How I Found You Page 7

  “Well?” Caicus pressed as we closed the door behind us.

  “I lay the snapdragons under her mattress,” I told him. “That should keep her inconspicuous for the time being.” Sure, the snapdragon trick was a myth, but we’d been brought up to believe in myths. Living the life we’d led, I believed just about everything. Oh, with the exception of Mary’s interior design taste. That was unbelievable.

  Caicus flopped back onto his bed while I got changed into clean clothes.

  I quickly threw on a black T-shirt and jeans and collapsed onto my own bed. Restless, I pulled the pillow from under my head and frowned at it.

  “Urgh.” I grimaced. “Was it really necessary to get the daisy pillowcases too? That woman is seriously unhinged.”

  Caicus ignored me.

  “Cai, Look at this,” I grumbled. “Doesn’t it make you want to revolt? I’m genuinely concerned. There are daisies everywhere.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Caicus,” I snapped. I hated it when he ignored me. “Caicus, listen to me.”

  “I heard you, Oscar,” he grunted. His eyes were closed.

  “It’s degrading. I feel… dirty.” I lobbed my pillow at Caicus, who caught it and tossed it to the side.

  “Forget the daisies,” he griped, opening his eyes for the sole purpose of glaring at me. “Let me see the book, would you?” He stretched out his arm but made no attempt to prop himself upright.

  “No. Get it yourself.”

  Bickering was something we did a lot.

  “Come on, Oscar,” he whined. “Just get it for me. I’m really tired.”

  I closed my eyes. “So am I.”

  That was a lie. I wasn’t tired at all.

  Caicus laughed like a naughty child—which always made me laugh, too. Perhaps because it reminded me of when we actually were naughty children.

  “Please? Just do it!” he shouted, kicking his legs on the mattress.

  This was how we had our fun, by the way—winding each other up, usually until it came to blows. Oh, then we were sorry. Or, he was, anyhow. At least that’s the way I’d tell it.

  Anyway, I decided to let him win one, so, with a very deliberate sigh, I reached under my bed and heaved out a worn brown trunk. Hanging precariously over the edge of my mattress, I coded in the lock combination and opened the lid.

  It took a bit of rummaging, but buried beneath a mound of clothes was a heavy, leather-bound book. The antique cover was faded gold, and the yellowed pages were thicker and coarser than ordinary paper. Midway through, a page had been marked with a piece of string.

  I flipped the book open to the marked page and handed it to Caicus.

  For a moment he stared intently at the words imprinted on the aged paper. He didn’t need to read them out to me—I knew them off by heart. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he did, too.

  THE PROPHECY OF LATHIAUS

  It is foretold, on the day of his end,

  so doth life begin

  At the stroke of the eleventh hour,

  he shall awaken

  All will bow before him

  All will perish at his mercy

  Only one can end the blood spill

  She, the girl with the heart of a witch

  Before the hour turns to twelfth,

  she must grant him her death

  Two will take her to him, and all will be spared

  Two will turn away, and all will be slaughtered

  Our fate awaits.

  “Lathiaus,” Caicus spoke the name aloud.

  “Lathiaus,” I repeated. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I bow to him,” I scoffed.

  Yes, that was resentment in my voice. What could I say? I don’t bow.

  Caicus snorted. “I’m banking on it not coming to that.”

  I said nothing.

  He carried on, “Let’s just make sure this goes smoothly, okay? I have no intention of going head to head with Lathiaus. I don’t want to be turned into kibble and bits.”

  “‘Perish at his mercy’?” I jeered. “I bet he’s all talk.”

  Caicus guffawed. “Wanna bet your life on that? People have been talking about this prophecy for centuries. ‘Lathiaus’s resurrection from the dead’,” he mimicked our elders. “‘The end to all witches, blah blah blah’. I think they were taking it pretty seriously, Oscar.”

  “Yeah, well…”

  “And they’re counting on us to pull this off,” he added.

  Pull this off?

  He meant hand Rose over. She was the girl in the prophecy, after all. The girl with the heart of a witch. And when it was time for old Lathiaus’s big comeback, it was going to boil down to this: us or her. If we handed her over to Lathiaus, we’d spare the lives of an entire race of witches. If we let her go, it’d be nuclear bye-bye for our kind. That’s why everyone had been searching for the prophecy girl—she was our ticket out of extinction. And all Caicus and I had to do was take away her life force at exactly the right time.

  Yep, that was the plan. No doubts at all. None whatsoever.

  I rolled back onto my bed and gazed up at the white ceiling.

  “Caicus, what if we…” How shall I put it? “What if we, say, don’t do it?”

  “We will do it.”

  “But what if we don’t?”

  “Then Lathiaus will end the line of witches. Everybody goes kaput. You, me, everybody.”

  “Right.”

  “But you already knew that,” Caicus pointed out astutely. “You needed a bit of a reminder, eh?”

  He wasn’t stupid. He knew where my thoughts were heading.

  “Would you really sacrifice all of our lives for some girl?” he asked bluntly.

  I sighed. “No, of course not.”

  He was right. I shouldn’t even have entertained such ludicrous thoughts. Argh! She’s ruining everything. I need to focus. Focus, focus, focus.

  “Anyway, I wasn’t talking about her,” I backtracked. “I’m not some sort of renegade. I was merely expressing a momentary concern. What I meant was, what if something goes wrong?”

  Caicus clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. “It’s all doom and gloom with you sometimes. Look, we’ve found the girl. We’re guarding her until the day of reckoning. When it’s time for Lathiaus’s return, all we have to do is hand her over. Even a prize fool like you can’t mess this one up.”

  I fanned my arms out across the ugly bedspread. “All the same, I’d rather that it wasn’t our responsibility. It’s such a drag. And you know how I get under pressure.” I yawned apathetically.

  “It’s not all bad,” Caicus said as he stared beyond the window. “Just think of the aftermath… I don’t know about you, but I’m already choreographing the steps to my victory dance. We’ll be legends, Oscar!”

  He had a point.

  “I wouldn’t mind being a legend,” I muttered.

  “It makes the endurance of our overt manners that much more bearable.”

  “I suppose. But I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up for.”

  “Well, you’d better pace yourself, because it could be weeks to go yet.”

  The truth was, no one could be sure of exactly when Lathiaus would return. We knew it would be on the anniversary of his death. But that wasn’t much help, because he’d been vanquished hundreds of years ago, and the precise calendar date remained unclear. We’d taken a vague stab at guessing and decided that it would be some time in August.

  All we could do was wait and hope that Lathiaus didn’t somehow get to her first. Or, in my case, hope that I didn’t have too much time to talk myself out of it.

  Oh hell, I was the wrong person for this job.

  I punched my fist into the mattress. “Curse my dreams!” After all, my dreams were what had landed us there in the first place. More specifically, I’d been having visions. Visions of Rose.

  “No. The dreams were fine,” Caicus piped up. “The dreams were the key to unveiling the prophecy girl. What I curs
e is our friendship. And the damn fact that you requested me as your companion. Swine!”

  I sat upright and grinned broadly. “Who else would I choose? You’re my best friend, not to mention the only Valero witch that I can tolerate being in the company of for more than five minutes.”

  “True. Although, don’t forget, that’s our family you’re slandering, Oscar.”

  “Not by blood,” I contradicted him. “We’re just a coven of witches with only our powers in common. That does not a family make.”

  “They’re the closest thing we’ve got to family,” Caicus pointed out. “Besides, I’m not bound to you by blood, but am I not your brother?”

  He had me there.

  “Yes,” I relented, grudgingly. “You’re my brother. But I actually like you—that’s the difference.”

  I smiled like butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth. I could hold my hands up to the fact that I wasn’t the easiest person in the world to live with, but Valero witches—excluding myself and Caicus, that is—were, without a doubt, the most insufferable people who ever existed. And I lived with all of them.

  “Believe me, I’m not keen on them either,” Caicus drawled. “They’re a bunch of pompous, conceited know-it-alls, but they are our family. And you can’t choose your family.”

  “If I could, I’d choose this one.” I glanced around the room, my eyes landing on a framed photograph of Roger and Mary on their wedding day.

  “Liar!” Caicus accused. “The woman aggravates you, I can tell.”

  “Well, obviously.” I looked at him as though he were a complete imbecile. “But at least she’s not a know-it-all. In fact, she’s a know-nothing. I like the simplicity of her inane brain.”

  Caicus smirked.

  “And as for the man,” I went on, “he’s rarely here. And when he is here, he doesn’t speak all that much. I like that in a person. The less you hear their voice, the easier it is to forget the sound of it.”

  Caicus was markedly entertained by my analysis. “What about the kid?” he pushed.

  “The baby? He’s no trouble. He can’t speak. That’s even better.”

  “And the girl?” Caicus goaded.

  I hoped he didn’t notice the sudden tenderness in my expression. “Rose? She is… tolerable.”

  “Rose,” Caicus mocked me. “I’m sorry, Oscar, I didn’t realise we were calling her by her name now.”

  “Shut up, Caicus.”

  I made a mental note to work on better comebacks.

  “You shut up, Oscar,” Caicus retaliated.

  Now we were just getting lazy.

  “Personally,” he added, “I can’t be bothered to learn her name.” He yawned like a lion, his golden blonde waves curling around his brow. “What’s the point? She’ll be dead soon, anyway.”

  As if it had been timed to fit Caicus’s chilling words, we heard the sound of a piercing scream.

  Rose’s scream.

  Pocket Full of Tricks

  THE SOUND OF ROSE’S SCREAM made my stomach knot. I sat bolt upright.

  It had come from the bathroom.

  I stared wide eyed at Caicus. Words seemed unnecessary, because there was no doubt that we were thinking the same thing. We sprung from our beds and pelted to the bathroom.

  The door was closed and the bolt had been pulled across. But Rose was definitely in there. I could sense her.

  I clasped the handle and rattled the locked door.

  Damn.

  My head spun. I had to get to her.

  With a quick glance, I double checked that Caicus and I were alone, and then, with impeccable accuracy, I ploughed my fist through the solid door and my hand burst through the metal bolt, sending it clattering onto the bathroom floor tiles.

  “Oh, good one, Oscar,” Caicus grumbled, giving me a hefty clip around the ear. “Like they’re not going to notice a hole in the door. Oaf.”

  I didn’t care. I shoved Caicus aside and raced to Rose, who lay unmoving beneath the sink. A trickle of ruby red blood dripped from her temple, blemishing the pristine, ivory tiles.

  My mouth went dry. She looked so serene. Too serene.

  I pushed back her golden brown hair and checked her pulse, pressing my fingers to her throat. Okay. There it was, the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat.

  She was alive. I could breathe again.

  I knelt beside her and lightly tapped her face. “Rose.”

  Caicus stood over us, peering down hesitantly.

  “Do you think it was…him?” he asked in a hushed voice.

  I examined the wound on Rose’s head. It looked as though it might have been caused by a fall. “It doesn’t seem like an attack…” I glanced to the bathroom window, which was latched shut. “No sign of an intruder.”

  Caicus crouched down and prodded Rose as though she were toxic. “So, what happened? Just an accident?”

  “Looks that way. Maybe she slipped or something.”

  “Well, then, that’s not our domain,” Caicus stated frankly. “Let’s get out of here before we’re placed at the scene of the crime.”

  “Hand me that towel.” I nodded towards the heated towel rack.

  With a huff, Caicus snatched a white hand towel and tossed it over to me.

  “This is a waste of time,” he griped. “She just slipped. Why are we still hanging around?”

  I nursed Rose’s head in my lap, dabbing at the broken skin with the towel. I didn’t mind doing it, either.

  “She’s bleeding,” I told Caicus—as if he couldn’t see that for himself. “She’ll probably have concussion.”

  Caicus threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “So?” he demanded. “That’s not our problem.”

  “We can’t leave her if she has concussion.”

  “Oh jeeze, Oscar,” Caicus muttered under his breath. He pressed his knuckle to his mouth and waited until he was calmer before he spoke again. “Come on now, bro. Remember what I said, eh? Don’t get too attached. Keep your eyes on the prize. Remember?”

  I glowered at him. “Of course I remember,” I snapped. “I know what I’m doing.” I slid my arms under Rose’s body and lifted her, cradling her close to my chest. She felt weightless. Perhaps because I was used to carrying heavier things. Or perhaps because my strength was, let’s just say, above average. But not just that, it felt as though she belonged in my arms.

  “Oscar,” Caicus pleaded with me.

  “I need to take her to her bed.”

  “Put her back!” Caicus hissed. “Put her back on the floor where you found her. She’s fine.”

  “No.” I waltzed out of the bathroom, carrying Rose in my arms. Her face was nuzzled into my shoulder. That was another thing that I didn’t mind. Definitely didn’t mind.

  Caicus, however, shook his head with unmasked disapproval.

  “Anyway,” I added, glancing over my shoulder at him. “If I lay her in bed, the snapdragons will conceal her from Lathiaus. That’s forward thinking.” I didn’t wait for Caicus’s response–mostly because I didn’t care. Instead, I cheerfully ascended the attic staircase and let myself into Rose’s room.

  I was starting to like it in there.

  Very carefully, I placed Rose onto her bed, fluffing the pillows for her. Once she was settled, I took a tissue from the box on her nightstand and began swabbing at the wound on her temple. It had more or less stopped bleeding, but I kept at it for a little while longer. I realised that I was looking at her with absolute, out-and-out devotion.

  “I’ll take care of you,” I told her.

  A combination of the disturbance from my action and the sound of my voice gradually stirred Rose from her slumbering state. Her eyes opened hazily.

  I perched at her bedside. “Hello.”

  She blinked up at me. “Hi,” she mumbled, disorientated.

  I reached out for one last tissue dab.

  “What are you doing?” Rose mumbled blearily. She tried to sit upright.

  “Bad idea,” I said, easing her back down onto the
bed. “You shouldn’t move too quickly. You might have concussion.”

  Her eyes searched mine as she began to blearily piece the events together. “The bathroom…” she murmured. “I slipped…”

  She sat up now.

  “You,” she hissed. “Get away from me!”

  “Me?” My eyes widened. “What did I do?”

  “You know what you did!”

  “Clearly I do not,” I answered thinly. “You’re delirious.” I began overly enunciating my words, as though she may have been hard of hearing. “You hit your head.” I was aware that my comment was extremely patronising. I couldn’t help myself. It was just my way.

  “I know I hit my head,” she shouted. “Get away from me!”

  I folded my arms. “Talk about ungrateful. I just saved your life, Rose. Your life. You could have bled to death on the bathroom floor.” Yes, it was a slight exaggeration, but it illustrated my point nicely. “Is that what you wanted? Such an unseemly demise? To die beside a toilet?”

  Rose tentatively touched the scrape on her head. She winced.

  I winced for her.

  “You didn’t save me! You’re up to something…”

  Here she goes, I thought fondly, throwing accusations around again. She’s so cute when she does that.

  “Voodoo or something!” she finished.

  I laughed loudly. “Oh really? Voodoo?”

  “Or something!”

  “Yes, if that something is saving you.” I was still waiting for my hero’s welcome, by the way.

  “You’re always around,” Rose rambled on. “And I know I’ve met you before…”

  A surge of excitement rushed through my veins.

  Go on, I willed.

  “The eyes…” she said.

  Yes, I urged silently. You recognise my eyes. You know me.

  But the conversation didn’t progress in the way that I’d hoped it would. They weren’t my eyes that Rose was referring to after all.

  “Those crow eyes,” she went on, “and all of the weird stuff that happens when you’re around…”

  She doesn’t remember me.

  “Coincidence,” I replied, with about as much lustre as an old boot.

  “And the bizarre things in your pockets.”