Free Struck by Jennifer Bosworth

Price?”
    “I guess so.” I couldn’t believe I’d passed out. I couldn’t believe I’d passed out and then Jeremy had ditched me. Jerk. Beautiful, beautiful jerk.
    Mr. Kale offered me his hand to help me up. I caught sight of the ring of red scar tissue on his palm. His hand gripped mine and electricity jolted through me, like I’d grabbed hold of a live wire.
    I gasped, tried to take my hand back, but Mr. Kale didn’t let go until he’d hauled me to my feet. Then I was stumbling away from him. From all of them. Back toward the bank of windows and the ocean breeze that carried its storm warning.
    “What was that?” I demanded. “What did you do?”
    The buzzing in my palm where Mr. Kale touched me was suddenly in my head. I slapped my hands over my ears, but I couldn’t shut the sound out. The buzzing was inside , rattling my brain. My head felt like it was full of flies. Full of static, so loud I could barely hear my own thoughts.
    My eyes flew from face to face. Who were these people, and why were they looking at me like they’d found a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk and planned to keep it? And what was Parker doing here?
    “He was invited,” Mr. Kale said. “Like you.”
    “What?” I lowered my hands from my ears. I couldn’t have heard him right.
    “You wondered what your brother is doing here. I’m telling you.”
    “How did you … you didn’t … you couldn’t …” I couldn’t. Finish the sentence, that is.
    I thought of the way the air had prickled when Mr. Kalestared Schiz down, and how that prickling had migrated into my skull, and I was suddenly terrified.
    He read my mind. He read my freaking mind!
    No way. Not possible .
    In an instant, the buzzing died down. Mr. Kale’s mouth twisted into a knowing smile. A knowing-too-much smile.
    I looked at Parker. He reached into his pocket and removed a flat, rectangular card. He flipped it to show me the face. The image. An androgynous person floating in the center of a circle. Another tarot card. Another circle.
    I shook my head. “What does it mean?”
    Katrina plucked the card from his fingers, produced her deck, and slid it back among the other cards.
    “The name of his card is the World,” Katrina said, and smiled at Parker. “It’s the card he drew. The card that drew him, actually. It’s a sign that he’s meant to be one of us. Potential Seekers always draw the World, and this deck is never wrong. It’s more than two hundred years old. Belonged to my great-great-great grandmother, the founder of our circle, and it always knows what’s inside a person. Parker is meant to serve our cause.”
    I raised an eyebrow at my brother, who held up his hands in a show of helplessness.
    “She stopped me in the hall before fourth period and asked me to pick a card,” he explained. “Then she told me to come to this room after school. She said you’d be here, too.”
    My gaze swung to Katrina. She was standing on her heels, arms behind her back, biting her lip in a playful, seductive way. Like Lolita.
    “Who are you? Do you even go to this school?” I asked her. “I’ve never seen you before today.”
    “Oh, I’ve been hanging around a lot lately,” she said. “I thought we’d tested nearly everyone at Skyline for the Spark. I couldn’t believe we’d missed you until Uncle Kale told me this is your first day back since the quake.”
    Now it was Parker who raised eyebrows at me, waiting for an explanation. All I could do was shake my head, but the word she used, the Spark … that was what it felt like when Mr. Kale touched my hand.
    Sparks. Miniature lightning bolts.
    Mr. Kale cleared his throat. “We’ll explain as much as we can. Mia, Parker, please have a seat.”
    In my mind, I heard Jeremy say, You do not want to get involved with these people. They’re dangerous .
    “I think I’ve heard enough,” I told them.
    “Mia,” Parker said. “Let’s listen to what they have to say. It can’t hurt.”
    “No. We