touch my ears. Naomi must have given him my number. She hadn’t said anything about it when I returned her car. I bet she hadn’t wanted to get my hopes up in case Gavin never called.

  I stood there, halfway between the first and second floors, with my finger hovering above my phone’s screen. I bit my lip and debated replying. What would I say? And if I found the perfect words, would he write back? I envisioned a scenario where Gavin and I stayed up all night texting each other. I let out a small giggle. But my finger remained just above my phone, the words failing to come to me. In the end, I chickened out and continued up the stairs.

  I was sure I’d know what to say to him after a good night’s sleep. I read the message again, scrutinizing every word over and over. He’d had fun with me; that had to mean he’d like to go on another date. This time with no interruptions to cut it short. Maybe he’d ask me to the Fairmont drive-in. Now I had something to look forward to instead of dreading Monday morning and Mara’s return to school.

  Mara. Mara would be back at school tomorrow. Was she ready for that? Was I ready to handle people looking at her like she’d returned from the dead? I decided to check on her. Maybe she would actually talk to me.

  “Mara?”

  Her door was cracked, flickering candlelight illuminating the frame. I slowed, wondering why she had lit candles in her room. I heard a small sound, a tiny lyrical noise coming from inside her bedroom. My chest felt heavy. I eased the door open and peeked inside.

  Mara was crouched in the corner, her knees pulled against her chest, surrounded by a crude semi-circle of flickering candles. She was humming, creepy and off-key. It wasn’t a tune I recognized.

  I took tentative steps into the room. “Mara, what are you doing?”

  The humming continued. I wondered if she even heard me.

  Lilura’s words haunted me. The curse. The Reaper’s Rite. The other night, Mara had said someone was coming for her. Was there really someone—or something—after my sister? Was she sitting in the corner hiding or trying to protect herself?

  I turned away from my sister and headed toward the door. Before I reached it, it slammed shut. I stared at the door, my heart thundering in my chest. Mara’s eerie song floated in the air, prompting me to turn and face her.

  “Mara?” I whispered. I didn’t know what I was going to say, but I had to try. “You … you don’t have to be afraid. You’re not alone. I can help you. I know what it’s like.”

  She stopped humming, jerked her head up, and locked her wide eyes with mine.

  “Oh, really? He’s pissed and it’s because of something you did!”

  Suddenly, the flames from the candles shot up in straight lines, tickling the ceiling and casting the room in a menacing glow. Mara sat unmoving. Her shadow morphed on the wall behind her, the dark pattern swelling like a macabre shadow puppet, until I stared at the silhouette of a hooded creature carrying a spear. I knew it was impossible, but I felt the shadow turn and look at me. It swept its spear across the violet walls. No, not a spear. A scythe.

  A scream stuck in my throat. I ran to the door and turned the knob, my hand slipping from it a few times as panic overtook me. I glanced over my shoulder. The flames slowly sank back to their original size. Mara’s gaze slipped to the floor, and she began to hum again. This time my grip was better, and I threw the door open and ran to my room.

  I slammed and locked my door, pushing my back against it. Tears stung my eyes as I slid down to the floor. Eventually, the sound of my sobs drowned out Mara’s humming, and my tears blurred out the vision of moving shadows.

  Chapter Eleven

  I spent the morning on edge. I had just finished my juice when Mara came down the stairs. Her hair was shiny and styled, the scar on her scalp hidden completely. She wore a cheery blue top, skin-tight jeans, bangles, and ballerina pumps. She looked completely normal and completely gorgeous. Oh, and she was smiling.

  So not the Mara I’d seen last night.

  “Morning,” she said, kissing Dad’s head as she walked by the table.

  I glanced at Dad and shifted in my chair, waiting for his reaction.

  “Wow, Mara.” Dad stuck a file in his briefcase. “You’re in a good mood.”

  “I’m so ready to see my friends again.” She tipped back her juice and set the empty glass by the sink. She didn’t look at me. “I think I’ve finally got my energy back.”

  “Do you? That’s great to hear.” Dad smiled at her and rubbed his chin. “I was worried it might be too soon, but I guess kids really do bounce back fast.”

  “Only the awesome ones,” Mara said.

  He nodded, as if reassuring himself, then stood to put his coffee cup on the counter.

  Mara giggled as she grabbed her school books from the table. “Zadie?” She turned to me, and her smile disappeared. When Dad walked between us to grab his suitcase, her smile returned. “I’ll wait at the door.”

  Dad put a hand on my arm once Mara was out of the kitchen. “Keep an eye on her, will you?”

  I studied his face. Lines deepened the corners of his eyes. “I will, Dad.”

  “Thanks, Zadie. I know you’re not in the same classes, but I’d feel better if you could stick to her like glue whenever you can. I’m not exactly comfortable with her going back this soon, especially since she hasn’t seen the psychiatrist yet.”

  I covered his hand with mine and nodded. A relieved smile materialized, softening his eyes. He tweaked my nose, then left for work.

  After grabbing my backpack, I joined Mara at the front door. “Do you have everything?”

  She shrugged and walked confidently down our front porch without looking back. Biting my lip, I hooked my backpack over my shoulder and followed my sister to school.

  ***

  I wasn’t prepared for the squeals of ecstatic upperclassmen when I walked into school, two steps behind Mara. It was as if a wind of popularity rushed by me, grabbing Mara and sucking her up into its high-pitched tornado. I brushed by a sobbing Emily and went straight to my locker.

  I wanted to ignore them completely, but I had promised Dad I would keep an eye on Mara. Just in case. I was worried about her too, but for different reasons than he was.

  “That won’t get annoying,” Naomi said to me as she threw her books in her locker.

  I shook my head. “I should have played sick.”

  Naomi linked her arm with mine, and we started down the hall. “Remember Secret Santa back in fifth grade?”

  A smile touched my lips. “Yeah. Bradley Cantrell picked my name. Everyone else got necklaces and trading cards and books.”

  “And he gave you a bottle of Fanta.”

  We both cracked up at the memory.

  “We called him Fanta Claus from then on.”

  “Oh, man. That was absolutely the lamest present I ever got.” I glanced at her and stopped walking. “And you brought up that completely random story why?”

  She motioned over her shoulder at Mara and Emily. “Some people have absolutely no clue how to treat others. There’s something wrong with the way their brains function. So don’t let them get to you.”

  I glanced at the swarm surrounding Mara. A flash of blond hair moved forward in the crowd. I froze in place as Luke approached my sister. Naomi tugged on my arm, but even she couldn’t resist staring as a hush came over the crowd. Luke mumbled something to Mara, and she turned her nose up at him.

  “Whatever you have to say, you can say in front of my friends,” she told him.

  I couldn’t look away. Luke’s head hung down as he mumbled something else to her. Kelly and Nicole had their hands over their mouths in disbelief. Emily narrowed her eyes at Luke as he spoke.

  “Why should I be mad at you?” Mara said, her smile wicked. “You’re nothing to me.”

  The crowd gasped, making the sounds onlookers were supposed to make when someone was put in their place. A cruel blush tainted Luke’s neck, stretching out until it had a firm grasp on his cheeks. His eyes darted everywhere as he left the scene.

  “I just had a fabulous idea.” Emily grabbed Mara’s hands. “A welcome-home sleepover at my house Friday night.”

  The squeals started up again. Mara smiled and nodded at Emily, but her level of enthusiasm didn’t quite match the rest of the clique. Emily linked arms with Mara and together they marched down the hall.

  “Let’s get to class,” I said to Naomi. My promise to my father replayed in my head. I hoped his stick-to-her-like-glue request didn’t extend outside of the school day.

  Mara’s return was big news I couldn’t escape. I heard her name mentioned in conversations as I walked the halls. Some freshmen put up a “Welcome Back, Mara” banner near the auditorium. Just when I thought I couldn’t feel more suffocated, I was greeted by an icy stare in History class. Chase sat at his desk, leaning back in his chair as if he was too tall to fit in such a small space. I averted my eyes and dropped into my seat, hoping the lesson would start before Chase had a chance to say anything to me. I felt his creepy, disapproving stare on the back of my head during the entire class. As soon as the period was over I ran from the classroom.

  My stomach had been fighting inner battles with me all morning, so when Naomi and I got to the cafeteria, I went straight to the lunch line in an attempt to calm my gut with some comfort food. As I slid my tray along the metal counter, someone tapped my shoulder. When I glanced over that shoulder, no one was there. I swiveled my head in the other direction, and found myself facing a rose made from a paper napkin. Gavin smiled at me from behind the flower. I tried not to giggle like an idiot.

  “Pretty smooth.” I took the faux rose, then held it to my nose for a second. I looked up at him. “You made this?”

  He shrugged. “My mom is into arts and crafts. Her idea of spending time with me is teaching me paper-mache and origami.”

  “Fun,” I teased, grabbing a bottled water from the lunch line. He followed me.