Page 21 of Haunting the Deep

“This is exactly my point. You’re not paying attention. Do you think I invited you off the street randomly?”

“No, probably not, but—”

“Obviously not. Now stop hovering and sit, because I’m only going to say this once.”

“Say what?” I eye her multicolored pillows.

“You started something with that spell of yours. Now sit down!”

And I do. “The spell we did last night? How do you even know about that?”

“Don’t bother asking me that question. Iknow.I’ve been around a lot longer than you have, and that’s that. Now, what I was saying was that you and your friends started something last night, and you all must finish it.”

I scratch my forehead. “We weren’t starting anything. I was trying tostopseeing spirits.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous. There is nothing that will stop you from seeing spirits. You either see them or you don’t.”

Who is she? Alice’s older twin? “Yeah, I’m getting that.”

She inspects me. “You think you have it hard, do you? Feel sorry for yourself? You have agift.Knock it off.”

I meet her eyes, my temper sparking. “I definitely didn’t come in here for this.”

“You disagree?” she scoffs. “You have a natural ability with magicandyou see spirits. You’re young, rich, white, and healthy, for crying out loud. You areprivileged.You have every opportunity to do spells because you live in Salem in a time when no one will jail you. That’s just the short list. Now use your brain for a moment and think about how much more difficult it could be. If you were half as smart or right as you think you are, you wouldn’t be arguing with me, you’d belistening.”

I stare at her, my jaw clenched, but I don’t say a word. She’s right.

She rests her arms on the table, and her silver bracelets clink against the wood. She shakes a finger at me. “This is why I don’t help people anymore. You know what Sartre said? He said, ‘Hell is other people.’ And I quite agree.”

I half laugh. “You have a funny way of trying to help people.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “I’m trying to warn you. You and your friends are about as subtle as drunk monkeys. And you’ll pay for it. So will lots of others, if I’m reading things correctly.”

My pulse quickens. Maybe she’s not just a cranky weirdo. “What do you mean? Is someone in danger? Arewein danger?” All the sarcasm has left my voice.

She grabs my hands. Her expression is dead serious. “Stop being so blind. You need to think past yourself, past your friends and your problems.”

I try to pull my hands back, but she has a firm hold. “What did we do with the spell last night? What do you think we started?”

She leans even closer to me. “You know that better than I do.”

I swallow. “Does this have something to do with the key Alice found or the dreams I’ve been having?”

She releases my hands, and I pull them back quickly. “I’ve said too much already. And I promised myself I wouldn’t get involved.”

Now I lean toward her. “You haven’t said anything specific.”

She sighs. “I don’t know the specifics and I don’t want to. All I know is that the course you’re all on right now will bring death. There—I’ve told you, which means I can thoroughly wash my hands of this whole mess.” She stands up. “It’s time for you to go.”

“Wait a second, you can’t just say we’re headed toward death and then not explain it.” I stand up, too. “Who do you think is going to die?”

She frowns. “It wasn’t clear.”

“Me?”

She hesitates. “Possibly.”

“My friends? My family?”