“You don’t like any of my nicknames.”
I shake my head. “They’re utterly horrible.”
He laughs. Then it fades away. The crumble of glass under my feet fills the silence between us as I shift my weight. Carter raises an eyebrow. “Well, now we know my theory was right: we’re connected somehow, and the closer we are the better the magic is.”
“I think you’re looking for ways to keep tabs on me,” I say.
He laughs. “Maybe I am, Nell. Maybe I am.”
I groan. “That’s even worse. I think I prefer Penny Sue.”
“So you like Penny Sue?”
“Not particularly.”
“Maybe I should call you Jiminy and carry you around in my pocket forever.”
He steps in closer when he says it. “Forever” lingers in my ear. He’s so near to me I’m sure he can hear my heartbeat. He doesn’t look away from me, and his breath tingles on my skin. I blame the magic. There’s nothing sexier than magic. I really need to snap out of this.
“What’s the point of all this, Carter?” I ask.
“I’m trying to figure it out. Why would our paths cross? Why does our magic work better together? What are you?”
I blink and step away. He’s got to be kidding. But he’s still rambling about how he’s different or I’m different and how can this even happen. He thinks I’m something else. Something NOT. The magic stirs inside me like it wants to get out again, and I cross my arms.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask. The annoyance is in my tone, but I don’t care. I dig my nails into my elbow so I don’t hit someone. Someone named Carter.
Carter looks up at me; his eyes shift, melt a little as he realizes what he said. “I didn’t mean anything.”
“You think I’m—what? What do you think I am?”
“Nothing,” he says. “That’s not—”
He reaches out for me. As soon as his hand touches mine, my anger and the magic collide. There’s a bang as the Dumpster across the alley flies up into the air and lands sideways. He gulps next to me.
“I guess you’re pissed. I didn’t mean it that way. Not at all. I swear.”
I shake my head and I push him away from me.
“Pen—”
“It’s Penelope—and I’ve figured out your secret too.”
“I don’t have a secret,” he says.
“You do,” I say. I cross my arms. “That little demon-tracking craze of yours.”
“You don’t know anything about that,” he says.
I push him away again and huff. “I don’t even know why I’m still talking to you.”
“Because you need me. Our magic—”
“I don’t need anyone, especially you,” I say. I turn on my heel and stalk off, over the crunching shards of glass. Ironic. Ten minutes ago I thought I finally had a solution to everything—I was that close to having all my dreams. Guess that’s what happens when you wake up.
“What’s wrong?” Connie asks when I get home. After I left Carter, I went for a run and now I’m drenched from sweat and rain. I pull the earbuds out of my ears and toss them onto my bed. Connie leans in the bathroom doorway, her arms crossed. Screamo music blares through the earphones. I don’t stop it. My shoes fly across the room into the corner.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, pushing past her into the bathroom. “I want to shower.”
“You’re upset about something. You ran during a storm. Gran was pretty angry that you didn’t come home after class. There were two more demon attacks while you were gone; she was worried.”
“Aren’t we all?” I mutter. Connie clears her throat, and I know that she wants to reach out for me. It’s what she does. But she knows me; she knows that I don’t like being touched when I’m upset.
“What happened? How was class?”
Connie looks at me like she’s searching for something I’m not saying. I refuse to tell her about Carter. If I tell her my magic works with some random boy, she won’t believe me. Or worse, she will. Actually, I’m not sure what’s worse. All I know is I tried to move this dead cat off the road during my run, and I couldn’t even conjure up magic to do that. I’m useless alone. It was bad enough when I only had power with Connie or Gran or Pop, and now it’s someone else. I can’t explain anything to her, so I need to keep it close until I know why.
“Nothing extraordinary,” I say, instead.
“There’s nothing you want to talk about?”
I shake my head.
“If you need me,” Connie says as she exits to her side of the bathroom. I nod and lock her bathroom door behind her.
Chapter Eight
All my dreams felt haunted, posing as dark corners, lost paths, and clowns. I hate clowns. I spent my restless night looking in the dark and never finding anything. Not an answer, not even a clue. I woke up unable to remember what I was searching for in the first place. Coffee couldn’t ease the headache pounding in my skull.
“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Ric says when I get into his car. I glare at him and he doesn’t say a word until we part ways in Nucleus House. He knows me well enough not to push me when I’m in a bad mood. Plus, we were up texting until the middle of the night. It took everything I had not to say anything I shouldn’t, especially now that Carter knew my secret.
When I get into the room, Maple, Kessa, and Beth are standing off to the left. Miriam is not with them, which means that she’s probably been dismissed. No one says it but the numbers in the room are hard to ignore. Only thirty girls remain now.
Mrs. Bentham takes her place in the front of the room, which feels emptier now with fewer people, and clears her throat. “Ladies, welcome again. As witches, our duty to protect Nons exists not only in magic or the sacraments, but in brains, in brawn, and in blade.” On cue, she pulls out a combat knife and holds it up to the light all dramatic-like. She totally rehearsed that. With it, she motions to the table next to her where a bow and arrow, more knives, and salt guns all rest. “Or bow or bullet. You get the idea.
“Today’s examination will test these skills, but with demons. Can you defend yourself in a demon attack? What about in front of Nons? And without magic? Demons can be tricky, but it’s your job to be smarter. Penelope Grey, you are first today.”
When she says my name my palms itch. The other girls look at me, and part like the Red Sea so I can pass between them. Mrs. Bentham presses her lips into a solid line. “Follow me,” she says.
The door to the examination room is closed, but her hand rests on the doorknob. “Everything in this test is magically simulated specifically to test your skills with three weapons—knife, salt gun, bow and arrow—which are hidden within the scenery of each scenario. Understand?”
“Yes.”
She continues. “You will be dismissed if you use magic, fail to use a weapon provided, fail to kill a demon while utilizing your provided weapon, cause a reaction from Nons, or get injured in any way. Failure to succeed in all three scenarios will be a dismissal.”
“Got it,” I say. “Don’t suck.”
Mrs. Bentham doesn’t even crack a smile. “Your test begins when you open the door.”
She leaves me there, standing in the hallway. I take a second to focus, to push everything else out of my head so I can think. A knife, a bow and arrow, and a gun in a fake TV-like setting. How hard can that be? I open the door.
Freaking hard.
I can’t find a weapon anywhere.
The demon swipes its feet across my ankles. I lose my balance and slam to the ground. It makes a kick toward me, but I roll away from it, sliding across the floor, which is set to emulate rocks. I’m going to feel that fall in the morning. This thing is ridiculous. It feels like I’ve been fighting this demon for hours. It’s like they turbocharged it just for this exam.