Page 131 of Bound By Fury

I WOULD BE LYING IF I said I haven’t been waiting anxiously by the phone for Maureen to call and tell me that she’s finally set up a meeting with the Asheville coven. Now that I know there are more people out there like me, I can’t stop fantasizing about what it will be like to meet them. Will they look like me and Gigi? Will I be able to feel it? The connection between us?

It wasn’t long before I broke down and called her. When she didn’t answer, I left a voicemail. But that was a few days ago already.

In the meantime I’ve spent any spare moment I have in my room, struggling to master my power, to wield it at will instead of succumbing to it. I empty my mind and envision what it looks like.

It’s a mass of golden rope coiled at my core. I reach toward it, unraveling the tendril like a whisper, gently extending it outside myself, guiding and training it to do my bidding.

Sometimes it feels controlled and lethal. Sometimes it sputters, and I’m not sure why. I try to call it, but where there should be a swell, it’s merely a leak. Over and over and over again, I wrestle with my power until my brain feels like overworked dough.

In the moments between practicing and classes and homework, I’m tucked into Lucas’s side. It’s the only way I can sleep. In fits and starts throughout the day. Dreamless. Devoid of nagging whispers and static like panic in my chest. Though, when I wake, I feel more tired than before, until it becomes nearly impossible to wake at all.

When I showed him the bracelet, he didn’t seem surprised.

“She must have dropped it somewhere on campus,” he said sadly, eyes wide as he poked at it. “Curt the daytime security guard is kinda weird. Keeps a couple lost and found boxes in the cabin. Things he swears people will come back for one day, even though the school’s policy is to throw stuff out if it’s not claimed after a year.

“You should give it to Missy,” he added. “I think that’s what Fiona would have wanted.”

I nodded. I’d already been considering it, even though so far I hadn’t been able to force myself to show anyone but him.

Things with us are still uncertain. I can tell sometimes when he looks at me that he wants us to be more than whatever this in-between thing is, but I’m just not there yet. And it wouldn’t be fair to promise him something I can’t give. Especially when my nights alone are still plagued with nightmares. Piercing green eyes and raven beaks, knife-sharp feathers and blood-red cloaks.

This is why the dance tonight is going to be so good for me—for all of us. Or at least that’s what I’m telling myself. I’m ready to put Maureen and Fiona and Asheville and magic lessons out of my head for one night.

For one night I can forget about Malachi, forget about the crushing weight of grief that still strangles me in my sleep when I’m alone. I can forget about the hedge maze and moonlit daggers and the disembodied voice.

I can forget about the loneliness of the eternal dark.

Sam and I link arms as we approach the propped-open doors of the gym. Their costume turned out more greaser than Thackery Binx, but they still look amazing. I’ve pulled my hair back into two large buns, curls loose around my face. My lips are bright red, and my eyes are shrouded in a dark purple and green shadow. I’ve emphasized the smattering of freckles across my nose with glitter and brushed some along my chest.

Daisy is a fashion genius, and the emerald corset top with gold detailing and long bell sleeves she found for me lies over a full violet skirt that hits halfway down my thighs. I didn’t want to wear fishnets, but Daisy insisted they make me look hot(ter). I don’t disagree.

“Oh. My. God,” Daisy says as we cross the threshold into the gym and her eyes grow wide. “This is amazing!”

The gymnasium has been completely transformed. Large wooden dividers section off a haunted house with different scare sets themed after classic horror icons. The ceilings are littered with fake spiderwebs, and purple and orange strobe lights flash in time to the music that’s luring students to the dance floor.

“It’s all right, I guess,” Missy says, her eyes cutting to the group of cheerleaders in the corner. They quickly turn away when they spot her.

“Fucking losers,” I mutter, angling my body between them.

Daisy’s top lip curls when she sees Missy’s face. “Who cares what those dicks-for-brains think? Let them stay miserable.”

“Yeah,” Missy says, her face flattening with disinterest. “Totally.”

“Uh, let’s find something to drink,” Sam calls over their shoulder as they pull us behind them. “If we don’t have fun tonight, I swear I’m going to have a mental breakdown.”

Ha, I think. Same.

We weave our way through the different sets, screaming with each new jump scare orchestrated by actors from the drama department. It’s not long before I feel it: a slow release. A tentative, temporary relaxation between my shoulder blades.

Our cheeks are pink and sore from smiling by the time we reach the room set up like a creepy doctor’s office, the exam table covered in snacks and a bowl of fruit punch with ice meant to look like eyeballs. We pour ourselves drinks, Sam sliding a flask from their jacket pocket and tipping two healthy servings into each of our cups.

“I’m glad you decided to come,” they say as we stand outside the haunted pathway.

I lean my head on their shoulder. “Yeah, me too.”

And for once, I really mean it.

We join Daisy and Missy, who are swaying their hips hilariously offbeat to a tune no one else can hear. Everyone around us jumps up and down, flinging their arms in the air, matching the tempo of the fast-paced hip-hop song that plays over the speakers.