Believe: The Complete Channie Series Page 19

  Channie stroked the velvety leaf of a lemon balm plant with her index finger.

  Nothing happened.

  She put one, then two hands on the red clay pot. A tingle of magic warmed her palms. She needed those books, so she ignored the warning and lifted the plant.

  Josh stepped around Channie and yanked a rosemary bush off the trunk before she had a chance to warn him. He groaned and said, “Whoa, this thing’s heavy! Where do you want me to put it?”

  The pot of lemon balm grew warmer. Channie set it back on the trunk, but she couldn’t let go. Her hands were stuck. She strained and jerked but she might as well try to pull her hands off her own arms for all the good it did. She picked up the pot and moved away from the trunk.

  Josh said, “What the hell?” And shook the rosemary bush, releasing a shower of needle-like leaves that drifted into his hair and stuck to the plush fabric of his robe. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s a curse.” Channie kept her voice calm, even though her heart was pounding.

  “I can’t let go.” Josh gave the plant another shake.

  “It’ll be okay. Don’t panic.” She and Josh would just have to wait for the spell to wear off. Channie had almost convinced herself that it wasn’t a problem...when the plants began to glow. And hum. Not good.

  “Channie?”

  There was no time to explain. “Turn your head away from the plants. Protect your face.”

  “But—”

  “NOW!”

  Josh did as he was told—a split-second before both plants exploded.

  The first thing Channie noticed was the musty smell of potting soil, smoldering greenery and burnt onions. She wrinkled her nose and a sharp stinging pain shot across her forehead, just above her left eyebrow. She lifted her hand to her face and found the jagged edge of a pottery shard stuck to a flap of skin.

  Momma’s spell wasn’t just a benign alarm meant to alert her if someone messed with her plants. It was a weapon.

  Channie cast a pain-away spell on herself and pressed a finger on either side of the cut to hold the loose skin in place. She relaxed her squinted eyes, but kept them closed, took a deep breath to gather her courage and removed the shard. She didn’t feel any pain, but the tugging sensation made her queasy.

  She pressed her lips together, breathing through her nose until the nausea faded, then opened her eyes. The room was dark. Was she blind? She could still see the fuzzy outline of Momma and Daddy’s bed, their dressing table, and the lacy pattern of the plants on top of Momma’s trunk.

  She blinked her eyes and her vision improved. The silvery-blue light of the moon sharpened edges and gave things weight, form and dimension. Channie wasn’t blind. The candle had gone out, that was all. But if that shard had struck just a few inches lower she would have lost her eye. What if one of the boys had triggered the curse instead of her and Josh?

  Josh! If that little pot of lemon balm had knocked her on her butt, what had the rosemary bush done to him?

  “Josh? Where are you? Are you okay?”

  He didn’t answer.

  Dizzy and sick with anxiety, Channie crawled across the floor to Momma’s nightstand and lit another candle.

  Josh was slumped against the northeast wall, covered in blood.

  The room tilted on its axis. Channie stifled a scream and stumbled across the floor. She fell to her knees in front of Josh and grabbed his hands. It took her a moment to calm down enough to realize that he was still breathing and several minutes after that to gather enough magic to scan his body for injuries.

  He still had the concussion from smacking his head on the bathtub, but she couldn’t find anything else wrong with him. Where had all the blood come from?

  She touched the scarlet blooms splattered across Josh’s throat then brought her fingertips to her nose and sniffed. All she smelled was her own blood, mixed with potting soil and aromatic herbs.

  Channie wiped her hands on her jeans then touched Josh’s throat again. His skin was soft, dry and warm. Not wet. Not sticky. Not bloody...Stained.

  She pushed the sleeves of her sweatshirt up past her elbows. It looked like she’d dunked both arms into a vat of cochineal dye.

  Momma must have put one hell of a red-handed spell on her plants. Channie trailed her fingers over the solid, crimson stain from Josh’s collarbone to his navel where it disappeared under his belted robe. She was too worried about him to feel any lust, but she couldn’t help admiring the satiny feel of his skin stretched across the chiseled muscles of his chest and belly.

  Josh groaned and opened his eyes. Channie jerked her hand away from his belly but not fast enough. His eyes widened as his lips parted into a soft “O.” His cheeks turned almost as red as the stains on his body. He scrambled to his feet, turned his back and tugged the loose robe up over his exposed shoulders and tightened the belt.

  “Josh...I was only trying to see what caused the stains. I wasn’t trying to...do anything inappropriate.”

  Her fingers tingled with the tactile memory of his bare skin. Chastity’s magic poured into Josh’s shield, turning Channie’s words into a lie.

  Josh shrugged and said, “Whatever.”

  Righteous indignation filled Channie with rage. The power building inside Chastity’s power-well felt different—more dangerous and violent than before. Channie felt as if she were going to burst into flames. Or explode.

  She jumped to her feet, whirled away from Josh, crossed her fisted hands over her chest then flung them straight out in front of her. Pulsing waves of magic shot out of her crimson palms and shattered every single pot, as well as the window behind them, in a single blast.

  Channie’s arms fell to her sides. Stunned, her jaw dropped as she sank to the floor. What the hell just happened?

  When the plants exploded, shrapnel from flying pottery shards must have broken the window.

  It made sense, but for some reason, Channie didn’t believe her own logic. She stood up, gathered her magic again and aimed a narrow, focused beam at the rusted lock on the trunk with a single finger. And blew the entire lid off. So much for the theory of studying for decades to use magic on a molecular level. She didn’t even know what alloys the lock was made of, much less the atomic structure of each metal.

  “Holy cow. Remind me never to piss you off.”

  Josh meant it as a joke, but Channie didn’t laugh. Her curse wasn’t just an inconvenience anymore. It was a deadly weapon.

  “That was freaking amazing!”

  “Amazing? I’ll tell you what’s amazing. The fact that you’re still standing is amazing. If I hadn’t been able to redirect my power, I would have killed you!”

  Channie pressed her middle fingers into her temples and said, “Go take a shower. You look like a chainsaw victim in a horror movie.” Or the victim of a teen-aged mage that can’t control her own magic.

  She felt a little guilty for misleading Josh. The whole purpose of the spell was to catch a thief red-handed. He could scrub until his skin was raw, but that wouldn’t get rid of the stains. Channie was sending Josh to the shower to keep him away from the trunk and safe from any more booby traps, not to get him clean. She needed to look inside the trunk, but she didn’t want Josh anywhere near it when she did.

  He held his arms out in front of his body and frowned as he stared at his bright red skin. “What is this stuff anyway? I look like Darth Maul”

  “It’s stains. From a spell Momma put on her plants. Who’s Darth Maul?”

  He laughed and said, “Star Wars villain. I seem to have gotten the worst of it. Is it all over my face too?”

  “No. You don’t have any on your face. Do I?”

  Josh looked at Channie and furrowed his brow. “Actually, that looks like blood.”

  In the midst of all the excitement, Channie had forgotten about her own injury. She touched the gash over her eyebrow and grimaced. The pain-away spell was starting to wear off.

  “A piece of pottery hit me when the plants exploded. It’s
fine. Now go take a shower.”

  Josh moved closer put his hands on her shoulders and lowered his face until it was even with hers. “Jeeze, Channie. That’s a pretty bad gash. Can you heal yourself? Like you did the back of my head?”

  “Yeah, but it’ll leave a scar.”

  “I can take you to the ER and insist they call a plastic surgeon to stitch you up. You’ll still have a scar, but it won’t be as bad.”

  “I’m not going to one of your empty hospitals!” Just the thought of it made Channie’s mouth go dry.

  After she healed her cut, Channie examined her handiwork in the bathroom mirror. She’d taken her time and even managed to use Enchantment’s energy by tapping into her heart-of-hearts. The results were impressive. All that remained of the jagged cut was a thin pink line. By morning, even that would be gone. Maybe she could become a Master Healer, without formal training.

  Josh stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders, looking at her reflection. “I can hardly see it.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head. “You’re pretty amazing. You know that?”

  “Go ahead and take your shower before these stains set.” Channie felt another twinge of guilt for repeating the lie, but she’d feel much worse if Josh got hurt.

  “What about your stains?”

  “I’ll wash off in the sink. She grabbed his shoulders and turned him around then marched him into Momma and Daddy’s shower and pulled the door shut. She waited until she heard the water running then went back to Momma’s trunk.

  She should have been consumed with guilt for what she was about to do. But all she felt was a thrill of anticipation. She cleared away the broken shards of pottery then knelt in front of the trunk. A feeling of reverence and awe expanded her chest. She bit her lip and closed her eyes then stretched her neck to peek inside for the first time. And gasped. Sitting on top of Momma’s spell books and journals full of notes, was one small bundle wrapped in stained silk.

  A gust of wind sailed in through the broken window and blew off the silk wrapper. Gold sparks ran across the cracked leather and burned a single word into the cover...“Enchantment.”

  Channie knew the book was dangerous, but the desire to touch it burned in her belly like lust...gnawing at her with an insatiable hunger that would not be denied. She stretched forth a trembling hand and ran her fingers over the glowing letters of her name.

  Power zinged up her hand, through her arm and straight into her heart-of-hearts. The book was alive. It spoke to her. The words formed in her mind and filled her with energy and warmth. Open the book and all you wish shall be granted.

  Channie wanted to open the book. She had to open the book. “No! I will not be controlled by magic!”

  She jerked her hand back and pressed her fingers to her lips. She tasted rust. No, not rust ... blood ... ancient, powerful, sacrificial blood. Channie wiped her mouth with her sleeve then sat back on her heels. Momma robbed a grave to get this book and now she owes a blood debt to dark magic.

  Even without touching it, the book still spoke to Channie...which should have been warning enough to leave it alone.

  Why not use the magic so dearly bought? Your refusal will not remove the debt from your mother’s head. Your parents bound you with an ancient curse and took away your right to choose your own path. Your name, not your mother’s, is burned into this cover. See how the letters still glow. Do you not have the courage to free yourself?

  Channie touched the book again. This time it was Chastity’s magic that responded and filled her with dread. It told her to run away and put as much distance between herself and this evil book as possible.

  Of course Chastity didn’t like the book. If it broke the curse and restored Enchantment to its rightful place, Chastity’s magic would be destroyed.

  Channie inched her hands under the book as if it were a sleeping copperhead. It glowed brighter and poured its magic into her as she lifted it out of the trunk. She bit back her fear then gritted her teeth. She unwound the silver chain from the heart-shaped button with trembling fingers.

  Tendrils of smoke rose from the book, filling the air with incense—sandalwood and lemons layered over a hint of musk. It smelled like Josh.

  She whipped her head around towards the door but he wasn’t there. Another scent mixed with his...it was familiar, sweet and clean.

  Was she imagining it? Chastity’s magic—like any other curse— reeked of burnt onions. But Enchantment’s magic—when it had been her sole source of power—had smelled like lavender and sage.

  Maybe the book was trying to give her a message. Channie closed her eyes and inhaled the heady aroma that was a mixture of Josh’s scent and Enchantment’s magic. Message received. This book was meant for both of them.

  Channie sat on the floor and caressed the book as it filled her head with the magical scent of the boy she loved and the girl she used to be.

  The sound of Josh’s voice yanked her out of her musings and sobered her up immediately.

  He said, “I scrubbed until I ran out of hot water, but I can’t get this red stuff to come off.” Josh’s lanky frame cut angles across the doorway and cast sharp-edged shadows into the hall. His face was hidden under the towel he was using to dry his hair. When he lowered it, the glow from the book illuminated his face and danced in his eyes. “Whoa! Is that magic?”

  “Yes, it’s a book that belonged to one of my ancestors.”

  “What does it say?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t opened it yet.”

  “Okaaay.” He dragged the word out and folded his arms across his chest.

  “I was waiting for you.” Channie hadn’t realized that was what she was doing until that moment, but as soon as she uttered the words she knew it was true.

  Josh adjusted his robe and retied the belt. It was short on him. The hem hit about three inches above his knees. But it was wide enough to wrap around him twice.

  Channie patted the carpet next to her. “Come here.”

  Josh glanced at the broken window. “Why don’t we take the book back to your room? It’s cold in here.”

  “Good idea.” Channie felt fine, but Josh was shivering.

  She sat down on the floor in her room and leaned against the sideboard of her bed. Josh sat beside her and traced the letters of her name. “It looks important.”

  “Oh, it is. Believe me.”

  “Is it dangerous?”

  “Extremely. Do you want to wait for me in the hall while I open it?”

  “Hell no.” Josh frowned, and reached for the book. “In fact, why don’t you let me open it.”

  “No.” Channie jerked the book away from him and clutched it to her chest. “I’ll do it.”

  “Maybe we should do it together.”

  For some reason, Josh’s suggestion rang true. They needed to open the book together. Channie lowered the book and rested it on Josh’s knee.

  He sniffed the air a couple of times, then inhaled deeply. “It smells really good.”

  “It smells like us.”

  “You think so?”

  “I know so. That’s why I’m letting you help me. The book was meant for both of us.”

  Josh pinched the top corner of the cover between his thumb and forefinger while Channie gripped the bottom corner. They opened the book. A cloud of oily black smoke poured from its pages.

  The fumes made Channie’s eyes water and burned her nose. It was worse than the exhaust from their old VW bus. Worse than the hot tar the road crews used to patch the pot-holes in the parking lot at Wal-Mart. Worse than the toxic cloud that filled the valley when Hunter Feenie lit Old Man McCray’s lifetime collection of tractor tires on fire.

  Channie tried to close the book, but her hands refused to obey her brain. Her nose and throat were on fire. She couldn’t see Josh through the thick cloud of toxic fumes, but she could hear him coughing and wheezing. Trying to choke out one word. Her name.

  Channie tried to answer, but she couldn’t breathe and she couldn’t let
go of the book. She managed to lean towards Josh as her mind shut down. He must have done the same, because she wound up lying on his chest, listening to the rhythm of his heart slowdown and fade as darkness claimed her.

  When Channie regained consciousness, she wasn’t sure how long she and Josh had lain on the floor with their hands glued to the evil book.

  Electric prickles coursed under her skin, but it wasn’t magic. It was just a lack of circulation. Her free arm was trapped under Josh’s back. His heart was beating at a normal rate. He was just unconscious, not dead. She tried to slide her arm out without disturbing him, then changed her mind and prodded him with her shoulder. Gently at first, then harder.

  “Josh. Wake up.” Channie yanked her arm free and shook him again. “Come on, Josh. Wake up, baby.”

  His eyes darted back and forth under his eyelids like minnows in a shallow pond. Channie sighed with relief when they finally fluttered open. Josh lifted his chin and said, “Whoa...What happened?”

  “I’m not sure. But we seem to have triggered a spell when we opened the book. Are you okay?”

  “I think so. Are you?”

  “Yes. But we’re stuck to the book.”

  “Not again.” Josh groaned and said, “Can you unstick us?”

  “I don’t even know where to start.”

  “Maybe the answer’s in the book.” Josh shifted his body and sat up. And since Channie was half-way lying on his chest, he brought her with him. She shifted around until she was sitting beside him, their thighs pressed together. The book was open to the first page. But it was blank.

  Channie wasn’t about to risk touching it with her free hand. She tried to turn the pages by blowing on the edges, but no matter how hard she blew, it didn’t so much as rustle a page. She might as well try to blow over a tree.

  She dropped her chin to her chest and said, “I don’t know what to do.”

  Josh kissed the top of Channie’s head. “It’s okay.”

  “I don’t think you understand. This is dark magic. Ancient magic. Illegal magic.”

  “Come on, baby, it can’t be that bad.”