Night World - Dark Angel Part 11

(Angel-is she a witch? Are there other witches around here? And how come I have to lie-)(She's getting suspicious!) The girl was looking at Gillian rather oddly. Like someone trying to catch a conversation. It scared Gillian.

"Unity. No, I'm just visiting," she said hastily. "And," she added as Ange l whispered, "I need the Dragon's Blood and, um, two wax figures. Female.

And do you have any charged Selket powder?"

Melusine settled back a little. "You belong to Circle Midnight." She said it fl atly.

(Whaaaat? What's Circle Midnight? And how come she doesn't like me any more?) (It's a sort of witch organization. Like a club. It's the one that does the kind of spells that you need to do right now.) (Aha. Bad spells, you mean.) (Powerful spells. In your case, necessary spells.) Melusine was scooting her chair behind the counter. For a moment Gillian w ondered why she didn't get up, and then, as Melusine reached the edge of the counter, she understood. The chair was a wheelchair and Melusi ne's right leg was missing from the knee down.

It didn't seem to hinder her, though. In a moment, she was scooting back wi th a couple of packets and a box in her lap. She put the box on the counter and took out two dolls made of dull rose-colored wax. One of the packets h eld chunks of what looked like dark red chalk, the other a peac.o.c.k-green po wder.

She didn't look up as Gillian paid for the items. Gillian felt snubbed.

"Unity," she said formally, as she put her wallet away and gathered up her pu rchases. She figured if you said it for h.e.l.lo, you could say it for goodbye.

Melusine's dark eyes flashed up at her intently and almost quizzically. Then she said slowly, "Merry part . . . and merry meet again." It almost sounded l ike an invitation.

(Well, I'm lost.) (Just say "Merry part" and get out of here, kid.) Outside, Gillian looked at the town square with new eyes. (The Witches of Woodbridge. So, are they, like, all over here? Do they own the Creamery an d the hardware store, too?) (You're closer than you think. But we don't have time to stand around. You'v e got some spells to cast.) Gillian took one more look around the quiet tree-lined square, feeling hersel f standing in the bright air with her packages of spell ingredients. Then she shook her head. She turned to the car.

Sitting in the middle of her bed with the bedroom door locked, Gillian conte mplated her materials. The plastic bags of rock and powder, the dolls, and t he hair she'd gathered from the brush in Macon's bathroom last night.Two or three strands of sun blond curls. Three or four long black glossy hair s.

"And you don't need to tell me what they're for," she said, looking at the air beside her. "It's voodoo time, huh?"

"Smart girl." Angel shimmered into being. "The hair is to personalize the do lls, to link them magically to their human counterparts. You've got to wind a hair around each doll, and name it out loud. Call it Tanya or Kimberlee."

Gillian didn't move. "Angel, look. When I got that hair, I had no idea why I was doing it. But when I saw those little wax figures-well, then I realized.

And the way that girl Melusine looked at me. ..."

"She has no idea what you're up against. Forget her."

"I'm just trying to get things straight, all right?" Hands clasped tightly in h er lap, she looked at him. "I've never wanted to hurt people-well, all right, y es, I have. I've had those-those images or whatever at night, like seeing a gia nt foot splat down on my geometry teacher. But I don't really want to hurt people."

Angel looked patient. "Who said you were going to hurt them?"

"Well, what's all this for?"

"It's for whatever you want it to be for. Gillian, dragonfly, all these mate rials are just aids for a witch's natural powers. They're a way of focusing the power, directing it to a particular purpose. But what actually happens t o Tanya and Kim depends on you. You don't have to hurt them. You just have t o stop them."

"I just have to stop them from doing what they're planning to do." Gillian's mind was already sparking into action. "And Tanya's planning to write lette rs. And Kim's planning to spread the word. . . ."

"So what if Tanya can't write letters? And if Kimberlee can't talk? It would b e sort of... poetic justice." Angel's face was grave, but his eyes were glinti ng with mischief.

Gillian bit her lip. "I think it would kill Kim not to talk!"

"Oh, I bet she could live through it." They were both laughing now. "So if she had, say, a bad sore throat. . . and if Tanya's arm were paralyzed . . ."

Gillian sobered. "Not paralyzed."

"I meant temporarily. Not even temporarily? All right, what about somethin g else that could keep her from typing or holding a pen? How about a bad r ash?"

"A rash?"

"Sure. An infection. One she'd have to keep bandaged up so she couldn't use her fingers. That would stop her for a while, until we can think of somethin g else."

"A rash . . . Yeah, that could work. That would be good." Gillian took a qui ck breath and looked down at her materials. "Okay, tell me how to do it!"And Angel walked her through the strange process. She wound the dolls wit h hair and named them aloud. She rubbed them with crumbled Dragon's Blood , the dark red chalky stuff. Then she dabbed the hand of one and the thro at of the other with the iridescent green Selket powder.

"Now . . . may I be given the power of the words of Hecate. It is not I who u tter them, it is not I who repeat them; it is Hecate who utters them, it is s he who repeats them."

(And who the heck's Hecate?) She sent the thought to Angel wordlessly, in c ase speaking aloud would ruin the spell.

(Be quiet. Now concentrate. Pick up the Tanya doll and think Streptococcus py ogenes. That's a bacteria that'll give her a rash. Picture it in your mind. S ee the rash on the real Tanya.) There was a certain satisfaction in doing it. Gillian couldn't deny that, eve n to herself. She pictured Tanya's slim olive-skinned right hand, poised to s ign a letter that would destroy David's future. Then she pictured itchy red b umps appearing, another hand scratching. Redness spreading across the skin. M ore itching. More scratching . . .

(Hey, this is fun!) Then she took care of the Kim doll.

When she was finished, she put both dolls in a shoe box and put the shoe bo x under her bed. Then she stood up, flushed and triumphant.

"It's over? I did it?"

"You did it. You're a full-fledged witch now. Hecate's the Queen of the Witc hes, incidentally. Their ancient ruler. And she's special to you- you're des cended in a direct line from her daughter h.e.l.lewise."

"I am?" Gillian stood a little straighter. She seemed to feel power tingling through her, a sparkling energy, a sense that she could reach out and mold th e world. She felt as if she ought to have an aura. "Really?"

"Your great-grandmother Elspeth was one of the Harmans, the Hearth-Women, the line that came from h.e.l.lewise. Elspeth's older sister Edgith became a big witch leader."

How could Gillian have ever thought she was ordinary, less than ordinary? Yo u couldn't argue with facts like these. She was from a line of important wit ches. She was part of an ancient tradition. She was special.

She felt very, very powerful.

That night, her father called. He wanted to know if she was okay, and to let her know he loved her.

All Gillian wanted to know was whether he'd be home for Christmas.

"Of course I'll be home. I love you."

"Love you."

But she wasn't happy when she hung up. (Angel, we've got to figure things ou t. Is there a spell I should do on him?)(I'll think about it.) The next morning she sailed into school cheerfully and looked around for someone who would talk. She spotted the cropped red head of J.Z. the Mode l and waved h.e.l.lo.

"What's up, J.Z.?"

J.Z. turned hazy blue-green eyes on her and fell into step. "Did you hear ab out Tanya?"

Gillian's heart skipped a beat. "No," she said, with perfect truth.

"She's got some awful rash or infection or something. Like poison ivy. They say it's driving her crazy." As always, J.Z. spoke slowly and with an almost vacant air. But Gillian thought there was a gleam of satisfaction under the blank look.

She shot J.Z. a sharp glance. "Well, that's too bad."

"Sure is," J.Z. murmured, smiling absently.

"I sure hope n.o.body else catches it." She was hoping to hear something abo ut Kim.

But J.Z. just said, "Well, at least we know David won't." Then she wandered off.

(Angel, that girl doesn't like Tanya.) (A lot of people don't like Tanya.) (It's weird. I used to think being popular meant everybody likes you. Now I t hink it's more like everybody's afraid not to like you.) (Right. Let them hate you as long as they fear you. But, you see, you've don e a public service, putting Tanya out of commission.) In biology cla.s.s, Gillian found out that Kim was absent and had canceled gy mnastics practice for the day. She had something' like strep throat and cou ldn't even talk. n.o.body seemed heartbroken over this, either.

(Being popular means everybody's glad when something bad happens to you .).

(It's a dog-eat-dog world, kid.) Angel chuckled.

Gillian smiled.

She had protected David. It gave her a wonderful feeling to be able to prot ect him, to take care of him. Not that she exactly approved of what he'd do ne. Buying an English paper and turning it in as your own-that was pretty b ad. Not just wrong, but petty somehow.

(But I think he was sorry. I think that was maybe one of the things he was saying he wasn't proud of. And maybe there's some way he can make up for it . Like if he wrote another paper and turned it in, and explained to Ms. Ren quist. Don't you think, Angel?) (Hm? Oh, sure. Good idea.) (Because sometimes being sorry isn't enough, you know? You've got to do something. Angel? Angel?)(I'm here. Just thinking about your next cla.s.s. And your powers and things.

Did you know there's a spell to bring in money?) (There is? Now, that's really interesting. I mean, I don't care about money mone y, but I'd really love a car. . . .) That night Gillian lay in bed, head propped on pillows, legs curled under a throw, and thought about how lucky she was.

Angel seemed to be gone for the moment; she could neither see him nor hear his voice. But it was Angel she was thinking about.

He had brought her so much-and he'd brought her himself, which she sometim es thought was the greatest gift of all. What other girl could have two go rgeous guys without being unfaithful to either of them, or making either o f them jealous? What other girl could have two great loves at once, withou t doing wrong?

Because that was how she'd come to think of Angel. As a great love. He wasn'

t a pillar of light to her anymore, or a terrifyingly beautiful apparition w ith a voice like silver fire. He was almost like an ordinary guy, only impos sibly handsome, devastatingly witty, and incidentally supernatural. Since le arning she was supernatural herself, Gillian felt he was somehow more access ible.

And he understood her. n.o.body had ever known her, or could ever know her, the way he did. He knew all her deepest secrets and most carefully hidden fears-and he still loved her. The love was obvious every time he spoke to her, every time he appeared and looked at her with those startling eyes.

I'm in love with him, too, Gillian thought. She felt quite calm about it. I t was different from the way she loved David. In a way, it was more powerfu l, because n.o.body could ever be as close to her as Angel was-but there was no physical aspect to it. Angel was a part of her on a level nothing human could touch. Their relationship was separate from the human world. It was u nique.

"Tie me kangaroo down, mate!" A light was appearing beside the bed.

"Where've you been, Australia?"

"Checking on Tanya and Kim the Gym, actually. Tanya's bandaged from shoul der to fingers and she's not thinking about writing anything. Kim's sucki ng a popsicle and moaning. Inaudibly."

"Good." Gillian felt a triumphant glow. Which was wrong, of course; she sho uldn't enjoy other people's pain. But she couldn't hide it from Angel-and t hose girls deserved it. They would be sorry, sorry, sorry they had ever tan gled with Gillian Lennox.

"But we've got to work out a more permanent solution," she said. "And figur e things out about my parents."

"I'm working on all of it." Angel was gazing at her with a kind of dreamy in tentness."What?"

"Nothing. Just looking at you. You look particularly beautiful tonight, whi ch is absurd considering you're wearing flannel pajamas with bears on them.

Gillian felt a quick sweet throb. She looked down. "These are cats. But the b ears are my favorite, actually." She looked back up and grinned wickedly. "I'

ll bet I could start a little bears fashion at school. You can do anything wi th enough guts."

"You can do anything, that's for sure. Sweet dreams, beautiful."

"Silly. Stop it." Gillian waved a hand at him. But she was still blushing when she lay down and shut her eyes. She felt absurdly happy and complimen ted. And beautiful. And powerful. And special.

"Hear about Tanya?" Amanda the Cheerleader said at lunch break the next da y. She and Gillian were in the girls' bathroom.

Gillian eyed herself in the mirror. A touch with the comb . . . perfect. An d maybe a little more lipstick. She was doing the glamour thing today. Dark , mesmerizing eyes and bold, laughing red mouth. Or maybe she should pout i nstead of laugh. She pursed her lips at herself and said absently, "Old new s."

"No, I mean the new stuff. She's got complications, apparently."

Gillian stopped applying lipstick. "What kind of complications?"

"I don't know. Fever, I think. And her whole arm's turning purple."

(Angel? Purple?) (Well, I'd say more mauve myself. Relax, kid. Fever's a natural side effect of a bad rash. Just like poison ivy.) (But-) (Look at Amanda. She's not too upset.) (No, 'cause she probably knows Tanya was messing with her boyfriend. Or she has some other reason not to like her. But, I mean, I don't want Tanya rea lly hurt.) (Don't you? Be honest.) (Well, I mean, not really, really hurt, you know? Medium hurt. That's all.) (I don't think she's going to drop dead this minute.) Angel said it patiently.

(Okay. Good.) Gillian felt a little embarra.s.sed for making a big deal-and a t the same time she had a fleeting impulse to go check on Tanya herself. Bu t the impulse was easily quashed. Tanya was getting what she deserved. It w as only a rash. How bad could that be?

Besides, Angel was looking after things. And she trusted Angel.

She added the last dab of lipstick and smiled at herself in the mirror. Defini tely she was one hot witch.

In sixth period, messengers brought candy canes that people had ordered last week from the Vocal Jazz Club. You could send the candy canes, which came with a ribbon and a note, to anyone you wanted.

Gillian got a pile so large that everyone laughed, and Seth Pyles ran over a nd snapped a picture of it for the yearbook. After school David came and rum maged through the pile, looking at the messages and shaking his fist, preten ding to be jealous.

It was a very good day.

"Happy?" Angel asked that afternoon. David's mother had recruited him for heavy-duty Christmas housecleaning, so Gillian was alone in her bedroom- which meant it was just her and Angel. She was folding socks and humming her favorite carol, "O Come All Ye Faithful." "Can't you tell?"

"Not with all that noise you're making. Are you really happy?"

She looked up. "Of course I am. I mean, except for the stuff with my parents , I'm totally happy."

"And being popular is all you expected it to be."

"Well . . ." Gillian paused in bewilderment.

"It's-it's a little different from what I expected. It's not the be-all and the end -all I'd have thought.

But then I'm different from what I thought."

"You're a witch. And you want more than just candy canes and parties."

She looked at him curiously. "What are you trying to say? That I should do s ome more spells?" "I'm saying that there's more to being a witch than doing spells. I can show you, if you trust me."