The Zodiac Collector Read online

And I’d still have my sister.

  “I’m so stupid.” I barely get the words because I’m sobbing like a baby who’s lost her pacifier.

  William’s warm hands cover my shoulders like a blanket. “It’s not your fault.”

  “Of course it is. This whole spell thing was my idea. Z wouldn’t have gotten her hands on her… None of this would have happened if I had just…” I snort in a breath. So not attractive.

  “It’s okay. Maybe Mary’s just wandered deeper in the woods and can’t hear us…or something.” He rubs his hands up and down my arms. When did he get so perfect?

  “Really?” I sound like a kid who lost her balloon and her dad just told her she could get a new one.

  “Yeah. Let’s retrace our steps. We’ll find her.” He hands his flashlight to Evan. With more confidence than a chivalrous knight, he extends his hands and helps me up. Again, I catch myself staring into his perfect eyes. He smiles, but it’s not a happy one. It’s a gee-I-hope-I’m-right-or-things-really-are-that-bad kind of smile. Not reassuring at all.

  “M-m-maybe the Gemini twins will help us find her.” I wipe fresh tears away.

  “We can try that. What do I need to do to help?” William doesn’t let go of my hands.

  “We need to invoke your sign in order to call on your power.” My mind whirls with words and chants, guilt and pain, and I crumple all over again.

  William presses a hand to my lower back. “Then that’s what we’ll do.” He glances at Evan. “You in?”

  Evan rubs his jaw. Then his gaze locks onto mine. “Tell me what I have to do.”

  “I need supplies.”

  “Like what?” William asks.

  “My spellbook, candles, stardust…everything. It’s all at home.”

  “Your parents will be up.” William shakes that unruly lock of hair from his eyes.

  I check my watch. It’s midnight. “I can sneak in. If Mom’s working…” I leave out drunk as a possibility. “She won’t notice, and Dad will be asleep.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “We have to try. I have to do whatever I can to get my sister back.”

  “Let’s go,” Evan leads the way.

  William walks next to me. His confident, calm energy is an ointment for my wounds. His soft, but firm, grip on my body when he held me up, the way he talked me through my asthma attack, and his unquestioning commitment to helping me find Mary… It could all be in my head, but he’s acting more than best-friendish.

  On the main path, I catch a glint of something shiny at the trail’s edge. It could be anything—a bit of tin foil, a tab from a soda can, or a discarded faire coin. I halt. An invisible wall blocks me from taking another step while a persistent tug jerks the base of my spine. I lift my foot and extend my leg forward. The sensation rockets up to settle in my neck. It drags me back. I have to look again.

  I latch onto Evan’s arm and swing the flashlight toward the way we came. A trinket lies on the ground, nestled in decaying leaves. I pick it up and examine it in the light. Its silver metal is shiny, not dull. One side is smooth, but the other is jagged and sharp, like part of it was broken off. I run my finger on the rough edge and nearly puncture my skin. “Strange.”

  “Looks like the letter I.” William peers over my shoulder. His breath warms my neck.

  I take in a shaky breath and close my eyes for a moment to compose myself. I flip the thing over. It doesn’t have a pin glued on the back and doesn’t have a loop or anything to attach it to a necklace, so it’s probably not jewelry.

  “Any Zodiac symbols look like this?” Evan jabs at the thing with his index finger. Each tap reverberates in my soul like an electric shock. Weird.

  I close my fingers around the symbol. The jolts stop. Double weird. “It could be half of the Gemini symbol.”

  “What does that mean?” Evan stuffs a fist in his pocket.

  “Z chanted a spell that turned Shequan into the Aries symbol. What if…?”

  “What?” William turns his flashlight into my face.

  I swat him away. “What’s the first rule of using a flashlight? Don’t shove it in someone’s face.”

  He snickers. “Sorry. I keep forgetting.”

  I hold the symbol between my thumb and forefinger. It buzzes with some unnatural force. “What if this is Mary?”

  Evan stiffens.

  The vibrations can’t be in my head. I hand it to William. “Take this. Tell me what you feel.”

  His brow furrows, but he accepts it and cradles it in his palm. After staring at it for a full minute, he shakes his head. “Nothing. Why?”

  I pluck it from his hand. The quaking resumes. “Castor and Pollux, what have you done?”

  Lightning flashes and a tearing crack of thunder shatters the night.

  “Whoa.” Evan sounds just like that dude in The Matrix.

  “Is this my sister?” I hold up the symbol, as if showing it to the Gemini twins, like they can see it from the sky. Their constellation isn’t even visible from our position on the planet, but whatever.

  Thunder sweeps overhead. It sounds like an old man grumbling.

  Or twins arguing.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Sure enough, the bay window of Mom’s workroom is open and the whine of an angsty singer streams out. She says music keeps her moving, but really the mania keeps her moving. She doesn’t need any help.

  At least the noise provides some cover so we don’t have to creep up the stairs. I usher William and Evan to the far side of the porch. My gaze falls on the spot I’d first used stardust and made a candle disappear.

  I tug on a loose strand of hair, yanking on stringy thoughts frizzing in my brain. “The stardust worked better when Mary’s blood was mixed in with it.”

  William dips his chin. “Are you serious?”

  “It’s an offering, a sacrifice. If we each add a drop of blood to the dust, we can—”

  “Blood. You need my blood.” Evan collapses on the bench and tightens his hands into fists.

  “Just a drop to mix with the stardust. It works better than everything else I’ve tried.” I tell them about the yellow orbs and how they absorbed into my skin, gifting me with Zodiac power.

  “You said Z gave you the dust. Can you trust it?” William leans his butt against the railing and grips a nearby column. His head taps against a hanging basket of geraniums. He ducks and slides to the side, rubbing his scalp.

  I shrug. “The stardust itself isn’t bad because Mary and I did a good spell with it. Besides, it works, and what other choice do we have?”

  “You promise, just a drop?” Evan chews on his bottom lip.

  I glare at him. “This is for Mary. I thought you cared about her?”

  He shoots to his feet. “I do. Mary’s awesome. She’s smart, pretty, and she laughs at my stupid jokes.” He rubs his spiky hair and licks his lips, as if priming himself for a big reveal. “I’ve never met anyone like her. I only decided to join William on the jousting team so I could see her more at the faire. Pretty lame, huh?”

  My rage flees like a cockroach running from a can of Raid. “It’s not lame at all. In fact, that’s one of the sweetest things I’ve ever heard.”

  He scuffs his foot along a worn floorboard and nods. “Thanks.”

  William clears his throat. The perfect opportunity to jump track and hop onto a new rail of conversation so Evan doesn’t have to stay all exposed and vulnerable under our dissecting stares.

  “So what’s your problem with blood?” I ask.

  He grinds the toe of one shoe to the other. “I…” He gulps.

  “What?”

  “I faint.” He tucks his chin to his chest, then sneaks a peek at me through his eyelashes.

  “Oh.” I’ve heard of blood phobia before. Guess I over-judged. “Well, you can keep your eyes closed.”

  He puffs his cheeks like he might spew. “Uh-huh.”

  William’s eyes are wide. “Dude, I didn’t know you were scared of blood.”

&nb
sp; “Well, it’s not something I like to share.” Evan drops down on the bench.

  It’s time to pull this train into the station, so I carry on. “Once I sneak in and get what I need, we can mix our blood with the stardust, invoke your Zodiac signs, and pool all our powers together to help bring Mary back. It might overwhelm Z. She’ll never see it coming.”

  Evan nods and rubs his stomach.

  “You’re not going to puke, are you?” I retreat a couple steps.

  “No.” He gulps so hard I can hear it.

  “You think calling Libra and Aries will bring Mary back? What about Shequan?” William shifts so his back is against the column and crosses his ankles.

  “I don’t know what else to do…for either one of them.” I chew on a fingernail and pace the length of the porch. Dad paced like this when Mom slashed her wrists last winter. She hadn’t showered in days, so I figured it was weird that she suddenly went into the bathroom. When she didn’t come out after an hour, I checked on her and found her passed out in a tub of bloody water. The straight razor and several empty pill bottles lay scattered across the floor. Mary called 911 while I pressed washcloths against Mom’s cuts. All Dad did was pace. Right now, without Mary, I feel as useless as he was.

  “What if the symbol isn’t Mary?” William gestures to my hand.

  “How can it not be?” I squeeze the thing and almost cut my skin on the jagged edge. It barely weighs anything, but the buzzing is so intense that I struggle to keep my hand steady.

  “Why would Z disappear and leave without Mary?” William asks.

  “Maybe she doesn’t realize she lost the symbol.” I pause. This is my sister I’m talking about. Sweet, level-headed, not the slightest bit interested in magick, Mary. Forced into chanting with me because of my incessant nagging, Mary. Morphed into a one-inch half-Gemini symbol, Mary. I flop on the iron bench next to Evan.

  He slides over a bit to give me space. “Maybe we should call the police?”

  “Yeah, and tell them what? My sister and friend have been turned into Zodiac symbols by a witch?” I tuck my hair behind my ears and bite my lip.

  “Well, she’s been kidnapped. We’re not sure this is her. I mean, how could she be turned into…” Evan points to the little “I.” “This?”

  “We saw what happened to Shequan.” My shoulders slump. He’s starting to flake. After everything he’s done to help William out at the stables, to chum up to Mary, to treat her like a treasure, and he’s drawing a line at sharing a teeny-tiny drop of blood?

  William stands. “You have to tell your parents, Anne.”

  I shoot to my feet and square off with him. “How can you say that? Even if I could get Mom to listen, she’d totally freak out.”

  “What about your dad?”

  I shake my head. “He’d never understand. He barely pays attention to us anyway, and there’s no way he’d believe in magick.”

  The porch light flips on and the front door swings open. Dad peeks his head outside. He’s wearing a blue and gray plaid robe and flip-flops. His hair—what remains of it—is sticking up in several places and his eyelids are droopy. “I thought I heard voices. Hi, William. It’s a little late for you to be here, isn’t it?” His gaze lands on Evan.

  “Uh, yes sir, we were just leaving.” Evan jumps up. He stands so straight he looks like a soldier waiting for inspection.

  William clicks the switch on his flashlight and tucks it into his back pocket. “We were talking about our SAT. Lots to strategize.”

  The lines in Dad’s face deepen with sarcasm. “Is that so?”

  I build up William’s story. “Dad, we were studying, and William and Evan walked me home.”

  “Get in the house, Anne.” He juts his chin in that I’m-the-parent-do-as-I-say gesture. It’s about the only time he tries to do anything remotely adult-ish. Otherwise, he spends his time playing with iron and torches.

  “But we were just—”

  “Inside. Now.”

  I roll my eyes and head inside.

  “G’night, Anne.” William calls.

  “Bye,” Evan adds.

  “See you tomorrow, guys,” I reply.

  Dad shuts the door and locks it. He shuts off the front light, regardless of if William and Evan made it down the stairs or not. I try to peek outside, but he blocks me.

  “What’re you doing out at this hour, with a boy—two boys—on a school night?” Dad folds his arms. He’s got Band-Aids on three fingers and a puffy blister on the back of his right hand. Must’ve gotten burned from smelting.

  “Dad.” I sidestep to the stairs and rub the newel post. If my palm was sandpaper, I’d be rubbing off the varnish and digging into the wood fibers. My throat chokes on the words I want to say. There’s no easy way to bring up magick.

  He leans against the door. “I know you and William have been friends for a long time, but you’re getting older now. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you and him to be hanging out all the time anymore. And that other boy; he’s been at the faire, right? You shouldn’t invite him to the house until we’ve been properly introduced.”

  Stifling confusion washes me in a pyroclastic flow of “what the…?” and “did he really just say that?”

  He scratches his beard. “It’s natural for teenage girls and boys to experiment with things, but I don’t want you to get into something without knowing what you’re doing and then regret it later. Maybe it’s best if you and William only see each other on weekends and at the mall with a group of friends. Not alone. And certainly not in the middle of the night.”

  The current of puzzlement—a scorching combination of hot ash and volatile gases—threatens to obliterate me, but I glom onto a key word and fire off a question to extinguish the eruption. “Experimentation? Dad, what are you talking about? William’s my best friend.”

  He shakes his head. “I know it’s awkward to discuss…” He waves his hand around in some floppy, Egyptian-esque poses as if it will help him find the right words. “Sex. But your body is going through a lot of changes, and girls your age can be taken advantage of and—”

  I fold my arms across my chest and sit on the stairs. Embarrassment broadcasts itself across my cheeks: Level Two Major Disaster commencing in 3…2… “Dad, we’re not having sex.”

  “It’s after midnight and you were alone with two boys.”

  “And you think I’m having sex with them? With my clothes on? What, do you think we take turns or do it at the same time?”

  His face turns a ruddy tomato-red and the disaster level upgrades to One: Catastrophic Disaster. There’s no way I can get out of this conversation intact. “Anne Devans. Don’t be so crude.”

  “You’re the one who brought it up.”

  He closes the distance between us and leans over me. His breath smells like beer. “Then tell me the truth. What were you doing with those boys?” His voice is level, but the heat from his eyes is enough to vaporize me.

  I can handle Mom’s screaming and throwing things, but Dad’s anger is more lethal in a lot of ways. I can’t play it off as crazy.

  “If you don’t start talking, I’ll have to draw my own conclusions.”

  Hazard sirens bleat in a mind-stripping chorus. I have to tell him something, but there’s no way he’d believe the whole story. “Something awful happened.”

  Alarm creeps into his gaze, sharpening his pupils to laser points. “Did they hurt you?”

  “No, of course not!”

  “Then what?” His head shakes a bit, like a volcano trembles before it blows.

  Mary’s gone. Two words. Impossible to say. Thick bitterness rises in my throat and squeezes my windpipe. The slithery tentacles of fear and agony wrap around me and threaten to pull me down through the stairs, basement, and into the earth’s bedrock. I fight the urge to fling my arms around him and sob against his round belly. It worked when I was a kid, but it’d be totally weird now. Particularly since he looks like he wants to go all Vesuvius on me.

 
He straightens. “Anne?”

  I clamp my fingers around the railing—grabbing something solid might prevent me from exploding. “Mary was…kidnapped.”

  Dad blinks furiously. His face squashes into a frown. “Mary who?”

  My heart drops to my stomach like a rock plunging into a muddy pond.

  “Does she go to your school?” Dad’s eye twitches. It does that sometimes, especially if he and Mom are fighting. Or when he’s drunk. He drinks when she’s manic.

  “Mary, my sister.” I hold back from saying, Duh. But just barely.

  “What, like BFF or something?” He air-quotes BFF.

  “No, like sister, sister. Flesh and blood. Twin. Genetic replicant.”

  He sighs again. “Aren’t you too old for an imaginary friend? Is this some kind of spiritual mumbo-jumbo you picked up at the faire?”

  Imaginary friend? Mumbo-jumbo? My brain implodes. I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. After a Level One disaster, the state governor calls on help from the government. In this case, I have no one to call.

  “Okay. Go to bed. I’m too tired to discuss this right now. We’ll talk about William and Evan and your total disregard of any kind of curfew tomorrow.” Disappointment is plastered across his face, from the vertical line creasing the middle of his forehead to the thin line of his lips.

  “But…”

  “Now.” He snaps his fingers and waits for me to get up and start climbing.

  Inside my room, I lock the door and press my forehead against the frame. He couldn’t have been serious about Mary being a figment of my imagination. I take a deep breath. He hadn’t asked if she’d been out with us either. Maybe he thinks she’s in bed, sleeping. She’s the good twin, after all, and I’m the troublemaker.

  I reach out to flip the light switch and turn around.

  Mary’s bed is gone. So are her bedside table, polka-dotted lamp, pictures, books, everything. Instead of a row of hangers holding her rainbow-sorted clothes, dozens of fabric swatches fill a compartmented shelving unit.

  She’s not only gone, but her life has been erased. All of it. That’s why Dad didn’t know who she was.

  My chin trembles. “No,” I sob.