Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [34]
Call me tonight.
Angelique then took off one of her rings, a silver band engraved with some unidentifiable symbols inside and outside, and handed it to me.
Wear it.
The serious look on her face told me to do what she said. I hastily slid the ring on my finger.
It was almost 5:00 p.m. when I was able to give Angelique a call, since Ashley (who was still in full infatuation mode with Anthony) stayed over for a while, giggling about her flirtatious emails with Anthony and ignoring my protests. She wanted me to come over to her house for dinner but I begged off, using the same cold excuse that seemed to work earlier in the day.
I sat on my bed and dialed Angelique, who answered on the first ring.
“Hello—Angelique? It’s Emma.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“Wow, are you psychic, too?” I asked in awe.
“No, I have caller ID.” Oh, yeah. Duh.
“So,” Angelique continued. “What happened to you?”
“What do you mean?” I stalled, knowing full well what she meant.
“When I came to chemistry class, you weren’t there.” She paused. “It was like there was a black hole where you were supposed to be. You were in the dark.”
I bit my lip, fighting back the sick, creepy feeling that spread up through my stomach and gripped my heart.
“Funny you would say that,” I began. “I kind of was.” I told her about the streetlights—how it felt like I’d triggered the explosions.
“Well, it was right of me to give you my ring then,” she said, sounding relieved. “Are you wearing it?”
“Yes,” I said, turning the ring over on my index finger.
“It’s been blessed,” Angelique continued. “It should protect you. It’s just a precaution, though. Even though you saw the lights exploding above your head, you likely weren’t ever in any real danger.”
“Well, except from the exploding shards of glass,” I corrected her.
“Not really,” she explained. “They might not have really exploded. It’s possible that you only saw them explode. How can I put this so you’ll understand?” She paused. “What happened was the spirit world’s way of saying, ‘I’m not touching you,’ then sticking their fingers in your face. Like a little kid would do, only much, much scarier.”
“If the spirit world wants to annoy me, couldn’t it just give me a wedgie or something?”
“It doesn’t work like that,” Angelique said, ignoring my lame joke. “And besides, even though spirits are technically not more active around Halloween, people are more aware of them, so they have a bigger reach to the mortal realm, so to speak.”
“But I don’t believe in ghosts,” I protested.
“Eh, that really doesn’t make much of a difference,” Angelique replied, cavalierly. “And it’s not necessarily ghosts, mind you. There are energies, spirits, forces in the world no one really understands.” She paused again. “You didn’t deface any sacred grounds, did you, Emma?”
“Like what, Bergdorf’s? I’m on the Upper East Side, Angelique. The most sinister thing I could do is wear white after Labor Day.”
“Or last season’s nail polish,” she agreed, laughing. “Still, I don’t understand why you would be marked by the spirit world like this.”
“Marked?” I squeaked. “Marked by what? For what?”
“It could be any number of things,” Angelique explained. “Maybe you’re a channel. Maybe someone’s trying to warn you. Maybe this is a sign.”
“I like my explanation better.” I sighed. “That the street lamps were in dire need of repair. I mean, I’ve seen lights go out over my head before.”
Angelique was suddenly silent. “What did you say?” she asked, her voice chillingly low.
“It’s happened before,” I said dismissively. “Just a few times—but it’s been kind of the same thing—the lights burn out, then I smell the bitter, sulfury smell.”
“The sulfur smell generally indicates something negative, so it sounds to me like you’re being warned about something—something pretty bad. And whoever is reaching out to you had to make a big show to get your attention since you clearly were ignoring the warning signs.”
“I don’t like the sound of that.” I twisted my purple comforter into knots.
“Well, don’t get freaked out just yet. I’ll do a spell of