The Secret Circle: The Hunt, Page 3

  Cassie’s eyes lit up—there was a way! But her mother paused and her voice took on a serious tone. “Now, Cassie, I know what you’re thinking. You want to find that curse to save your friends, but you have to believe me when I tell you that you can’t use magic from a book you don’t understand. No dark magic can be used without grave consequences. Those burns on your hands were just the beginning.”

  Cassie agreed for the sake of her mother’s peace of mind.

  “But until we can figure out a way to use the book safely,” her mother said, “I think I have another way to help. I know the perfect place to keep Faye and Laurel safe.”

  This was a turn Cassie hadn’t anticipated. “Where?”

  “Right here. There’s a secret room in the house.”

  Cassie looked at her mother in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

  Her mother laughed. “Your grandmother built it when tensions between the townspeople and witches started rising sixteen years ago, just before the storm that claimed so many lives.” She paused solemnly. “So many of your friends’ parents’ lives. She had it spelled for special protection. Come on, I’ll show it to you.”

  Cassie followed her mother to the stairs that led to the basement. “Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” she asked.

  “You didn’t need it then.” Her mother led Cassie through the shadowy basement, which smelled of mold and mildew, and stopped in front of an old bookcase. “But you do now.”

  She raised her arms and rested her hands upon one of the dusty shelves. “I’m a little rusty,” her mother said. “But I think I can do it.” She closed her eyes and then focused her energy on the wall of books. She recited a wary chant in a tone of voice Cassie had never heard from her before:

  Enchanted threshold—

  door untold—

  reveal to me what you conceal.

  The edges of the bookshelf gradually began to glow, like the sun had just broken through a wall of clouds, and then a doorway appeared. Cassie couldn’t believe her eyes. It was an enchanted opening—a rippling portal made visible in the center of the shelves, just large enough to step through.

  Cassie’s mother was pleased with her success. “I guess after all these years I’ve still got it,” she said. “Go on, step inside.”

  Cassie cautiously crossed the threshold to look around. It was a large room, fully furnished like a studio apartment. There was a cast-iron bed, handmade lamps, and a tufted sofa. It was all so old-fashioned it looked antique, giving the space an unexpected elegance, like a nineteenth-century sitting room.

  “It needs a good dusting, that’s for sure,” her mother said. “But it’ll do the job. Should I start preparing it for your friends?”

  Cassie nodded. The room had its own kitchen nook and bathroom, and in the living room area there was even an old television set. “It’s perfect,” Cassie said. “Thank you.”

  They wasted no time getting started. Her mother dug out every cleaning appliance and disinfectant they owned. They stripped the beds and vacuumed the carpet, scrubbed the bathroom and scoured the kitchen countertops. Cassie brought down fresh linens and some food for the refrigerator. Faye and Laurel will be pleased, Cassie thought. As far as overnight hiding places went, this was a best-case scenario.

  When they were finished, Cassie’s mother gave her an affectionate squeeze and headed back upstairs. Cassie’s mind turned to her father’s book. She had to figure out where it was.

  She eyed the mysterious room. Her mother was so good at keeping secrets—too good. How would Cassie ever discover where she’d hidden the book? It could be anywhere.

  And then the answer unwrapped itself like a gift. The room was spelled for protection, which meant Cassie could safely perform a summoning spell to locate the book without fear of being caught by her mother—or the hunters.

  She listened for a moment to be sure there was no movement coming from upstairs and then tightly closed her eyes. She concentrated and whispered a simple incantation:

  Book of Shadows, I summon thee.

  Be released, appear to me.

  Nothing happened at first, but then Cassie felt a peculiar tugging at her throat, a pull from the necklace around her neck. She grasped its silver chain, quickly released its clasp, and held it out in front of her. The quivering pendant was clear quartz. Of course—it was a visionary stone. It must have begun picking up traces of the book’s energy.

  Cassie let the pendant hang from its silver chain and watched the delicate crystal spin until it aligned itself in a definite direction. Soon it started swinging in broad sweeping strokes, like a pendulum.

  Cassie took careful steps in the direction it led, keeping her hand steady as best she could. She followed the curve of its path, which was guiding her nowhere near the room’s exit but toward the couch in the sitting area. Was it possible her mother had hidden the book down here in the basement? A strange excitement filled Cassie’s chest as the silver chain straightened to a thin vertical line. The crystal stopped moving. It pointed and quaked at the floor directly below Cassie’s feet.

  Excitedly, Cassie lifted the throw rug to reveal the pale wooden slabs of flooring beneath it. There was a slight crack in one of the panels, barely visible to the eye but just large enough to dig out with her fingernail. It took a few tries to lift the board out of place, but once it was removed, the others were simple. And there was the book, nestled within a carefully carved divot like a tomb.

  Cassie eyed the dark book like a dormant enemy. She leaned in close to it and poked it with her pointer finger. Then, deciding it was safe to pick up, she held it in her hands.

  She couldn’t have Faye and Laurel lounging around so close to something so private and powerful. She wasn’t so concerned about Laurel using it, but Faye. She had to make sure Faye didn’t discover this book under any circumstances. The secret room was definitely no place for it.

  Cassie replaced the floorboards and the rug, then stood up to make her way to the stairs. She held the book close to her chest, trying to decide if she could sneak it past her mother by hiding it beneath her shirt. And then out of nowhere a foreign and mysterious feeling passed over her. She looked down at the book in her hands and had the overwhelming urge to open it, right then and there. She couldn’t say why. She was sure it would burn her again, but her desire for even that brutal punishment was so strong, it was like a craving. The need came from somewhere deep inside her.

  She looked around the room and listened for her mother’s footsteps upstairs. No one would know. Not her mother, not the Circle. It would be her own secret—all her own.

  The book seemed to be calling her, beckoning her.

  But Cassie thought back to her mother’s warnings, and shook her head to resist the urge. She quickly shoved the book under her shirt and ran upstairs to her bedroom before she had the chance to change her mind.

  She would wait until Adam was with her to open it—that was the smart thing to do. Until then she would conceal the book out of sight. She knew just the place: Beneath her bed was a gunmetal chest that locked with a key. Cassie kneeled down, pulled it out into the light, and stuffed the book inside. It pained her to let go of the book when she so badly wanted it near her, but she forced herself to slam the chest closed, lock it, and shove it back underneath her bed.

  The golden key to the chest felt warm in the palm of Cassie’s hand. She squeezed it tightly in her fist, realizing she would have to hide it in a separate place. She decided on her old wooden jewelry box, which had a hidden pullout bottom nobody knew about. Cassie gently placed the key inside, just beside the chalcedony rose Adam had given her. The two of them can keep an eye on each other, she thought, and then realized how ridiculous that was. Inanimate objects didn’t live and breathe. Right?

  CHAPTER 5

  It was the middle of the night, dark and quiet, when Cassie unlocked the gunmetal chest and reached inside for her father’s Book of Shadows. She held the book close to her face, and took a d
eep breath in. It smelled musty and old. She ran her palm over its soft, faded cover and traced its inscription with her finger. She wanted to absorb every detail. Finally, she pressed her thumb onto the worn oval on its corner—Black John’s fingerprint—and found it was a perfect fit.

  Cassie knew what she was doing was wrong. She’d promised herself she wouldn’t open the book without Adam. But she couldn’t control her own hands. They shook with excitement as she flipped through the book’s yellowed pages. The words printed there still appeared as wavy lines and ancient symbols, but they were somehow more familiar to her. She could sense their meaning; she could almost taste it. And as she continued scanning each page, from top to bottom, left to right, she could feel herself getting sucked into the book itself, like she was becoming a part of it and it a part of her. That dark feeling she was beginning to know so well filled her stomach, and then her heart. Soon it was shivering provocatively through her whole body.

  With a final shudder, Cassie startled awake. All was still and silent in her room. It was just a bad dream, she thought, but a painful throbbing ran from the tips of her fingers up the length of her wrists.

  Cassie reached over to her lamp on the nightstand and found she could barely grip the switch to turn it on. But when she did, the light revealed an alarming sight: The marks on her hands had deepened to a shocking crimson. And, Cassie noticed, there was a dark red, cruel-looking welt on the inside of her left palm. It was a new mark.

  But the book was locked away—there was no way Cassie could have actually touched it. Could she?

  She ducked under her bed to check for the gunmetal chest. She’d positioned it just so, perfectly aligned with a faint line on the floorboard, so she could easily tell if someone discovered and tampered with it.

  The chest was in place with its lock still fastened. Next, Cassie checked her jewelry box. The key was there, lying innocently beside the chalcedony rose, just as she’d left it.

  But Cassie was sure she’d had the book in her hands—how else could these new marks be explained? And she was positive she’d actually been reading the book. She felt different. A strange energy surged through her veins. It felt like strength, like capability. Like power.

  Cassie woke up the next morning to find her mother pulling open the curtains in her room, filling it with bright sunlight. “You were really in a deep sleep,” her mother said. “You snored right through your alarm.”

  Cassie glanced down at her burned hands and hid them beneath the bedspread.

  “Your friends came by about an hour ago,” her mother continued. “But I sent them home.”

  Cassie sat up and tried to get her bearings. “You sent them home? We were supposed to have a Circle meeting.”

  “You seemed to need your rest more.” Her mother patted Cassie aside and sat next to her. “I went ahead and told your friends about the secret room in the basement. And I already spoke to Faye’s mother and Laurel’s guardians about letting them spend their nights here. Everything’s all set. That’s one less thing for you to worry about.”

  Cassie’s mouth was dry and her mind was still groggy, but she was awake enough to understand that her mother was supporting her in a whole new way. She had basically sat in on Cassie’s Circle meeting for her and single-handedly accomplished everything on the agenda. Her mother, the same woman who had refused to even utter the word witchcraft one year earlier. “And another thing,” her mom said. “You and your friends are going to the spring dance. It’s been decided.”

  For a second Cassie thought she might be dreaming again, but then she noticed her mother’s sly smile. “Really,” Cassie said. “The Circle decided that. And I’m sure you played no part in convincing them.”

  “Guilty as charged.” Her mother raised up her hands, defenseless. “I think you all deserve a break. And it’ll be a good reminder that you’re in high school—these are supposed to be the best years of your life.”

  True, Cassie thought. She was in high school, but she also had people’s lives in her hands. Not to mention her own.

  “Are you hungry?” her mother asked, changing the subject before Cassie could protest the dance. “You must be, it’s already lunchtime. I’ll fix us something to eat.”

  She was already through the door headed for the kitchen when Cassie called out to her. “Mom—thank you.” Cassie knew just how lucky she was, not only to have a mother—unlike most of her friends—but to have her mother.

  “Mmhmm,” her mother replied modestly, like it was nothing at all.

  Cassie let her head drop back onto her pillow. Her mind immediately began to spin. She needed to tell Adam about the dream she had had last night, if it had been a dream at all. Even now, as exhausted as she felt, Cassie had the urge to grab the book and search its pages for anything resembling the witch-hunter curse.

  Cassie reached for her cell phone to quickly text Adam: What are you up to? Can you come over?

  He instantly wrote back: Can’t. Taking Grandma to doctor, remember? But I’ll see you tonight.

  That’s right. She knew Adam was busy today, but they’d made plans to have the evening to themselves. Where was her head? The restless night had left her brain foggy and confused.

  A night alone with Adam was exactly what Cassie needed. In addition to everything about the book and the dream, there was something even more overwhelming weighing on Cassie’s mind: She had to talk to Adam about the cord she’d seen connecting Adam to Scarlett on the night Scarlett left town. Whether or not Adam had seen it, and whether or not talking about it would be like throwing a hammer through the glass window of their relationship, it had to be addressed tonight. There could be no more secrets between them.

  Cassie crawled out of bed and headed toward the sweet smells wafting from the kitchen. She’d better eat; she’d need her strength later.

  Faye and Laurel appeared at Cassie’s front door that afternoon with suitcases in tow. “Pop the champagne,” Faye said sarcastically as she stepped inside. “We’re here to prepare for our extended slumber party.”

  Laurel sped past her and asked where the secret room was. She obviously didn’t want to waste any time with small talk.

  “Follow me,” Cassie said. She was still feeling shaken up from her nightmare and had hoped the doorbell would be Adam arriving early, but for Faye’s and Laurel’s sake she tried to sound pleasant. She also did her best to keep her burns covered, though that was becoming more and more challenging. The sleeves of her shirts were getting stretched out from constantly pulling them down over her hands.

  “This feels like something out of an Edgar Allan Poe story,” Faye said as Cassie led them downstairs and through the basement. “Wasn’t he a fan of burying people alive?”

  Laurel nodded. “In catacombs. Subterranean receptacles of the dead.”

  “I think you’ll have a change of heart when you see it,” Cassie said.

  When they reached the bookcase, Cassie explained how it worked as a secret door. Then she closed her eyes, focused her energy on the wall of books, and recited the words her mother had used: “Enchanted threshold, door untold, reveal to me what you conceal.”

  Surprise flashed across Faye’s and Laurel’s faces the moment the doorway appeared in the bookshelf.

  “Your grandmother was a sneaky lady,” Faye said. “A woman of my own kind.”

  Laurel stepped inside the room and picked up a plush throw pillow from the sofa. “It’s like Victorian England in here.”

  “I’m glad you like it.” Cassie smiled. “I want you both to be comfortable.”

  “It certainly has less of a bomb-shelter feel than I expected,” said Faye. Cassie knew that was the closest thing to a compliment she was going to get.

  Faye claimed her side of the room and immediately began taking things out of her suitcase and spreading them around—some candles and perfume bottles, her makeup case, her favorite jewelry.

  “What we should be doing,” Faye said, as she arranged her nail polishes and
lipsticks upon the dresser by color, “is taking action against Max and his dad. I don’t understand what we’re waiting for.”

  “We are taking action.” Cassie tried to sound patient but firm. “But it’s important for you two to keep under the radar as best you can.”

  “It’s not fair,” Laurel blurted out. She was standing over her closed suitcase, not as quick to settle in as Faye.

  “I know,” Cassie said, as sympathetically as she could. “But I promise you, Laurel, we’ll do what we have to do. In the meantime, keeping close to the Circle is the best way to truly be safe.”

  “I still want to go to the Spring Fling tomorrow night,” Faye said, without looking up from her tincture collection. The tiny vials ranged from innocuous-looking browns to malicious purples. “The rest of the Circle will be there. There’s no reason Laurel and I should have to miss it.”

  Cassie didn’t bat an eye. “You’re free to go to the dance if you want to. But Mr. Boylan and Max will be there, too, and there’ll only be a handful of chaperones guarding an endless number of dark hallways. Need I remind you of Jeffrey Lovejoy hanging dead in the boiler room the night of the homecoming dance last year? Is that what you want to happen to you, Faye?”

  Cassie didn’t realize until a moment too late that she’d been yelling. Her face and neck felt flushed and she’d broken into a sweat.

  Faye was so caught off guard by Cassie’s eruption, her only response was stunned silence. Laurel backed away from her, awestruck.

  Cassie’s hands were balled into fists. When she released them, the burns on her skin tingled.

  “Cassie’s right,” Laurel said, still eyeing Faye with an expression of alarm. “Forget the stupid dance. We’ll hang out here and watch a movie. Your pick.”