I dragged myself through the rest of the afternoon, paying scant attention to anything or anyone. I brooded about Ms. Lacusta and her insane certainty that I was her chosen one. I worried about what she planned to do with that conviction. And I wondered uneasily what I could do between now and next Monday to put an end to our so-called independent study.
The threatened storm had arrived in full force, and I struggled to keep my locker open while I put away and pulled out books. I scowled as a blast of rain hit me on the back. These outside hallways really had some drawbacks.
“Tas!” Still gripping the locker door, I peered around it as Cara skittered to a stop. “Hey! I’m glad you didn’t leave yet.”
I tried to plaster a friendly smile on my face, but it was hard to pretend. The relationship between Cara and me had been shaky at best for the last few weeks, and given the day I’d had, I wasn’t really inclined to make nice. But at the same time, I felt only sincerity and earnest need coming from her. Unexpectedly I heard what she wanted to ask me before she voiced it.
“Hi, Cara,” I answered her. “What’s up?”
She winced slightly, and with a twinge of guilt, I knew she’d picked up my guarded tone.
“I was wondering if I could get a ride home. It’s so nasty out, and I can’t get my mom or dad. Amber’s gone already, and... ” Her voice trailed off, and I tactfully avoided asking her where Rafe was. I wished I could find a good excuse to say no—I only wanted to get to work and hide in the storeroom—but I couldn’t think of anything.
“Sure.” I slammed my locker shut. “Let’s make a run for it. I’m parked pretty far out.”
We were soaked by the time we made it to the Mustang. Cara tossed her books in the backseat and closed the car door as I did the same thing on my side. We both shook water from our hair as I turned the key in the ignition.
I had been to Cara’s house a few times over the past year. She and her parents lived in a small rancher adjacent to the large and modern-looking church Reverend Pryce had built; it was only a few miles from Sawood, and I followed the familiar roads out of town and into the country.
Cara was quiet, almost apologetically so, until we were out of King. I studiously avoided hearing her, concentrating on the wet road through the rapid thwack of the wipers.
“I really appreciate this, Tasmyn,” Cara said softly. Her eyes too were focused on the road before us. “I told my mom not to worry about getting me today, but I guess my plans for a ride kind of fell through.”
“It’s no problem,” I assured her. “I’m heading out to Sawood anyway.”
“But still... ” she persisted. “I hope it doesn’t make you late.”
I laughed. “My bosses are pretty understanding.”
“It must be so cool to work for the Sawyers. Marly was one of the first people I met here, and I’ve always liked her. You’re really lucky to have her as. . well, you know, Michael’s mom.”
“Luke and Marly are both incredible people,” I agreed. I sensed that Cara was getting at something else, that she was making small talk to stall what she was trying to say. And I was right.
“Tas, I’m really sorry about my dad,” she blurted. “I know he hasn’t been very nice to you. I wish—he’s gotten so different. He didn’t used to be like this.”
“It’s okay.” Awkwardly I tried to reassure her. “There’s nothing you could do about it—like I told you before, your dad’s just trying to protect you.” I paused, carefully choosing my next words. “But I wish he’d get to know me and see that I’m not like Nell. I didn’t have anything to do with what happened that day in the woods.”
“But maybe if you’d just explain it all better--” Cara began, and then abruptly shut her mouth. “No, you’re right. It wouldn’t matter. He wouldn’t listen. He thinks he knows what’s right and who’s trouble. If you knew him before—when we lived in Pennsylvania—well, he wasn’t like this at all.”
I didn’t answer, and Cara plunged ahead into explanation. I could feel that it was taking all her nerve to talk to me about this.
“It was after Jonas. I know I’ve never mentioned him, but I had a little brother. His name was Jonas, and he died six years ago.”
Her pain was so raw and near that I flinched. “Cara, I’m so sorry,” I murmured.
She went on as though she hadn’t heard me. “He had a condition—it’s very rare, and they told us when he was born that he wouldn’t live long. But he was so sweet and so full of love. He was four years old when he. . when we lost him.”
An image of an adorable dark haired boy with full cheeks and a cherubic smile flashed through Cara’s mind so vividly that I couldn’t miss it. Tears filled my eyes, but Cara didn’t seem to notice.
“After that, my dad changed. He wasn’t a pastor back then. He worked for the state. But after Jonas, he told us God had called him to be a minister. He went to school for a while, and then a church near us had a vacant pulpit, and they asked him to fill it.”
“How did you end up down here?” I asked curiously. King hardly seemed like the place for an evangelizing preacher.
“Someone from our church in Pennsylvania was down here visiting and happened to stop in King. He came back and told my dad about it, and then my dad told us—my mom and me, and the church—that God was calling him to plant a church down here. The congregation in Pennsylvania agreed to help, and the next thing I knew, here we were.”
I felt sympathy for a fellow newcomer and remembered how kind Cara had been to me last year. “That must have been really hard, moving right after your freshman year.”
She laughed without much humor. “No one asked me what I thought about it. It was just expected that I’d fall in line and go with the flow. That was what my mom kept saying—just go with the flow.”
“You seemed to adjust pretty well,” I ventured.
“What was my choice?” she shot back. “My parents were still shattered from losing Jonas. My dad was so preoccupied with building the new church. I had to be upbeat and together. There wasn’t another option.” Cara crossed her arms over her chest and pressed her lips together. Seething hurt, long contained, bubbled just beneath the surface of her mind.
She sighed heavily and then added, “And my dad changed so much. He used to be fun, and we used to laugh all the time. I could tell him anything. Now he sees evil and temptation in everything. I have to be careful what I say to him. And he thinks you—he just won’t change his mind about what he thinks he knows about you.”
By this time we had pulled into the large parking lot of the church, and I had slipped into a spot to let Cara finish what she was saying. Now I slowly drove around the building and down the short drive that led to the Pryces’ home.
As I came to a stop, I saw a tall figure emerge from the house, wrapped in some sort of green rain slicker. Even from this distance, I could feel the worried anger, which shifted to rage alone when he saw the car.
Cara’s own feelings surged immediately to panic. “Oh, no, that’s my dad,” she gasped. “He’s going to freak.” She glanced wildly around, as though looking for an escape hatch from the car.
Reverend Pryce strode toward the passenger side of the Mustang and yanked Cara’s door open. Immediately we were both hit with the persistent rain.
“Cara, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” he roared above the noise of the wind and the rain hitting the car. “Get out of there!”
“Daddy, Tasmyn just drove me home! I tried to call home, and no one answered. It’s fine, let’s just go--”
“It’s not fine. Didn’t I tell you to stay away from her? Didn’t I warn you that she’s dangerous?” He reached into the car and grabbed Cara’s arm. “I said, get out of there. I was just about to leave. I heard your message, and I called the school. No one could find you. I didn’t know where you were or what you had done—and then you come here with her. Haven’t I told you what she is?”
Cara stumbled out. I could see tears of mortification mixing with the rain on her face. She stifled a sob as she righted herself and looked at her father defiantly. “I need my books.” She leaned into the backseat and gathered her things. As soon as she straightened, he steered her away from the car.
“Inside!” he hissed, and with just one tremendously worried look thrown my way, Cara ran to the front door and disappeared through it.
Reverend Pryce leaned down into the car through the empty front seat. “You.” He shot a finger into my face. “Stay away from my daughter. I know what you are. I know what you do. We don’t want your kind near our family.”
“I just—Cara asked for a ride, and I gave her one. Would you have preferred that she walk home in this storm?” I had been raised to be respectful to all adults, and I had never spoken so forcefully to anyone outside my own family. But despite my best efforts, I could hear what was going on in his head, and it both frightened and angered me. How dare he continue to judge me?
“A little rain would be much healthier than what she’s exposed to with you. I know what you are.” He ground out the words from between his teeth. “You are a witch.”
Coming as it did on the heels of the revelation from Ms. Lacusta, this was even more devastating. What if he was right? What if I really was what both of them insisted—evil, power hungry, manipulative? The derision shot out of Reverend Pryce’s mind like buckshot.
The dismay must have been clearly visible on my face, because Reverend Pryce seem taken aback. He moved away from the car, and I thought he was about to close the door. Then he leaned in once more. This time the fanatical glow I’d seen there before had replaced the rage.
“It’s not too late,” he said. “Redemption is still possible. See the evil of your ways, and repent--”
My own fury returned in a blast. “Reverend Pryce, you know nothing. I have no need to repent. Now get away from my car before I call the police.” I groped in my pocket for my cell phone to give weight to my threat. I wasn’t sure it would mean anything to him, but he did in fact move back and slam the door.
I didn’t waste any time in pulling out and speeding through the parking lot. Only once I was out on the road, heading toward the nursery, did I draw a steady breath.
The rain had slackened but not stopped. I could still hear the vague thunder in the distance. It seemed this storm wasn’t quite over yet.