Read The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection Online

Authors: L. J. Smith

Tags: #Young Adult, #Fantasy, #Romance, #Vampires, #Juvenile Fiction, #Teenage Girls, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Love & Romance, #Witchcraft, #Fiction, #Fantasy & Magic, #Social Issues, #Young Adult Fiction, #love, #Dating & Sex, #Massachusetts

The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection (2 page)

BOOK: The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection
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Normally Cassie was shy around guys, especially guys she didn’t know, but this was only some poor worker from the fishing boats, and she felt sorry for him, and she wanted to be nice, and besides she couldn’t help it. And so when she felt herself start to sparkle back at him, her laughter bubbling up in response to his smile, she let it happen. In that instant it was as if they were sharing a secret, something nobody else on the beach could understand. The dog wiggled ecstatically, as if he were in on it too.
“
Cassie
,” came Portia’s fuming hiss.
Cassie felt herself turn red, and she tore her eyes away from the guy’s face. Portia was looking apoplectic.
“Raj!” the boy said, not laughing anymore. “Heel!”
With apparent reluctance, the dog backed away from Cassie, tail still wagging. Then, in a spray of sand, he bounded toward his master. It isn’t fair, Cassie thought again. The boy’s voice startled her.
“
Life
isn’t fair,” he said.
Shocked, her eyes flew up to his face.
His own eyes were as dark as the sea in a storm. She saw that clearly, and for a moment she was almost frightened, as if she had glimpsed something forbidden, something beyond her comprehension. But powerful. Something powerful and strange.
And then he was walking away, the dog frisking behind him. He didn’t look back.
Cassie stared after him, astounded. She hadn’t spoken aloud; she was sure she hadn’t spoken aloud. But then how could he have heard her?
Her thoughts were shattered by a hiss at her side. Cassie cringed, knowing exactly what Portia was going to say. That dog probably had mange and fleas and worms and scrofula. Cassie’s towel was probably crawling with parasites right this minute.
But Portia didn’t say it. She too was staring after the retreating figures of the boy and dog as they went up a dune, then turned along a little path in the beach grass. And although she was clearly disgusted, there was something in her face—a sort of dark speculation and suspicion that Cassie had never seen before.
“What’s the matter, Portia?”
Portia’s eyes had narrowed. “I think,” she said slowly, through tight lips, “that I’ve seen him before.”
“You already said so. You saw him on the fish pier.”
Portia shook her head impatiently. “Not
that
. Shut up and let me think.”
Stunned, Cassie shut up.
Portia continued to stare, and after a few moments she began nodding, little nods to confirm something to herself. Her face was flushed blotchily, and not with sunburn.
Abruptly, still nodding, she muttered something and stood up. She was breathing quickly now.
“Portia?”
“I’ve got to do something,” Portia said, waving a hand at Cassie without looking at her. “You stay here.”
“What’s going
on
?”
“Nothing!” Portia glanced at her sharply. “Nothing’s going on. Just forget all about it. I’ll see you later.” She walked off, moving quickly, heading up the dunes toward the cottage her family owned.
Ten minutes ago, Cassie would have said she’d be deliriously happy just to have Portia leave her alone, for any reason. But now she found she couldn’t enjoy it. Her mind was all churned up, like the choppy blue-gray water before a gale. She felt agitated and distressed and almost frightened.
The strangest thing was what Portia had muttered before getting up. It had been under her breath, and Cassie didn’t think she could have heard it right. It must have been something else, like “snitch,” or “bitch,” or “rich.”
She
must
have heard it wrong. You couldn’t call a
guy
a witch, for God’s sake.
Calm down, she told herself. Don’t worry, be happy. You’re alone at last.
But for some reason she couldn’t relax. She stood and picked up her towel. Then, wrapping it around her, she started down the beach the way the guy had gone.
 

W
hen Cassie got to the place where the boy had turned, she walked up the dunes between the pitiful little clumps of scraggly beach grass. At the top she looked around, but there was nothing to be seen but pitch pines and scrub oak trees. No boy. No dog. Silence.

She was hot.
All right; fine. She turned back toward the sea, ignoring the twinge of disappointment, the strange emptiness she felt suddenly. She’d go get wet and cool off. Portia’s problem was Portia’s business. As for the red-haired guy—well, she’d probably never see him again, and he wasn’t her business either.
A little inside shiver went through her; not the kind that shows, but the kind that makes you wonder if you’re sick. I must be
too
hot, she decided; hot enough that it starts to feel cold. I need a dip in the water.
The water was cool, because this was the open Atlantic side of the Cape. She waded in up to her knees and then continued walking down the beach.
When she reached a dock, she splashed out of the water and climbed up onto it. Only three boats were tied there: two rowboats and a powerboat. It was deserted.
It was just what Cassie needed.
She unhooked the thick, frayed rope meant to keep people like her off the dock and walked onto it. She walked far out, the weather-beaten wood creaking beneath her feet, the water stretching out on either side of her. When she looked back at the beach, she saw she’d left the other sunbathers far behind. A little breeze blew in her face, stirring her hair and making her wet legs tingle. Suddenly she felt—she couldn’t explain it. Like a balloon being caught by the wind and lifted. She felt light, she felt expanded. She felt free.
She wanted to hold her arms out to the breeze and the ocean, but she didn’t quite dare. She wasn’t as free as all
that
. But she smiled as she got to the end of the dock.
The sky and the ocean were exactly the same deep jewel-blue, except that the sky lightened down at the horizon where they met. Cassie thought that she could see the curve of the earth, but it might have been her imagination. Terns and herring gulls wheeled above.
I should write a poem, she thought. She had a notebook full of scribbled poems at home under her bed. She hardly ever showed them to anyone, but she looked at them at night. Right now, though, she couldn’t think of any words.
Still, it was lovely just to be here, smelling the salt sea-smell and feeling the warm planks beneath her and hearing the soft plashing of the water against the wooden piers.
It was a hypnotic sound, rhythmic as a giant heartbeat or the breathing of the planet, and strangely familiar. She sat and gazed and listened, and as she did she felt her own breathing slow. For the first time since she’d come to New England, she felt she belonged. She was a part of the vastness of sky and earth and sea; a tiny part in all the immensity, but a part just the same.
And slowly it came to her that her part might not be so small. She had been immersed in the rhythm of the earth, but now it seemed to her almost as if she controlled that rhythm. As if the elements were one with her, and under her command. She could feel the pulse of life in the planet, in herself, strong and deep and vibrant. The beat slowly rising in tension and expectancy, as if waiting for . . . something.
For what?
Staring out to sea, she felt words come to her. Just a little jingle, like something you’d teach a child, but a poem nonetheless.
Sky and sea, keep harm from me
.
The strange thing was that it didn’t feel like something she’d made up. It felt more like something she’d read—or heard—a long time ago. She had a brief flash of an image: being held in someone’s arms, and looking at the ocean. Being held up high and hearing words.
Sky and sea, keep harm from me. Earth and fire, bring
. . .
No
.
Cassie’s entire skin was tingling. She could sense, in a way she never had before, the arch of the sky and the granite solidity of the earth and the immeasurable span of the ocean, wave after wave after wave, to the horizon and beyond. And it was as if they were all waiting, watching, listening to her.
Don’t finish it, she thought. Don’t say any more. A sudden irrational conviction had taken hold of her. As long as she didn’t find the last words of the poem, she was safe. Everything would be as it always had been; she would go home and live out her quiet, ordinary life in peace. As long as she could keep from saying the words, she’d be all right.
But the poem was running through her mind, like the tinkling of icy music far away, and the last words fell into place. She couldn’t stop them.
Sky and sea, keep harm from me. Earth and fire, bring . . . my desire
.
Yes
.
Oh, what have I
done
?
It was like a string snapping. Cassie found herself on her feet, staring wildly out at the ocean. Something had happened; she had felt it, and now she could feel the elements receding from her, their connection broken.
She no longer felt light and free, but jangled and out of tune and full of static electricity. Suddenly the ocean looked more vast than ever and not necessarily friendly. Turning sharply, she headed back toward the shore.
Idiot, she thought as she neared the white sand of the beach again and the frightened feeling slipped away. What were you afraid of? That the sky and the sea were really listening to you? That those words were actually going to
do
something?
She could almost laugh at it now, and she was embarrassed and annoyed with herself. Talk about an overactive imagination. She was still safe, and the world was still ordinary. Words were only words.
But when a movement caught her eye then, she would always remember that deep down she had not been surprised.
Something
was
happening. There was motion on the shore.
It was the red-haired guy. He’d burst out between the pitch pines and was running down the slope of a dune. Suddenly inexplicably calm, Cassie hurried the rest of the way down the dock, to meet him as he reached the sand.
The dog beside him was loping easily, looking up at the guy’s face as if to say this was a great game, and what next? But from the boy’s expression and the way he was running, Cassie could tell it wasn’t a game.
He looked up and down the deserted beach. A hundred yards to the left a headland jutted out, so you couldn’t see what was beyond. He glanced at Cassie and their eyes met. Then, turning abruptly, he started toward the headland.
Cassie’s heart was beating hard.
“Wait!” she called urgently.
He turned back, scanning her quickly with his blue-gray eyes.
“Who’s after you?” she said, though she thought she knew.
His voice was crisp, his words concise. “Two guys who look like linebackers for the New York Giants.”
Cassie nodded, feeling the thump of her heart accelerate. But her voice was still calm. “Their names are Jordan and Logan Bainbridge.”
“It figures.”
“You’ve heard of them?”
“No. But it figures they’d be named something like that.”
Cassie almost laughed. She liked the way he looked, so windblown and alert, scarcely out of breath even though he’d been running hard. And she liked the daredevil sparkle in his eyes and the way he joked even though he was in trouble.
“Raj and I could take them, but they’ve got a couple of friends with them,” he said, turning again. Walking backward, he added, “You’d better go the other way—you don’t want to run into them. And it would be nice if you could pretend you hadn’t seen me.”
“Wait!” cried Cassie.
Whatever was going on wasn’t her business . . . but she found herself speaking without hesitation. There was something about this guy; something that made her want to help him.
“That way’s a dead end—around the headland you’ll run into rocks. You’ll be trapped.”
“But the other way’s too straight. I’d still be in sight when they got here. They weren’t far behind me.”
Cassie’s thoughts were flying, and then suddenly she knew. “Hide in the boat.”
“What?”
“In the
boat
. In the powerboat. On the dock.” She gestured at it. “You can get in the cabin and they won’t see you.”
His eyes followed hers, but he shook his head. “I’d really be trapped if they found me there. And Raj doesn’t like to swim.”
“They won’t find you,” Cassie said. “They won’t go near it. I’ll tell them you went down the beach that way.”
He stared at her, the smile dying out of his eyes. “You don’t understand,” he said quietly. “Those guys are trouble.”
BOOK: The Secret Circle: The Complete Collection
2.35Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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