Chapter Five
I dropped Sofia off at her house, and then headed back to mine. I knew I had things to do, but I couldn’t concentrate after what had happened back at the shop. Hell, I was surprised I was even able to make it home without running off the road, considering how fast my mind was spinning.
I slipped in the front door, locking it behind me. The house was silent except for the sound of my heels hitting the hardwood floor. The comfort I usually found in that familiar click-clacking didn’t do anything to make me feel better. With Mom out and Dad away on business, I was in for a quiet night.
Too quiet.
I listened for any foreign noises but didn’t hear anything. One thing was sure, hearing that all they’d found of the Glovers in their home was drops of blood had definitely put me on edge. Suddenly everything around me seemed creepy.
Way to jump on the paranoia train, Hadley.
Shaking my head, I took the stairs two at a time and didn’t stop until I was safely behind the door of my room. I hung my bag on the back of my chair and grabbed my laptop from where I’d left it on my desk. Flopping down onto my bed, I pried it open and waited for the screen to go from black to blue.
“Come on, come on,” I muttered to the computer, willing it to start. Finally it complied and I keyed in my password and then logged on to IM. A quick scan of my friends list showed what I’d hoped. I double clicked on user P-Diddy13 and then hit connect on the video chat.
A few agonizing seconds later, I was looking at a slightly blurry shot of Peter in what I could only guess was his bedroom. Behind him were posters of Harry Potter and Iron Man, exactly the kind of decorations you’d expect in the room of an eleven-year-old male witch. The funny thing was that Peter did sort of resemble a young Daniel Radcliffe, only minus the accent.
“Peter,” I said, letting out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “I just heard. Are you okay?”
What I really wanted to ask was “What’s going on?” but I didn’t want to be callous, so I swallowed my desire for answers for the time being and focused on the young boy on my screen. Upon closer inspection, I could now see that his eyes were rimmed with red as if he’d been crying.
“Hadley. I’ve been waiting for someone to come online all afternoon! Everyone’s been MIA for hours,” he exclaimed, sounding even younger than usual. Peter had never been particularly loud or gregarious, but at this moment he looked fragile. I instantly felt horrible for the kid and gave him a strained smile.
“Sorry, Pete, but I only just got home. My mom rushed out of Scents and Sensibility like her hair was on fire and barely told me what was going on. I had to lock up so I only just got back,” I said, all in one breath. I tried to bite my tongue, but I couldn’t hold it any longer. “Peter . . . what the heck happened?”
His eyes started to well up, and just when I thought they were going to spill over, he swallowed his tears bravely. “I don’t know,” he managed to get out before looking up at the ceiling. Maybe video chat hadn’t been the best idea after all.
“Mom said that when you got home, your parents were gone and it looked like someone else had been there?” I asked him softly, not wanting to push but desperately needing to hear it from him.
“Some of the furniture was turned over and there was water boiling on the stove. And there was blood,” he said in a whisper. My heart ached as a tear rolled down his cheek. He was trying so hard to be strong, but he was clearly terrified. He sniffed and then continued. “It wasn’t a lot, but it was definitely blood. Do you think they’re okay, Hadley? I mean, they could still be okay, right?”
I wanted so badly to reassure him, but I had a feeling we both knew the truth. That this could be serious and chances were his parents weren’t okay. But if he needed to hear a lie to get through the next few hours, I was going to give it to him. “I’m sure they’re fine, Peter,” I said, feeling incredibly helpless. “Besides, the rest of the coven is on top of it. If anyone can figure this whole thing out it’s the elders.”
I tried to put all my energy into helping him believe that what I was saying was true, and as my words crossed the web to him, I saw his face relax just a tiny bit. “Thanks, Hadley.”
“No problem, kid. You got someone there with you for the night?”
“My uncle’s on his way over and my neighbors are here now,” he said, looking over his shoulder and offscreen. I could hear another voice but couldn’t make out what the person was saying. When Peter turned back to me, he gave me a little smile. “I gotta go, but thanks for this. I feel a little better now.”
We said our good-byes and I waited until he’d closed the window and signed out to do the same. The stimulation of the past few hours was finally catching up with me and I was suddenly exhausted. Placing my computer beside me, I snuggled deeper into my pillows and closed my eyes as I went over the events of the afternoon.
Nothing like this had ever happened to anyone I knew. Not that I even knew what this was exactly. It was still possible that Peter’s mom had accidentally cut herself while chopping vegetables and his dad had rushed her to the hospital because she needed stitches.
And in their haste to get out of the house, they’d flipped over the furniture. . . .
And didn’t bother calling Peter to tell him where they were. . . .
And still weren’t back yet.
I know. Even I didn’t believe it.
But what was the alternative? That something bad had happened to Peter’s parents? That maybe we weren’t as safe in our own homes as we thought? That despite their magical abilities, Peter’s parents hadn’t been able to defend themselves against whoever had been waiting for them?
I opened my eyes and looked over at my door, which was still cracked open from when I’d come in earlier. “Noxum clasitor,” I said with a wave of my finger. Within seconds, the door had closed and locked from the inside.
Just in case.
The sound of my cell playing “Defying Gravity,” from my favorite Broadway show, Wicked, interrupted the dream I’d been having. I was confused at first, and glanced down at myself to see that I was still wearing my clothes from the night before. I jolted out of bed and looked frantically around my room. If anyone had been in here with me, they would’ve been able to hear my heart pounding in my chest, it was beating so hard. But after a thorough inspection of every corner of my room, I collapsed back onto my pillows.
I was alone.
I reached over and hit the snooze button on my phone. My alarm meant that it was 6:30 a.m. and that my mom would likely be pounding on my door any minute to make sure I was up for school. Before she could give me a second wake-up call, I rolled out of bed and padded into the adjoining bathroom to brush my teeth as I waited for the water in the shower to warm up. I turned on the radio before jumping in and allowed myself to sing along to one of Ke$ha’s songs, even though I wouldn’t be caught dead doing so in public.
I had a reputation to maintain, after all. And singing was one of the few things I wasn’t good at.
An hour later, I unlocked my bedroom door and peeked my head out, listening for the familiar sounds of my mom getting ready for work. I was met with silence, but headed down the hall anyway, glancing in her room along the way.
Empty.
The bed was made, which wasn’t unusual, since she always made the bed as soon as she got out of it. This didn’t mean that it had been slept in, though. My suspicions grew as I entered the deserted kitchen. One look at the cold coffeepot told me with certainty that she hadn’t been home the night before.
I opened up my mind fully, attempting to channel my mom, but I was getting nothing. Then I tried her cell. It rang, and when her recording picked up, I left a message asking her to call me as soon as possible.
My chest grew tight with nerves. Was she okay? Did something happen? Should I call the cops and tell them that my mother, who was a grown adult, hadn’t been there when I’d woken up this morning and hadn’t checked in yet? If I did that, I was pretty sure they wouldn’t take me too seriously. But there was someone who wouldn’t think I was silly.
I keyed in my dad’s speed dial and brought the cell up to my ear. I stood at the counter and stared out the window into the backyard as the phone rang and rang. Four times, then six. On the eighth ring, Dad’s voice mail clicked on and he was telling me to leave a message.
“Hey, Dad, it’s Had. I was just calling because I was wondering if you’d heard from Mom? Something happened at the Glovers’ last night and I don’t think she came home,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. No need to get hysterical. Yet anyway. “Um, I was just kind of worried. I’m going to try her on her cell again, but can you call me back when you get this? Thanks, Daddy. Love you.”
I hung up and swallowed the lump in my throat. Then, to head off my hysteria, I busied myself with making breakfast, trying to appreciate the comfort that my morning routine brought me. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and then flipped on the TV, expecting my friends from the Today show to give me a distraction.
Instead, I saw something I wasn’t expecting. My hand stopped halfway to my mouth as I realized what I was watching on the screen in front of me.
“This quiet neighborhood was shocked and saddened yesterday when it was discovered that a young couple had disappeared from their home in what appears to be a violent kidnapping,” the newscaster said solemnly. It felt like she was talking to me, her eyes boring into mine.
Please don’t be talking about what I think you’re talking about.
“Those close to Mr. and Mrs. Glover say the couple is friendly and outgoing, and can’t imagine why anyone would want to hurt them,” the anchorwoman continued. “The couple has an eleven-year-old son who is beside himself with worry and grief and just wants his parents back safe and sound. If you know anything on the whereabouts of the missing Glenndale couple, please contact the number at the bottom of your screen.”
I dropped my spoon back into the bowl. I was finished eating. My stomach felt sick as the newscaster talked about the family I knew so well. Something about it being covered on television made it that much more real. And it meant that the coven hadn’t learned anything during their meeting.
That at least made me feel the tiniest bit better, because now I knew why my mom hadn’t come home. She and the rest of the Cleri were probably still working on the mystery behind the Glovers’ disappearance. That had to be where she was.
Suddenly, for the first time since I’d heard the news, I felt a wave of relief rush through me. Finally I could get on with my day without worrying. Good thing, too, because I had a quiz in science that morning and hadn’t studied for it.
And somehow I knew that the excuse of “Members of my coven were kidnapped last night and we’re waiting for the ransom—so I didn’t have time to go over the chapter” wouldn’t garner me much sympathy. In fact, it might actually get me a one-way ticket to the insane asylum. And maybe Kate Moss could pull off the straitjacket look, but I knew I couldn’t. Unless it’s custom-made in red.
I grabbed my bag and car keys off the counter and rushed out the door, determined to make it to school with enough time to cram in a study session before the first-period bell rang. As the car warmed up, I texted Sofia to bring my coffee straight to the library. I had a feeling I was going to need it.
By the time I’d made it through my first few classes, I’d pretty much forgotten all about what was going on at home. My science quiz had kept my mind locked on something other than the fate of the Glovers. School always had a way of doing that to me. It was the one place where I felt 100 percent in control of things. As class president, I made decisions based on what would be best for my classmates. I told everyone what to vote for and what they should care about, and I set the standards of what a good role model should be. When people went against my wishes, like by bullying other students or not holding up their side of a group project, I persuaded them to see the errors of their ways.
With magic, of course.
This was when I was at my best, you could say. And I reveled in my role. Especially when life got crazy like today, and I was able to get lost in my duties. Like, for instance, I’d already handled an issue that had come up regarding where the homecoming dance would be held as well as diffused a meltdown that Trish was having over a freshman girl who was wearing the same outfit as her to school that day yet refused to change into her gym clothes to rectify the problem. And this was all before lunch.
It was a great escape for me.
At least it was before something brought me crashing back to reality.
“Did you hear about those people who went missing a few towns over?” Bethany asked as we sat down at a table outside in the quad. It was lunchtime and I was famished on account of not having finished my breakfast and going to sleep without eating dinner the night before. I’d just settled down to a chopped salad, loaded to the lid with veggies and protein. However, given the topic change, I was afraid I was about to lose my appetite again. I forced myself to take a bite because I knew I wouldn’t have enough energy to make it through the day if I didn’t get something in my stomach.
Besides, it would totally mess up my metabolism if I started skipping meals on a regular basis, and that would just make me even more stressed out. And no one likes a stress pooch.
“My mom is freaking out over it, and she’s forced the family into lockdown for the foreseeable future,” Bethany continued, rolling her eyes. “I reminded her that if the kidnappers were looking for targets who they could get big ransoms for, it wouldn’t be us. She didn’t find that very funny.”
Oh, geez.
“So, on account of the fact that my mom has clearly gone insane, I can’t make it to our weekly today,” she finished, looking more bummed than apologetic. Bethany was talking about our regular excursion to the nail salon—and knowing how she felt about gossip, I knew it was killing her to opt out of a prime opportunity to gab. She’d probably begged and pleaded with her mom to change her mind to no avail.
Watching her try to choke out the words, I decided to put her out of her misery. “It’s no biggie, B. I was gonna cancel this week, anyway. I’ve got some stuff I have to take care of at home. I have cookies to bake, reading to do . . .”
And moms to track down.
I still hadn’t heard from Mom, but she knew about the “no phone calls at school” policy and insisted on following the rules. The sooner I found out she was okay, the sooner I could get on with my regularly scheduled life.
“Guess we’ll all wait until next week, then?” Trish asked, not bothering to acknowledge the fact that Sofia hadn’t canceled. But if her feelings were hurt, Sof didn’t show it.
Bethany looked relieved to hear that she wouldn’t be missing out on the dish after all. She smiled at me and I returned the gesture, happy she was happy, but wishing I felt the same.