Read Phantom Eyes (Witch Eyes) Online

Authors: Scott Tracey

Tags: #teen, #teen fiction, #ya, #Belle Dam, #ya fiction, #witch, #scott tracey, #vision, #phantom eyes

Phantom Eyes (Witch Eyes) (9 page)

BOOK: Phantom Eyes (Witch Eyes)
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thirteen

On
e of the drivers was waiting out in front of the house when I was done. I’d tried to find Jason before I left—unsure about what I would even say—but I couldn’t find him anywhere. I let it go. If Jason wanted to hide, then who was I to judge him for it? He’d already done more than enough for me.

The ferry was on the south side of the marina, almost at the edge of the city. I hadn’t spent much time around there other than the visits to the Harbor Club. Matthias’s club was a few blocks away, tucked away in the middle of an industrial zone.

There was no time for me to second-guess anything, because as we pulled up in the parking lot, the dock workers were hustling the last few people on board. I bolted out of the car, worried about what would happen if I ended up getting left behind. Would they wait for me? Or would they take it as a sign of bad faith and take off?

I couldn’t risk it. I ran for the ferry, even as I was remembering the bus I’d gotten on that had ultimately led me to Belle Dam in the first place. Back then, all I’d cared about was trying to keep Uncle John safe, and maybe figuring out where I’d come from and why I was born with the powers I had.

The strange feeling in my chest returned the moment I set foot onto the ferry. I was one of the last ones on, making it just under the wire. Guys in plastic ponchos hustled me forward, and I ended up speed-walking towards the cabin. The sky was a thick sea of clouds, and the rain started even before we pulled away from the harbor.

The fluttering in my chest, the strange sensations that had been bothering me for days now, intensified and reminded me of the visions. But the visions always came from the outside in—seeing things that had happened in the rest of the world. But this was like something from the inside, coming from the void in my chest where my power had once been. This time, though, it wasn’t an aviary. It was a hurricane of feathers, tracing lines up and down the emptiness, marking its vastness.

It had been the worst when I was with Grace. And she’d stared at me while it happened, like she was waiting to see something. Were we connected now? When she stole my power, did something else get created in its place? I’d attacked Lucien once and tapped into his ability to read futures. Maybe this was something like that?

Although I didn’t know how the echolike feelings that coursed through me could do any good. They were just reminders of what wasn’t there anymore. That Grace could do whatever she wanted with my power, and I was helpless to stop her.

I sank down on one of the benches and watched the sky open up all around us, blanketing the ferry in a curtain of water. “Great,” I muttered. I was going to get drenched when I got off later.

“What are you?” I don’t know why I thought to question it out loud, but there was predictably no response. When the winter voice had been a part of me, it would answer my questions. Maybe I expected this new feeling to work the same way.

The feeling kept strengthening, more and more invisible birds added to the process, until I thought it couldn’t possibly get any more distracting. It felt like actual butterflies in my chest, except that there were thousands more than should have actually been able to fit. I knew I’d put on some weight and all, but I was fairly certain I hadn’t swallowed a quarter of a million overgrown bugs.

Like the crescendo in a song, the feeling built to a fever pitch, and was suddenly silenced as quickly as it had started. For a moment, just a fraction in time, the hole in my chest stopped aching. I felt
connected.
Like it wasn’t a hole, but a rope, and hanging on the other end was something familiar.

I smelled vanilla perfume and fresh-cut flowers. Earthy smells, but ordered. A garden, not the forest. A hint of rust and iron and the smell of the sky right after a lightning strike.

“I’m sorry, mistress,” a girl said. Elle. I heard her voice as clear as if it had come from my own mouth and felt the rumble of my own chest.

“It is the price and the balance,”
another voice responded, but this one had no sound. It was like hearing without ears, thoughts given a form that was not audible nor visual. “
It seems your counsel was wise, and the boy retains a purpose.”

The connection snapped closed.

Grace. And Elle. I should have figured that out already. Elle had started moving around town about the time that Grace started to get more active. She’d showed up right around the time that I’d needed saving from the psychotic little girl in a princess dress, and banished her back wherever ghosts came from. She’d been tall and gorgeous, and liked flirting with me too much.

Elle had also been the first one to see that there had been something wrong with me. The infection of Lucien’s power that had started to cloud my judgment. That must have been how Grace found out about me—Elle had been telling her everything.

Was she a ghost like the others? I’d seen her use magic, but that didn’t mean anything. Ben was a ghost, but he was able to use my blood to control me.

The wave of dizziness caught me off guard, and it was a good thing I was already seated. I leaned over, pressing my fingertips against my forehead. I couldn’t tell if it was being on the ferry or from what I’d just seen, but the way dinner was roiling in my stomach, I knew this wasn’t going to end well. What a cliché. First time on a ferry, or a boat of any kind, and I was going to have to drop my dinner over the side.

No. I refuse.
I lowered my head down to my knees and spent the next forty minutes breathing slowly and surely, forcing myself to keep everything in my stomach where it belonged. It was a slow battle, and for some reason when the ferry docked on the other side of the bay, I felt like it was the best kind of victory. I was immeasurably proud of myself all for doing nothing more than keeping myself from throwing up.

The pier on the other side looked identical to the one I’d just left, but now I wasn’t in a rush, so I could actually notice all the details. The railings were red-painted metal, thicker than my arm. I was the only one who got off. I walked down the dock, noticing the nearly empty parking lot.
That’s not creepy or anything.
I had a healthy appreciation for what could be hiding in the dark. This close to midnight, there was no telling what could be waiting for me.

The couple standing under one of the corner lot lights didn’t exactly fit the mold as far as supernatural terrors went, though. I wondered if they planned it like that, standing under the light like some sort of message. Or maybe they just wanted me to see them.

They didn’t look like witches. Not that witches looked like anything in particular, but Jason seemed to think they could protect me. I didn’t see it. The man, my mother’s brother, looked world-weary in his black pea coat and days of scruff. He had dirty blond hair, but maybe that was a trick of the light. His hands were tucked inside the coat pockets, the expression on his face pensive. Sad.

The woman, though—my aunt—was completely different. Her hair was long and honey brown, and she looked both nervous and excited. When her brother nudged her in the side at my approach, a full smile blossomed on her face, and it made my stomach churn again.

My footsteps faltered.
They’re going to expect too much out of me. I’m just going to disappoint them.
I stopped where I was, but I didn’t turn away. It would be easy enough to turn around and run back to the ferry. I doubted they would follow me. The ferry would be docked here for almost half an hour before it made one last trip back to Belle Dam.

The woman put her hand on her brother’s arm, and even at this distance I could see her squeezing him. Her face was an open book, and I could see the dismay. But they stayed where they were, and I stayed where I was, and there was a stalemate.

Anxiety flooded through my system, and it was an endless stream of thoughts that started with
They’re going to want,
or
I don’t think I can,
or
What if they?
Each one was crazier than the one before. I
knew
it was crazy, but I couldn’t stop myself. The panic needed a voice, only there were too many vo
ices in my head already.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and did the only thing I could think. I called Trey.

He answered immediately. “What’s wrong?”

I exhaled as I laughed, but I could hear the quaver in my own voice. “I don’t think I can do this.”

I heard traffic sounds in the background. Trey’s voice was tight. Troubled. “Where are you?”

“I … took the ferry.” I couldn’t admit to Trey that I was thinking about leaving. “Jason found … my mom had family. He thinks they might be able to help me.” I closed my eyes, swallowed down my shame.

“The ferry,” Trey mused, which was not the part I thought he’d get stuck on. There were sounds of movement and a low voice in the background, but I couldn’t make anything out. “Okay, Drew’s going to be waiting for you when you ge
t back.”

“What? Why? Trey, I’m fine.”

“It’s just for my piece of mind,” Trey said after a long pause. “You shouldn’t be walking around without someone there.”

“Fine, whatever,” I said. Clearly, overprotective Trey wasn’t going anywhere. “Did you hear the rest of what I said? Jason found my mom’s siblings. They’re here.”

It was like a switch flipped, and the weird tension was gone. “Are you okay?” Trey asked, his voice dropping down.

“I don’t know. It’s weird.”

“Where are you? Are they there?”

I eyed the distance. “They’re like fifty feet away? Maybe more. I suck at depth perception.”

Trey made a hmm-ing sound. “Do they look like axe murderers?”

I barked out a laugh, not expecting that. “I don’t know. How do I know if they’re axe murderers? Is there a dress code?”

Trey’s tone was dry. “There’s usually an axe.”

I snorted, cradling the phone against my shoulder. “Don’t make me laugh. This is supposed to be serious. You’re ruining it.”

“I’m a terrible human being,” he agreed, the phone line crackling.

“You’re starting to sound a lot like Drew,” I said, looking away from the relatives. “I don’t know anything about them,” I said a moment later, my voice dropping. “What if they’re evil? Jason says they’re not, but he thought Lucien was a cuddly version of a demon.” And then even softer. “What if they hate me?”

“They won’t hate you. Unless they’re Amish. I’m pretty sure your sarcastic ways would be lost on the Amish.”

I smiled, but sober thoughts took over far too soon. I couldn’t laugh this conversation off. There was too much attached to it. There was more to this conversation than just a first impression. I’d be leaving everything behind. “What do you think I should do?”

“I think you should walk fifty more feet and then say ‘Hi, my name’s Braden. I’m only mildly annoying.’”

This time, I didn’t laugh. “Stop trying to distract me. This is serious.”

“Well, are you still panicking?”

I … wasn’t. There were still nerves rushing through my system, but the stifling panic wasn’t part of the equation any
more. I could move my feet, and that meant I had to go. There was only so much time until the ferry left for its return trip back to the city. “I have
to go.”

“Remember, you’re only mildly annoying,” Trey said encouragingly from the other end.

“I hate you,” I laughed.

“You really don’t,” Trey said, sounding the most serious he had the entire phone call. “And if they don’t figure out how lucky they are to get to know you, then screw them. We’ll figure something else out.”

This time my hesitation didn’t have anything to do with my fear. “Trey … ”

“Go be brilliant,” he said gruffly, ending the call before I could respond.

I started walking forward again, sliding my phone back into my pocket. Their expressions hadn’t wavered, not since I made the call, but I could see some of the woman’s tension ease when I started approaching again. Maybe I wasn’t the only one who was nervous.

There was no joyous reunion or anything like that. I approached, and they waited. Even though I took my time and let my nerves run free, they didn’t move. They let
me
approach
them
like I was an abused dog they were trying not to spook.

When I was finally close enough to introduce myself, I opened my mouth but my tongue was frozen. She was younger than I thought she’d be. My mother’s sister was maybe in her thirties, and something about her
reminded me of Catherine. It wasn’t just that they were both blond, it was something I couldn’t see. The way they carried themselves, the sharpness in their eyes. Inner steel.

She might not look like it, but she’s a predator.
I could almost picture her taking on hellhounds with nothing more than a couple of knives. It was all there, in the way that she stood, in the way she looked at me and still watched the rest of the parking lot. Even still, I wasn’t scared of her. If anything, it put me at ease.

“Hi,” I said, looking down at my shoes. “I’m Braden.” I wouldn’t repeat the rest, no matter what Trey said.

“Rose’s son,” the woman said warmly. “Look at you.”

“Braden,” the man said in greeting, tucking his hands behind his back. Unlike his sister, he was exactly as old as I expected, in his forties like Jason. His skin was weathered and lined and dark from the sun. He didn’t look like he smiled much. Jason would have liked him.

“Sorry, I’m off my game,” the woman said with a sigh. “I’m Anna. And this is my brother Patrick,” she said, gesturing to her brother.

“Hi,” I said again.

The smile on her face warmed even more. “Hi,” she replied. Tears started to shimmer in her eyes, and when she opened her mouth, the words tangled up. She shook her head, laughed, and looked away. It took her a minute to pull herself together.

“Jonathan never said a word,” Patrick said, taking the lead from his sister. “You have to understand, it’s a little raw for us. We never knew … we thought that when your mom died, that you … ”

BOOK: Phantom Eyes (Witch Eyes)
13.08Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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