to him. Henry was flushed and needed a fix.
“Adrian is going onstage,” Henry said, holding his hand out, making a give me motion. James placed a few brand-new bills into his palm. Henry didn’t even stick around long enough to say thanks; he had an urgent date with his dealer.
James looked over and saw Adrian as he stepped casually out onto the stage. James knew right away that Adrian was using his charisma—his magical, magnetic appeal—to arouse bewitched admiration in others. It was similar to what mortals call je ne sais quoi .
Adrian was clad in plain, black leather pants with a marquisette shirt. He wore no shoes to showcase his unusually attractive feet. He fingered his longish, wavy, brown hair, playing coy as he took the microphone.
James, unimpressed by Adrian’s spellbinding hypnosis, watched the crowd. These people could hardly contain their worship of this false idol and, at any moment, could have turned from an energized throng into a full-on riot mob. James decided he’d had enough of the farce and headed toward the stage just as Adrian started to drone a hauntingly poetic song. But a discarnate voice yelled inside James’s head, dropping him to the sticky floor.
“James!” shouted the voice again, getting louder and louder, like it was drilling itself out of his skull. He finally recognized who it was: Evelyn. He hadn’t heard that voice in more than twenty years. Her summoning spell was working.
Adrian saw James when he fell to the floor, and didn’t appreciate how some of the crowd had gathered around him. Adrian believed James was muscling in on his charisma spell, and it would be a couple of days before he would have the energy to conjure it up again. So, as he went on with his song, he channeled the force of James’s pain to fuel his spell. Adrian knelt down on one knee with the microphone stand between his legs. He stroked the stand in a masturbatory manner, sending the audience into a frenzy. James could feel Adrian draining his energy. At the same time, fleeting images of Evelyn and Massapequa crashed through his mind.
Addison scrambled over to him. As soon as she touched him, a spike of pain pounded her head.
“I saw her too,” she said as she placed James on a chair.
“We’ve been summoned. We’ve got to go immediately.” He could see the disappointment in Addison’s eyes.
“I know,” she said in a low voice. She hesitated a bit. “We don’t have to do this, you know. This is our last chance to turn back.”
James did not answer her. He was tired of this same old conversation, and his mind was made up. Right then Addison gave up fighting against his plan.
“So we’re leaving right this minute, huh? Guess that means I can’t even go back to the house and get any clothes. Alright, I’ll get Adrian,” she said.
Addison rushed the stage and yanked the microphone away from him. “Show’s over,” she said to the crowd over the mic’s screeching feedback. She dragged Adrian off the stage. “Come on, lover boy.”
“I swear! Don’t you have anything better to do than to chase me around, Grandma?” he yelled, standing his ground.
“First off, you aren’t even supposed to be here. We’ve all agreed on that point a million times before. Second, Grace’s Awakening is happening. We’ve got to go. We’ll pick up the other one along the way.”
“Bummer,” he said, following Addison over to James, and waving a final goodbye to his enamored groupies.
Chapter Twelve
I think somehow we learn who we really are and then we live with that decision.
—Eleanor Roosevelt
A unt Evelyn led me to the back of the house, where we ended up standing next to a door that had always been locked as far back as I could remember.
“So I get to see what’s behind the magic curtain,” I said, pointing to the door.
“Not yet, Grace.” Aunt Evelyn pushed a wide wall panel. It popped open, revealing a hidden, narrow staircase. She put her hand on my shoulder like she
Rebecca Hamilton, Conner Kressley