Page 70 of Of Poison & Pumpkins
A loud bang and screech rumbles down the hallway. I pace. Why isn’t the medicine healing him? By my side, I crack my knuckles compulsively, the sole thing I have control over. I’d be willing to do anything to break free.
Maybe I made a mistake with the ingredients. Had I mixed only nine berries instead of ten? I drag my nails down my cheeks, leaving marks, but who the fuck cares at this point. Hudson stands unaffected. There’s no more time to recreate the potion. Maybe it takes longer to activate.
Elias’s voice shouts in pain somewhere on the other side of the door; his voice distant but clear.
“ELIAS!” I pound on the door until my hands burn, clinging to the hope that he can hear me.
I grasp for any chance that he’s okay. “Please,” I pray to Luna, the strongest goddess, “put me in his place instead. My sister hates me, not him. Please.”
Alone. There’s no point in fighting for the impossible. I cry out in anguish and sink to the floor again. My head rests against the door, racing heartbeat, dry mouth, throat sore from pleading. I never had the chance to tell him I love him, too.
I love him. His heart-stopping, golden smile. His witty banter and silly nature. I love Elias and maybe always have.
“Rynnlee!” Elias sounds closer, louder; enraged and determined. “Stand back!”
On hands and knees, I scramble away, then pull Hudson down with me. He follows without resistance. The door explodes as Elias bursts through, sweaty, on a rampage.
I gasp, pulse in overdrive.
Elias’s entire body glows a bright purple. His eyes are alert, wide with terror. The rest of his body is stiff, unnatural, like a soldier.
“Thank Luna!” I move a piece of wood off my lap and rush to him, but stop halfway.
The fear in his eyes gives me pause. I glance behind him, where a shadow lurks in the hallway.
“Brooke, stop all this. Now!”
“No, Sissy. I’m finally at the good part,” she says, stepping around the corner.
The rage in her expression snatches my breath away. She gave me hell when we were teens, but this is another level.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Your magic.”
“What? Even if I agreed, I can’t give you my magic. It’s genetic. In my DNA. You know that.”
“It took me a few years of planning, but it finally all came together. I heard the rumors all the way in Indiana of a Fuzer handing out poisoned revenge curses,” Brooke says as she licks her ruby lipstick. “ All I had to do was find a naïve Fuzer pawn, poor Noah, and use his power.
“Well, imagine my delight when I figured out it was my sister after breaking into your apartment. I mean chef’s kiss, am I right?” Her laugh is deranged, almost possessed. “Plus, I had no idea everything would come full circle and Noah would be the father of your boyfriend. Small world.”
“I can’t give you my magic.”
She leans forward and taps my chin. “But I can take it.” Brooke points to Elias, who is huffing and puffing by the door, eyes wide.
He glances back and forth at Brooke, then down to his body, Brooke, then down to his body. What is he trying to communicate? I don’t understand. His muscles bulge and are tense, with veins sticking out like he’s battling some force. Why hasn’t he joined me? The Elias I know would already be by my side or standing between us as a shield. Then it hits me.
“How are you controlling him?” I lunge forward to grab Brooke’s hair.
But Elias jumps in front of Brooke, in protection. His eyes plead for forgiveness, which means he’s aware of what his body is doing but has no choice in the matter.
“I fed all the passion of this town into one soul. My purple monster.” She pauses to laugh. “Oh, that’s a great name. After finally finding a strong enough spell, this purple monster has the strength to suck out your essence, too.”
“No. He’ll never hurt me,” I say, stuck in place, unsure if I should attack or flee.
“He will if I tell him to.” Brooke’s smirk is distorted, twisted like something has corrupted her. “You were always put on a pedestal, cherished, treated like a saint, given the bigger bedroom and extra privileges. I’m done waiting. It’s my turn!”
Either she or I have a warped sense of reality. I swallow, preparing to calm her down by mentioning good memories, the ones before she despised me, when we were only young kids playing in the backyard. There’s no chance before Noah steps around the corner into the office and snaps his fingers. Out of my control, I’m flung off my feet and float in the air flat, eyes to the ceiling. I writhe against the hold, but it’s useless. He has me trapped. Caged. I’m at my sister’s mercy and nothing can get worse.
