Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

GWEN

T he river bubbled cheerfully along Main Street. It was Monday and I didn't have a shift after school, so Luke and I strolled hand-in-hand, perusing shop windows, warmed by the afternoon sun. The scene was so wholesome, it tempted me to forget the seriously messed up magic I'd done in the cemetery two nights ago. But I couldn't. Images of Thomas's terrified face had tormented me since that night. Luke had been casual with me—gentle, even. I knew he was waiting for me to bring up the subject of malevolent magic on my own terms, and it was driving me crazy.

Finally, as we passed the artisanal dog treat shop, I blurted, "Are we gonna talk about what I did to Thomas Fitzgerald or what?"

"Okay," he replied. "I'll start by saying thanks. You saved me from getting my face smashed in. You're my hero."

"And?" I was expecting— hoping —for some sort of reckoning.

"And maybe the next time he wants to harass a girl for fun, he'll think twice. If you ask me, you did the world a favor."

I thought of all the skeezy things Thomas had done over the years, wondering if Luke had a point. I didn't think Thomas or any of the Mundanes fully understood what had happened to him. But today at school, when he spied me across the quad, he booked it in the other direction. I had to admit that it felt good. Unfortunately, Valeria and the rest of the coven kept their distance when they saw me, too, their eyes narrow with mistrust.

"Okay, maybe Thomas deserved a good scare. But still, I discovered I have malevolent magic. Malevolent, as in evil." I paused, afraid to voice my next thought aloud. "It makes me wonder if there's something wrong with me."

Valeria had said malevolent magic came from anger, hatred. She was right. I'd felt it in my core. It had drained me to pull all that negativity into the world, as if the universe itself had pushed back against it. After I'd controlled Thomas, I'd been exhausted, barely able to drag myself into bed. All night, I could feel the magic still humming in my veins, haunting my dreams. If malevolent magic ran in families, Elizabeth Foster must have had this power too. Was that why the coven had revoked her magic?

Luke stopped suddenly, pulling me to a halt. "If you're waiting for me to tell you you're a horrible person because you have this power, keep on waiting. It's never gonna happen."

"But the Book of Shadows says?—"

"The book says that inside every witch, there is good and evil. We all have darkness within us. You just happen to have the ability to use your darkness in a powerful way. That doesn't make you some kind of villain."

"I'm not sure Valeria would agree," I said bitterly.

Could I blame her? Malevolent magic had killed Petra. The moment I controlled Thomas, everything had changed between us. Any amends we'd made were broken now; her suspicion hovered over us like a dark cloud. I'd seen her face that night—she'd actually been afraid of me. I was embarrassed by how much it hurt to see her look at me that way.

"Give Valeria time," Luke said. "She might come around. She said herself there are two types of malevolent magic—the one that controls the Mundanes, and the one that kills. You don't have the killing kind, you have the…persuasive kind."

"She's not making that distinction right now. Think about it. All the coven's problems began when I showed up. Now that she knows I have this power, how do I come back from that?"

Luke brushed a stray hair from my cheek. "Do you remember what I said to you when you were afraid to dance at homecoming?"

"Screw 'em."

"That's right. Maybe Valeria doesn't trust you, but I do."

"Despite my freaky mind-control magic?"

His expression grew serious. His fingers cupped my cheek, tilting my face toward his, our lips almost touching. "With my life."

Luke's eyes drew me in, holding me in some secret, safe place. As long as he looked at me like that, maybe everything really would be all right. Sunlight touched the sharp, exquisite angles of his face. I had the urge to tangle my fingers in his dark hair, to feel the stubble on his cheeks, the warmth of his skin. So I did.

"What are you doing?" he asked with unbothered curiosity.

"Just making sure you're real."

He laughed. "You're crazy, you know that?"

He pulled me to him, but as our lips met, a grim thought played in my mind.

Perhaps I'm crazier than you think.

We got coffees to go and continued down Main Street. With Luke's arm around me and the music of the river in my ears, it was easier to let the worry go. We passed the shops I used to kill time in when I wanted to be anywhere but home. As we approached Larkspur, I cringed as I recalled my failed attempt to buy a homecoming dress there. Our fitting rooms are for paying customers only. I'm sure you understand. I could still hear the condescension in the shop clerk's voice, feel her uneasy gaze travel over my dirty clothes and scuffed-up shoes. And, like a fool with five hundred dollars in my pocket, I had shuffled away without a contradictory word.

A dress in the window caught my eye, and before I realized it, I'd stopped in my tracks to take it in fully. The top was sheer, with delicate scallops adorning the deep neckline. When I looked closer at the intricate lace pattern, I could make out roses and vines and leaves and thorns spreading across the bodice. The skirt was full, made of layers of light, gauzy fabric. It was black from head to toe, a rich midnight color that seemed to take on new dimensions depending on the way the light hit it. Its beauty made my eyes water.

"See something you like?"

"Huh?" I replied.

"That dress." Luke pointed at the window. "You love it, don't you?"

"No," I lied. "I mean, sure, it's beautiful, but?—"

"And it would be beautiful on you," he added.

I could tell by looking at it that it would fit like it had been made for me. Luke knew it too. I could sense him picturing it on me. The idea made my cheeks flush.

"When would I ever wear something like that?" I protested.

"Oh, I'm sure we can find an occasion." A sly grin tugged at one corner of his lips.

I took a breath as dread gathered in the pit of my stomach. I knew where this was going.

"Don't buy it for me," I pleaded. " Please don't buy it for me."

He took my hand, and before I knew it, he was pulling me into the shop. The little bell above the door tinkled with artificial cheer. Great. I had already been treated like a leper in this establishment; now I was about to become a charity case here too. I was still putting most of my Diggin's salary toward any bills my dad couldn't pay, and the rest I was saving for college, or whatever the future held beyond this town. There was nothing leftover for raven-colored formalwear.

The woman behind the counter looked as austere as the last time I'd seen her, her hair pulled into an identically tight bun. She glanced up when we entered and grinned at Luke, but when she saw me, recognition passed over her face and her smile faded. I watched her small brown eyes dart over my new clothes, my hand in Luke's. For just a second, she let her surprise show, then her expression quickly rearranged itself into placid congeniality.

"Welcome in," she chirped.

Luke pointed to the dress. "How much is that one?"

She looked at us with a straight face and said, "Ten-fifty."

It took me a moment to realize she meant one thousand and fifty whole dollars. I tugged on Luke's hand. "Forget it," I whispered, hoping she couldn't hear. "Let's go."

"It's okay to let someone do something nice for you for a change," he said. "You deserve it."

I sighed, feeling myself waver. One moment of hesitation was all he needed. Before I could speak, he called to the clerk, a mischievous spark in his eyes.

"I'll take it!"

She arched an eyebrow. Luke didn't seem to notice, but I understood immediately. She wasn't questioning his ability to pay for the gown—she was wondering why he would buy such an extravagant thing for me. My cheeks burning with humiliation, I watched her zip the dress into a garment bag. Luke pulled a credit card from his wallet and handed it to her. She took it smugly, but as she was about to run it through the card reader, something inside me boiled over.

I wouldn't let him give this sniveling woman any money on my behalf. Why should I? After she'd treated me like some cheap, tarnished thing that didn't belong in her presence?

I knew I shouldn't use my magic. But the power was stirring inside me, rising with every beat of my heart.

"Wait," I commanded. I let the spell spread toward her like a spider's web, wrapping itself around her silly little mind.

She stopped what she was doing, her hand suspended over the cash register, her air of superiority evaporating.

"He's not going to pay for that dress." I told her. "Because you're going to give it to me. Now."

Her fingers began to tremble. Luke's card fell from her loosened grip and tumbled onto the counter, but she didn't seem to notice. Her eyes stared into mine, the pupils wide. She slid the garment bag toward me, her breathing rapid like a nervous animal, but she didn't struggle. In a few moments, it would all be over, and she'd rub her temples and wonder what had come over her. I smiled a cool, hospitable smile.

"Thanks," I said. "And the next time a lost soul wanders in here looking for a place to exist for a while, leave them be."

We left the shop, breathless but exhilarated. My body hummed with the thrill of what I'd just done. Luke felt it too. His wild laughter echoed down the street as we hurried away.

"You never cease to amaze me!" he exclaimed. "That was crazy, but I gotta say, it was pretty hot."

He spun me once before wrapping his arms around me. I could practically feel his heart pounding through his skin as he drew me close. We kissed in the middle of the sidewalk as the downtown shoppers passed around us. In one hand, I clutched the bag that contained the most beautiful dress I'd ever seen. It's mine, I thought. No one bought it for me. I took it because I wanted it. A headache was shooting its way through my temple and my knees were weak, but I didn't care.

"I used to think I'd be the one to get you into trouble, Gwen Foster," he said. "But now it looks like you just might lead me down the path to ruin."

He said it with a smile, but I felt the disturbing truth to his words. A voice in my head told me to worry, to retreat to my room and guilt-trip myself into never using this magic again. But I didn't want to do any of that. I wanted to shout, to run down the street with my arms open wide. For once in my life, to take what I desired. I wanted this power forever. I wanted Luke forever. Why should I deny myself now? I'd had a lifetime of denial.

I was suddenly consumed by the urge to go fast. To fly down this street and keep moving for as long as I could. I clutched the bag to my chest and started walking.

"Where are you going?" Luke called, rushing after me.

"I don't know," I replied, quickening my pace. "Down the path to ruin. Wanna come?"

He took my hand, but I stayed a few steps ahead of him as we made our way up Main Street. The magic coursed through my veins, hot and restless. My hurried steps pounded on the pavement. As we crossed 15th Street, a well-dressed man was getting out of a shiny new convertible. I could sense the power contained in its engine. I thought of Luke's car parked up the street. I could ask him to take me anywhere—to the ocean, the redwoods. But that wasn't good enough. I wanted to be in the driver's seat.

"Hey!" I called to the man, the harsh sound of my own voice startling me.

The man was middle-aged with a graying comb-over. He looked at me in surprise.

"I need your car," I told him. Even as my headache grew sharper, I felt the same unmistakable thrill I'd felt with the shop clerk. I was about to take control.

"Wh-what?" the man stammered.

"Gimme the keys."

It was easy to hold his mind in mine, practically automatic. He fished them from his pocket with a trembling hand and gave them to me.

"That's all," I told him. "You can go now."

And he did. The point between my eyebrows seemed to sing with pain, but the pain made a pretty halo in my vision. I couldn't stop now. I wanted the wind in my hair.

"Can't say I pictured you as a car thief," Luke said as I slid into the leather seat.

I heard his words, but it didn't feel like stealing. Right now, everything in the world felt like it was mine. I threw the garment bag in the back and turned the key in the ignition. The engine hummed to life. I grinned at Luke, the halo of pain framing his face. He was gorgeous.

"Get in," I said wryly. "I'm driving."

He shook his head at me in disbelief, but there was more than a hint of a smile on his lips.

"You might be the death of me, baby," he replied, "but what a way to go."

He got in beside me and I pressed on the gas. The car jolted forward, and I didn't let up. Soon, we were doing sixty down Main Street as people on the sidewalks stared. Let them, I thought. I pressed harder on the accelerator as the buildings thinned, giving way to open land. I didn't know where I was taking us; I just let the noise of the wind fill my ears, silencing my doubts. I felt the weight of the magic like something too heavy in my hands. I knew I couldn't hold it much longer. But for now, the air smelled of flowers and green things. The top was down, and the sun was warm.

About twenty miles out of town, I pulled over, exhausted. My temples throbbed as if gripped by some cruel hand. Luke drove us back to town as I slept on his shoulder. We left the car where we'd found it with the keys in the glove box, then he took me home. He kissed me gently in the driveway before pulling away.

All I could think of was sleep. I squinted hard against the light.

I entered my living room, clutching the black garment bag that held my dress. My dad sat at the coffee table, counting a few crumpled dollar bills.

"You're back early today—" I must have looked bad because he stood up, forgetting the money on the table. "Gwen, what's wrong? You were out with that boy, weren't you? That rich kid from Cascabel Road. I've seen him drop you off here a dozen times now. Did he do something to you?" The worry in his voice surprised me.

"No—I mean, yes, I was out with Luke. But he didn't do anything. I just—" I sighed. "I got a headache. He took me home."

My knees trembled, and I steadied myself against the doorframe.

"Well, come on, then," he said.

He draped one of my arms over his shoulder and walked me to my bedroom. As I collapsed on the bed, he shut the curtains. I couldn't remember the last time my dad had taken care of me and not the other way around. I was vaguely aware of the strangeness of it. My vision blurred and my eyelids sagged, but I thought I saw a dark spot under one of his eyes. A bruise nearly healed.

Guilt piled on top of the pain I already felt. Between the coven and Luke, I hadn't been around as much lately. I came home late at night to find him shivering on the couch, asleep with the window open wide. I slipped out early in the mornings, leaving him to wake in an empty house, no smell of breakfast waiting in the kitchen.

"Dad, are you okay?" I mumbled sleepily.

"What's that?" He pulled a blanket up to my chin.

"Your eye."

"Oh. I owe a guy, but it's nothing you need to worry about. Just rest now, okay?"

"Maybe we don't have to worry about that anymore."

"No," he said quickly. "Don't you offer me the money you're saving. I won't use it, I swear on my life."

"That's not what I meant."

I knew what my power could do now, the control I could hold over the Mundanes. Maybe it was time something in the universe yielded to me instead of the other way around. The thought lingered in the darkness behind my closed eyelids. Then I slept.