I whirl around, gripping the towel tight over my chest. “Who are you?”
The man smiles, but with his row of crooked teeth, it looks anything but friendly. “I’ve been called Mr. Wolf.” He takes three big steps forward, so that I’m backed against the window, and extends a hand. “But I also go by the name of Frederick.”
“Stop right there or I’ll scream!”
He laughs. “Relax, Indigo.”
I could stand naked in the middle of Melrose Avenue on a Saturday afternoon and not feel more exposed than I do right now in this thin towel. “Wh-who are you and how do you know my name?”
“And why am I in your room?” His eyebrow arches.
I brace my arms tighter over my chest to secure the towel.
Frederick grins. “Don’t worry, you’re not my type.”
He strides in the other direction, so I see the gray ponytail that falls down the back of his black suit jacket. My mouth has gone dry, and I can hardly think past the sound of my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
“Now, let’s talk about what you’ve done.” Frederick turns, regarding me with slanted blue eyes.
I wet my papery lips. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” He stops in front of a corkboard covered with photos, cards, and every other item of junk I can never think of where to put, and leans in to inspect something. “Twilight?” he asks, full of disgust as he fingers old theater stubs.
I look at my open bedroom door. If I make a run for it, I can probably get out before he’s even—the door slams shut, and I gasp. He hasn’t moved an inch, and the door closed. The door closed on its own.
“You—you’re Frederick, from the Priory,” I stammer.
“And now that we’ve established the basics,” Frederick says without turning, “why don’t you tell me what you know. This can very simple, Indigo. You’ve put a spell on the Bible”—he runs his finger over a photo of Mom and me from the year I had my birthday at American Girl, before violently ripping it out from under the tack that holds it in place—“that prevents it from being opened.”
I swallow what feels like a whole fist in my throat. “You obviously don’t know what you’re talking about, because I’m not a witch, and I don’t know any spells.”
“Really?” Frederick says. “Then tell me how a spell came to protect the Bible that is in your possession? It wasn’t your mother. It wasn’t your aunt. So who was it, then? The family cat?”
I race through my brain for an answer to his question. “My grandma! It must have been my grandma. She was a witch.”
He shakes his head. “This spell is new, Indigo, within the last few years. Strong and unbreakable. You know, this was so much easier when I could just pluck what I needed right out of your head.”
I swallow my rising panic at his nonsensical words. “But even if I was a witch, it’s only my two hundredth moon tonight. I couldn’t have possibly put a spell on the Bible before it went missing. Think about it! It makes sense!”
His jaw hardens, and I can see why he said he’s called Mr. Wolf. He looks at me like he’s considering ripping me to shreds with his bare teeth.
He takes slow steps toward me, fanning the picture in front of his face. “You know what? I think you’re lying. I think you know a lot more than you’re admitting.”
I back up, but my heels run into the baseboards and I can’t go any farther. The window—I could go out the window. And what? Fall two stories and break a few bones?
He leans in so close I can see every little hair he missed shaving, the plaque etched over his gumline, the cracks around his mouth. I push farther back and touch the window.
He cocks his head.
“I’m not a witch.” Tears well in my eyes. “I don’t know how to help you.”
Frederick takes a deep breath through his nose, his jaw tense as granite, and straightens to his full height. And then he rips the photo of Mom and me in half, letting the pieces flutter to the floor. “I thought you might behave this way. Good thing I’ve come prepared. Leo?”
The bedroom door bursts open. Mom stumbles in, a scarred man with a shaved head and dangerous black eyes behind her, pushing her forward with a knife held to her throat.
“Mom!” I try to skirt around Frederick, but he holds a hand up, and I smack into an invisible wall. “Let me out!” I slam my palms against the barrier, but all it does is ripple the air in front of me. Mom’s round eyes flit around the room, mascara running down her cheeks. And there’s nothing I can do. A terrified cry escapes me.
“I tried to warn you,” Frederick says. “Perhaps you’d like to be a little more forthcoming now?” He takes measured steps around the force field to where Mom stands, each step making my heart race faster.
“Stay away from her!” I scream.
Frederick grins and reaches up to tuck flyaway hairs behind Mom’s ears. She flinches, and I renew my efforts trying to knock away the invisible wall.
“This can all stop, Indigo.” Frederick locks eyes with me. “Just break the spell on the Bible, and we’ll let your mom go.”
“I told you, I don’t know how to break any spells.”
Frederick tuts under his breath and, without breaking eye contact with me, waves a hand. Leo pushes Mom forward, a grin pulling up just the left side of his face, the other made immovable by scars. His left eye blinks unnaturally, the effect grating on the nerves in my stomach.
“No, no, no! Please, I’ll do anything, just leave her alone.” Tears spill down my cheeks.
Mom reaches out a hand to me. “It’s okay, Ind—” But her words are garbled when Leo presses the knife harder against her throat.
“I’m afraid you leave me no choice.” Frederick walks to the window and pulls it wide open. Cool air pours inside.
“What are you doing? Come back. Take me instead! Leave my mom alone.” My breaths come in hiccupping gulps.
Leo pushes Mom forward, and she stumbles into Frederick. Mom tries to run, but he snags her by the collar of her shirt and yanks her backward. She yelps, clawing helplessly at the air. No magic involved, just brutal violence.
“Well, what will it be, Indigo?” Frederick has one boot-clad foot up on the window ledge, a long arm snaked around Mom’s middle.
“I can learn the spell. Just give me some time, please. As soon as I figure it out I’ll break it. I just need a little time.”
Frederick nods, and I think I’ve finally said the right thing.
“And you’ll get your mother back just as soon as you do.” He climbs onto the ledge. I don’t even have time to say goodbye before he hops out the window, Mom flapping like a rag doll in his grip. Leo climbs up next and, with a final wave to me, jumps out after them.