Spellbound - Cara Lynn Shultz [35]
“Exciting for you,” I pointed out. “I don’t want to end up possessed, or trapped in some third dimension.”
“Oh, don’t be silly,” she said, as if the phrase “marked by the spirit world” was any more believable than “trapped in a third dimension.”
“Look,” she continued. “The way I interpret this, I’d say a spirit, or some force, is reaching out to you. I know it seems like it was malevolent, but spirits are dramatic, so there’s no certainty that there was any ill intent. That said, I would still be careful. Wear the ring.
“And,” she continued, her voice sounding confused, “I’m surprised you don’t believe in ghosts—or anything spiritual at all. I thought you were into this.”
“No, not really,” I said. “Why did you think that?”
“Well, your necklace, for starters,” Angelique explained.
“My necklace? It’s something my brother gave me,” I said, remembering how I saw the same thing in Brendan’s locker. “It’s just some common design.”
“No, it’s not,” Angelique said emphatically. “It’s completely and totally not. It’s quite significant. I’ve seen it in a few spell books—but I never bothered to read the spells, since I don’t believe in love spells. So I couldn’t say what exactly it symbolizes. But I also recognize it from one of my mother’s textbooks—she teaches Medieval Studies at Fordham. I’ve also seen it on some websites—dark magic sites, actually.”
Angelique stopped, then took a breath. “It means something.”
“I don’t know what it means, but if you have any books about it lying around, I’d love to borrow them.” I toyed with the necklace as I spoke. “The necklace…it’s pretty sentimental. I’d like to know what the story is.”
“Of course, Emma. I’ll look for some books. But—” She paused, then sounded sheepish. “You’ve been so nice to me. I thought it was because you were sympathetic to the witch’s plight.”
“You’re the one who’s been nice to me from day one,” I reminded her. “And I don’t really care what your religion is, although I have to admit, it’s coming in handy for me right now.” She laughed. We kept talking for a while—and she reminded me to bring in a personal item for the protection spell.
“Just jog on a treadmill from now on,” she advised.
I was relieved when, over the next two days, I walked to school with Ashley and no locusts clustered at my feet, no frogs rained down from the sky, and when I turned on the faucet in the girls’ bathroom, the tap ran clear with good ol’ water—not blood. I was even slightly comforted when Brendan continued to keep me on his pay-no-mind list. Any change in his behavior and I would have thought the spirit world was really screwing with me.
In chemistry, I handed Angelique the key to the home I had shared with my mom and Ethan, pre-Henry. I kept it on a purple ribbon and used it as a bookmark in my journal. She had asked me to bring something personal—the more personal, the better.
“It’s really sentimental, so it won’t get ruined in the spell, right?” I asked, concerned.
“Not at all,” she assured me. “Truthfully, that necklace might be the best, but we’ll work with this and go in for the big guns if we have to.”
Angelique then leaned over and ripped out a few strands of hair. I clapped my hands over my mouth to stop from yelping.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “I should have warned you. I forgot. I’m just excited.”
“I could have pulled them out for you myself.” I pouted, rubbing my scalp. “I think you got some skin there.”
She stuck my hair in an envelope for safekeeping, and promised me that, by midnight tomorrow, I would be protected—and if not totally protected, at least I’d likely stop seeing lampposts explode. I had to admit, even though I wasn’t really sold on the whole supernatural thing, I appreciated her concern.
After school, I walked home with Ashley, and figured