Chapter 31
My eighteenth birthday sneaks up on me quickly. I wake up still thinking of everything that happened this weekend.
After meeting with Sabine on Saturday, I spent the next day working in the shop.
In between readings, I read every article I could about Mr. Dupree’s campaign, searching for any hint that he and the Hightowers could be connected.
I even listened to his stupid podcast episode on the way home.
Other than finding out even more about his despicable views, I couldn’t find anything to tie him to witchcraft.
Gloria’s online presence is nonexistent, and all I could find on Aria is an Instagram page full of poems and abstract photos.
I’m still not sure why he would be wearing the Hightower family crest.
I expect to spend the day continuing to investigate, but Gramps and Orion have other plans. They barge into my room with a heart-shaped lavender cake topped with gold sprinkles. Happy Birthday, Mikaela! is written across the top in looping cursive script.
Their singing is shrill and off pitch, but it’s so full of love it nearly makes my heart burst. I rest both palms on my cheeks as a smile stretches across my face.
“You shouldn’t have!”
“You’re right! This cake cost an arm and a leg!” Gramps teases. He pulls out a box of candles and a lighter from his back pocket, but I shake my head.
“It’s too early! I’d rather have breakfast first.” A sudden thought occurs to me. “Wait, Ri, where’s your cake?”
“I told Gramps I’d rather have a steak dinner.”
At that, Gramps sighs. “You’re both determined to drain my bank account dry.” He ruffles Orion’s hair. “But you only turn eighteen once.”
We all pile into the Cadillac and head to our favorite diner to eat. Gramps orders us both a stack of pancakes and has the waitstaff sing to us. The rest of the restaurant joins in, and I end up covering my face in embarrassment.
Gramps tugs my hands away from my eyes. “Every birthday is a gift,” he says gently.
The reminder sobers me up quick. By this time next week, I could be dead, bleeding out in some forest beneath the light of the full moon. Despite covering the pancakes in a copious amount of butter and maple syrup, each bite tastes like sawdust in my mouth.
Gramps takes us to see a movie and afterward, we head to a steak house so Orion can have his ribeye at the lunch price because Gramps isn’t made of money—his words, not mine.
When we finally make it back to the house, I’m stuffed full of carbs and ready for a nap, but Gramps stops us at the door. “The day isn’t over yet,” he says with a playful glint in his eyes. “Be dressed and meet me here by five thirty. I’ve got a surprise for you both.”
Orion and I exchange a glance.
“I think I’ve had enough surprises to last a lifetime,” I say. “Can you at least give us a hint?”
“Nope. Wear something nice.” With that, he strolls into the living room and flips on the TV.
We take the stairs two at a time, huddling together in the upstairs hallway like two kids on Christmas. “He’s throwing us a party, isn’t he?” I ask.
Orion smirks. “He thinks he’s so slick, but this coven will use any excuse to party.”
My heart sinks as I think about Lizzie. I haven’t talked to her since Chris died, but I know she and the other coven kids are likely to be at any party Gramps throws.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” I ask. “Shouldn’t we be in mourning? And, I mean, people could still drop dead at any time.”
Ri chews on his lip. “You know as well as I do that you’ve only got a week before your vision either comes true or not. I think we should have fun, at least for tonight.”
“One night only.” Like a twisted movie showing, only this is real life and anything could happen.
“It’ll be fine,” Orion says, forcing a smile. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Famous last words. I give a stiff nod and retreat to my bedroom to pick out an outfit.
Bright colors have never really been my thing. Purple may be my favorite color, but there’s none of it in my wardrobe. Instead, I stare at a closet full of black fabric and wonder why I’ve spent my life dressing like I’m in a state of constant mourning.
Buried deep at the back of my closet is a plastic storage bin of Mom’s old clothes.
Gran gave it to me freshman year, once she thought I was old enough to take an interest. I could barely bring myself to open the lid; instead, I shoved it to the back and tried to forget about it.
But now I drag it out into the center of the room and stare at it for so long, my vision doubles. Just do it, I tell myself.
Before I can change my mind, I open the bin and stare down at the piles of fabric. An array of colors greets me. Blouses and dresses in every shade from pastel pinks to deep reds and blues.
I kneel on the carpet and pull every single piece out, laying them out on the floor in a semicircle around me. Nothing feels right until I find a white ankle-length dress with a skirt made of ruffled tulle. I cross the room to my full-length mirror and hold it up in front of my body.
As I stare at my reflection, I can almost imagine that it’s really Mom staring back at me.
She may not be here physically, but she’s always with me, in the slope of my nose and the color of my eyes.
I’ve always envied her for the stories of her confident power.
But maybe I could hold my own against her.
Like a plain white canvas, this dress will be my blank slate. This is the beginning of a new chapter in my story. Today, I am reborn.
As soon as we step into the gymnasium at the community center, a chorus of people erupts in shouts of “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” The room is decorated in balloons and streamers, and there’s a long table filled with gifts and some circular tables scattered around the room with centerpieces and place mats.
Uncle Larry mans a DJ booth in the corner, playing a mash-up of bounce music and old-school hip-hop.
He obviously doesn’t care to play any music released after 2000.
I turn to Gramps and pull him into a hug. “What a surprise!” I shout into his ear over the eardrum-busting music. He doesn’t need to know that Orion and I saw this coming from a mile away.
“Anything for you, baby girl.” He grabs Orion and squeezes both of us tight. “Y’all are the light of my life. The day you were born was one of my best days.”
I blink back tears, determined not to cry in front of all these people. “We love you, Gramps,” I say. “Thank you for everything.”
“I don’t know what we’d do without you,” Orion adds, a rare display of emotion from him.
Gramps holds his gaze for a long moment. They’ve had their ups and downs, but family is more important than anything.
“Go on,” Gramps says, finally breaking eye contact. “Go have fun.”
Orion doesn’t need to be told twice. He makes a beeline for Malik, who’s seated at a table with Aunt Lorraine and his mom. I take half a step toward the gift table when Aunt Roberta touches my elbow.
“Happy birthday, baby!” She plants a kiss on my cheek, leaving behind the imprint of her bright red lipstick, I’m sure. “I want to give you this myself.”
She hands me a small pink gift bag filled with white paper. I reach past it and grasp a plastic-wrapped Moleskine notebook. It’s personalized with my initials embossed in the bottom corner.
“Auntie,” I begin, but she interrupts me, rushing forward to explain.
“My mother kept very detailed journals during the course of her life. There are boxes and boxes filled with her writings, from the time she was a little girl until the day she died.” Aunt Roberta’s eyes shift down to the notebook in my hands.
“Life flies by in the blink of an eye. The only way we can slow down the passage of time is to write it down. That way, you can always look back and see how far you’ve come. ”
I never told my aunt that I’d stumbled across one of Grandma Rose’s journals. I think of her neat script lining every page, and I imagine filling this journal with my own inner thoughts.
“Thank you,” I say. “But I don’t even think I have enough time to fill half these pages.” I’m going to die in a week unless, by some miracle, I find a way to change the outcome of my vision.
Aunt Roberta squeezes my hand. “You’ve got a future as bright as a supernova, baby girl. You’re going to survive, and you’ll fill up every single last page.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her. The scent of her perfume transports me back in time to a moment when I embraced another woman I love. Gran loved the scent of lavender too. It was a trait shared by the sisters who’d grown up sharing everything.
When Aunt Roberta releases me, I excuse myself and retreat from the gym in search of the bathroom. My eyes are misty with tears when I push through the door. Even through my hazy vision, I see Lizzie’s face clear as day.
We stare at each other for a long moment before she sinks into my open arms. We cling together as we sob.
She cries for Chris and all the possibilities that died with him.
I cry for Gran, who will never see how much I’ve grown.
Once we’ve sobbed enough to fill a bathtub with our tears, we stand at the sink, dabbing at our makeup with scratchy paper towels.
Thick streaks of clumpy mascara run down Lizzie’s cheeks as she scrubs it off.
“I’m sorry to kill the mood. This is your big day. I should be happy,” she says, peering at me in the mirror.
“No, you have a right to your feelings. You lost someone you cared about. That pain doesn’t go away overnight.”
“You’re right.” She drops the mascara-stained paper towel into the garbage and grasps the edge of the sink. “I don’t know whether to be sad that he’s gone or afraid that I’ll be next.”
“It’s okay to be feel a little bit of both.” I reach for her hand and squeeze. “Gramps isn’t going to let this go.”
“I know.” She lowers her voice. “The Council’s been reaching out to adults in the coven. My parents got a phone call. They were asked whether they’d be willing to participate in an attack.”
My blood runs cold. Gramps deliberately left me out of that discussion. I wonder what else the coven has been doing behind my back.
For all Gramps’s talk about handing me the baton and taking a step back, it seems that he’s not quite ready to give up control.
“That’s—”
The door to the bathroom swings open violently, slamming into the doorstop with a loud bang. Orion stands in the doorway, panting with wild eyes. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Get your ass back to the gym!”
“What is it?”
He takes off at a sprint, so Lizzie and I have no choice but to follow. Our footsteps echo through the halls as we race at his heels. When we make it back to the gym, pandemonium awaits.
Multiple people are splayed out on the floor, convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Those not infected are attempting to heal them. Gramps kneels over a figure lying prone on the floor. I would recognize those suede pumps anywhere.
“Auntie, no!”
I fall to my knees at Aunt Roberta’s side, heart stuttering in my chest as I stare at her red-stained eyes and golden veins pulsating beneath her skin. Gramps has both hands on her chest. His pupils are blown wide as he looks up at me.
“Mikaela,” he gasps.
I rest my hands over his. “Not her,” I say. “I won’t let them take her from me too.”
At my side, Orion falls to his knees, joining us. “Together,” he says.
I close my eyes and sink every bit of magic I have into my aunt’s body. Orion and Gramps do the same. Sweat beads on my forehead as I exert all my energy into calling on my healing magic.
The darkness fights us as a shrill sound assaults us, like an ice pick to the brain.
I grit my teeth, determined not to give in until every last bit of darkness is eradicated from her body.
Inch by inch, we beat back the evil cloud, until her body is rid of the demonic infestation.
When I crack open my eyes, her skin no longer glows gold.
Her breathing is labored and shallow, but she’s still alive.
Most importantly, when I touch her skin, the spark of her magic still stings my fingertips.
Gramps sits back on his heels and all his joints audibly crack. He looks completely worn-out as the light dulls in his eyes. He planned this perfect night for us, and it’s been ruined and marked by death.
“What happened?”
Orion is the one to answer. “Someone brought out the snacks and cupcakes, and everyone flocked to grab plates. Pretty soon after, people started dropping like flies.”
We both stand and peer around at the destruction. Some of those sickened are still alive, brought back from the brink of death like Aunt Roberta. Others are still and motionless, with the mark of the demon branded on their skin.
Lizzie and Malik find us quickly, both wearing similar haunted expressions. “What the hell?” Malik asks. “When does this end? When everyone’s dead?”
I curl my hands into fists. “It stops here. No one else dies while I’m here.”
I stalk back over to Gramps. “We need a Council meeting.”
He nods without a word. I leave him then, walking around the room to assess who’s still alive.