Boxed Set: The Ink Series Volume 1-5 Read online

  At one time I think Dad liked that about her. He said she was the boss, but soon I think he found it to be more nagging than a good thing to be. Dad still adored her till this day. I knew that for a fact. He never spoke a bad word about her, even after Pete. I really believed Dad would always be truly and madly in love with Mom. Even if she gave up and found a new love.

  We sat eating chili and joking about the kids in Cherry, laughing at our cheesy jokes and forgetting that I had almost taken Lydia’s head off with my biology book. It was nice.

  As Dad cleared the dishes, giving me a break from that chore, there was a wrapping on the front door. Not expecting anyone for the evening, I hurried off to answer it.

  I gasped. “Campbell!”

  Campbell gave a big wave, inviting herself inside.

  “Expelled. That’s just glorious.” She shoved into my shoulder, a big grin on her face.

  “Well, I don’t know about glorious,” I said. I also didn’t know why she was standing before me. I had hit her friend with a textbook. I thought that qualified for shunning.

  “I would do anything to be done with Ashwilder. You’re lucky, I promise you. So what have you been up to?” She eyed me. I moved out of her way and let her take a seat on the couch next to Easton. Easton grew fidgety, jabbing the buttons on his controller more aggressively. Campbell gave him a smile, going right back to our conversation.

  “It’s only been a couple hours since it all happened, so I haven’t been up to much. So, is Lydia planning on killing me now?” I took a seat on the loveseat, shoving Elliot’s feet to the ground. He groaned, refusing to let me have any room, and flung his feet back into my lap.

  Dad resurfaced in the middle of the kitchen and living room, a towel slung over his shoulder, sponge in hand.

  “Hi, Mr. Zigler,” Campbell said, wiggling her fingers at him in a dainty wave. She gave me a look. The ‘your dad is hot look.’ I knew it all too well.

  “Campbell, it’s really good to see you. I bet that made Hope feel good,” he said with a nod. I shot him a look, pleading with him not to embarrass me.

  “Dad, we’ll be in my room,” I said, springing up off the couch, Elliot’s feet tumbling to the ground. He shouted some form of insult at me as we headed down the hallway. Campbell laughed.

  “I wish I had little brothers,” she told me. I let her enter my room first. She plopped down on my bed, startling Crawford awake with the loud screech.

  “You can have mine. I think my dad might sell them to you.” I grinned, shutting the bedroom door. Campbell plucked at the strings on one of my pink heart pillows.

  “Lydia was livid. She has never been so insulted in her life. Well, that’s how she puts it. I say she got what she deserved.” Campbell smiled, her eyes filled with amusement.

  I sat down at my desk, turning in my chair to face Campbell. “I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I was just really angry. What is it with this town?” I looked off, feeling emotional. “Everyone treats me like I’m some awful person, and like they are all better than me. I didn’t do anything that night.”

  Campbell raised a hand, stopping me from spilling anymore. “You don’t have to tell me that. I believe you.”

  “Really?” I asked, skeptical still.

  She gave a nod, sitting up. “Anaya didn’t do anything either. And I get this sick feeling that you could have ended up the same way she did. Only for some reason, you didn’t.”

  My heart sped up in my chest. It was eerie hearing someone compare me to a dead girl. “I don’t remember a lot about that night. But, I really don’t think Tucker is being honest. I’m pretty sure he wasn’t there, Campbell.” She was the first person I admitted this to. Who else was going to believe me? Everyone else only saw Tucker from the outside. They liked what they saw. He had a way to charm any and everybody. Why would such a charming boy lie? Dad only wanted Tucker to stay away because he knew how I felt about the situation. I was scared and a little traumatized. He was trying to do whatever he needed to make me feel better.

  “He wasn’t.” Campbell grew serious. She bit her lip looking down at her fingernails. “Tucker was talking with his stepmother and Jimmy. I remember because Anita was practically barricading him against the side of the house. She’s really abrasive. I don’t know how his dad puts up with it. But anyways, it wasn’t until someone pointed out they saw something strange on the beach that a bunch of the kids took off to figure out what it was.” Campbell twirled a couple strands of hair around her pointer finger. “Everyone thought maybe it was a fish or animal that washed up on shore, it was dark it was hard to tell.”

  I cringed. It was me.

  “Tucker told the police that he stopped Slade from attacking me, and now I know he was lying.” I jumped up from my seat. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do next, but it was my first reaction.

  “Whoa, Hope. I didn’t come over here to get you agitated. I simply wanted to tell you that you shouldn’t feel bad for what happened that night or today. It wasn’t your fault,” Campbell insisted.

  “I know that Campbell. I was drugged. And for some reason they are trying to place all the blame on Slade. I know Tucker’s dad put something in that drink.”

  “You can’t say that to anyone. No one is going to believe you,” Campbell warned me, starting to look really panicked.

  “Believe me, I know. But I don’t think it’s fair that Slade gets treated like some horrible person because of Everett’s dad. Why do they hate him so much?” It infuriated me to know all the bad stuff Slade went through because of these people. And he wasn’t even a bad guy.

  “I can’t say for sure. All I know is Slade and Tucker were once good friends. And last summer that all ended very badly. Slade got kicked out of school and Tucker turned into even more of a prick then he already was. Especially to every girl in school. He used them like tissues, tossing each one to the side. It’s like a game to him.” Campbell sighed.

  “Slade is a good guy. He would have never done such a thing. I’m just glad to be out of there, I guess.” I crossed my arms, staring at Campbell who was silent.

  “The Slade I remember was. I only had him in one of my classes but he never caused anyone any problems. He was totally invested in singing and music. But when the whole town shuns someone, including my parents, there isn’t much I can do but go along with it.” Campbell stood up. She ran her hands down her shirt, smoothing it. “I got to go, Hope. I’ll give you a call sometime. Have a great time for the both of us okay?” She grinned, giving me a quick wave before she headed out the door.

  Intoxicating

  Homework is easy when it’s your main source of education. School was no longer school. It was endless amounts of homework. And I was so bored alone in my house that I easily mulled through a week’s worth of school in just two days.

  Logging off the website, I spun around in my chair, trying to think of something else to do now to keep me busy. It was only noon. Dad wouldn’t be home until six. The boys wouldn’t be around until four. I had the whole house to myself.

  First, I stripped my fingernails of the chipped pink nail polish. Then I threw my iPod on my stereo dock and rocked out to Buckcherry’s “Next to you”. I paid careful attention to each brush stroke, doing the best I could to paint my fingernails black.

  The other night I was cleaning out an old shoebox under my bed, I had found the nail polish I had bought for last Halloween. Only now it was more a serious attempt at fashion. A simple way to step a little closer to the darkside. Admittedly I was attempting to dip a couple toes into Slade’s world. And I hoped he noticed.

  Slade hung around in my thoughts all throughout the day. I had to keep telling myself it was natural to pine over a boy. It was never something I did much of. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to be close to him. I found myself wanting inside his head to see exactly what he was thinking and feeling. He was that interesting.

  I blew on my fingernails staring off into space. Life was going to get extremely
boring quickly with nothing to occupy me. And that exact thought is what lead me all the way back to PauWau.

  As I wandered through the aisle of books, the same eerie presence filled up the whole store and coursed through me. It was like it was abandoned and empty. And dusty.

  Really dusty.

  I looked around for Circe, hoping she would pop out of some nook or cranny and spit on me again. Anything to bring some excitement into my life. Something to entertain my bored soul for awhile.

  I stepped lightly across the wooden floor. The wood let out a noisy creek at each step that I made. I plucked a book from the shelf. Black Magic, I read. This was interesting seeing the internet suggested this when I did my snooping. But to my disappointment, it seemed to be more historical than actual spells.

  I stuffed it back onto the shelf, wandering further down the aisle. I got on my tiptoes gazing up at jars on the highest shelf. I located a stool, dragged it over, and climbed up.

  “Disgusting,” I muttered, shaking the yellow, viscous blob inside the bottle. A murky center surrounded by oily liquid stared back at me. I replaced the jar, moving onto the next. Another unidentifiable concoction.

  “Welcome back,” Circe called from below. She seemed to appear out of nowhere. Today her hair was braided into a silky sheen of white hair down her back and she was wearing a long dress with a dark shawl tied at her breast.

  “Just trying to keep busy.” I smiled. She waved me to the back. I followed, interested in whatever she had going on.

  She pulled a latch on a door. It looked like storage possibly. Giving two looks over her shoulder, she waved me inside.

  “What is this place?” I asked, looking around at the shelving. Really, it was nothing more than tons of boxes with a small spot in the center with two milk crates acting as seats and another milk crate that was being used as a makeshift table. Large candles burned on top of the crate, big indents in them showing me they had been burning for some time.

  Circe took a seat, her dress falling around her feet as she sat before me. “Please sit. I would like to know more about you.” She took my hand, pulling me to the other crate.

  I took a deep breath, hoping I could handle whatever else was about to happen. I knew I didn’t believe in fortunes but the whole environment was providing the perfect backdrop for fright.

  She pulled the string that swayed overheard, leaving us illuminated only by the soft yellow flicker of the flame on the candles. The fire bounced shadows off all the boxes behind her.

  My skin grew warm as Circe took my hand in hers, she dropped her head. “I have lived a long life and I have learned a lot about spirits. About magic. About life,” she sputtered.

  “One hundred and five years worth,” I added. I was sure she was a very knowledgeable person.

  “You are a strong girl. Who is very troubled...Very troubled. Your heart is heavy, Hope.” She lifted her head, looking deep into my eyes.

  “Well, yeah sure.” I shrugged it off. But Circe clearly wanted more from me. “My parents are screwed up. Well, they screwed up and now I am here with my dad and brothers. I miss my home, my friends, and my old life.”

  Circe gripped my hands tighter. “There is something deeper. Something darker. You’re full of darkness.”

  “I’m a happy person. I don’t know what that means.” I shook my head, confused.

  “There are very bad people out there. People with evil in them. Shadows of evil that can consume you. You’re a good girl, no?” She eyed me carefully now, looking me over a little too closely.

  I stayed completely still, afraid to move. Circe raised a single finger, coming toward me, my eyes intense on her single fingertip drifting toward my forehead. Suddenly, her head dropped, her shoulders slumped and she grew still. Her finger pressed against my forehead. I remained calm. She was old, maybe she was taking a cat nap. Who was I to say anything to this woman?

  But as she let out a blood curdling scream and started convulsing, that’s when I screamed. The lock on the door slid shut and I was trapped in the closet with Circe and her convulsing body that was shrieking, shrieking so loudly it was ringing my ears. She fell over the candles, plunging me into darkness.

  “Stop, “I cried, fumbling for the lock, swinging my hands over my head for the string to turn the light back on, the handle, anything to escape. Her legs battled against me as she flailed behind me. Her screams making me panic.

  Suddenly, I was struck by something stiff and cold and fell into the door, sliding down to the ground. I felt around for any signs of Circe or the candles. My fingers quickly probing the ground, by some miracle I found an old matchbook.

  Striking a match, I screamed in terror at Circe’s face that was inches from my own, her gummy mouth gaping wide, her eyes crazy, and still she was screaming. Her body slammed against the shelf sending a barrage of boxes on my head. The match fizzled out, and I was now completely mortified, half pinned under the weight of whatever was in them.

  I choked on the dust and the foul stench that slowly floated through the room. Eventually, the screaming ceased, everything fell silent. As I kicked and pushed myself free, glass crackled beneath me. Whatever was in the boxes had broken and I was now lying in shards of glass.

  “Help!” I cried, my veins bulging in my neck as I screamed for anyone to release me from this closet of horror. I screamed and screamed until I had nothing left, sucking in air and screaming some more.

  “Circe?” I called out, hoping for an answer. Hoping for anything. The thought she was dead made me violently ill. She possibly was dead and locked away in the vile, smelly, death trap with me. I kicked some more, pulling myself up and then I banged on the door again, screaming for anyone to help me. My clothes were damp from whatever had spilled all over the place.

  “Please let me out of here, please!” I pleaded, my fist beating the door with every ounce of energy I had left. Circe let out a crackling exhale of air. Restoring some calm in my body, but only slightly.

  The door swung open finally, sending me falling onto the ground right in front of Lucy and Slade. I toppled over, landing at their feet a crying mess. I screamed and squirmed, totally losing it.

  “Slade, you take care of her. I’ll check on Circe,” Lucy asserted, stepping over me and jumping right into that awful room with Circe. I sobbed uncontrollably on the floor. Slade kneeled down, placing a hand on my back. “It’s okay. Come on.”

  I allowed him to help me up, holding tight to his body as we made it to the front of the store. I wiped at my eyes, trying to make sense of my surroundings. Slade pulled an old chair over, guiding me to sit down. He slid his hand over my legs, which were scratched up from the glass. I was bleeding and this was only adding to my mortification.

  “It’s not bad. We just need to clean you up,” he insisted.

  I stared down at my clothes that were stained with blood. Way too much blood. So much blood that I knew that it couldn’t be mine. Which meant it wasn’t mine.

  I screamed.

  “I’m covered in blood!” I swatted at my body, frantically trying to get it off of me.

  Slade grabbed my hands. “It’s animal blood, calm down. You’re cut we need to clean your legs up.” I wasn’t even sure how he could tell that I was, but I figured he was more logical right now than I was.

  Slade walked over to the front of the store, unlocking a door that I had never noticed. He waved his hand for me to follow him.

  Upstairs was more or less a small bedroom with a bathroom.

  “This is Circe’s place. She stays up here and runs PauWau,” Slade told me as he ran water in the bathroom. I waited patiently on the bed, too emotionally drained to do anything else.

  “Let’s wash you up,” he muttered, trying to pull off my shirt.

  I fought back. “What are you doing?” I asked, alarmed.

  Slade searched my eyes, confused. “You’re covered in blood, you reek, and you’re bleeding. We need to clean you up. Now is not the time to worry about getting
embarrassed.” He pulled at my shirt, but I wasn’t budging.

  “I can undress myself. Is there anything I can put on?” I questioned, feeling very overwhelmed.

  Slade slipped his shirt over his head revealing a black undershirt. He handed it over, chucking the other shirt on the ground. Now he had nothing to wear, seeing my clinging to him dirtied his shirt as well.

  “This is the best I can do,” he said, standing before me, shirtless. I was too upset to enjoy him shirtless.

  I took the shirt and headed into the bathroom.

  “I left the washrag on the sink,” he called from the other side of the door.

  I immersed my hands in the hot water, watching as it instantly turned light pink. I ran the washcloth over my face, down my neck and across each arm getting as much of the filth and blood off of me as possible.

  Next, I wrung out the rag, lathering it up with a bar of soap that sat on the edge of the sink. A winter fresh scent filled my nose and replaced the putrid stench. Ten minutes later I was back to looking like Hope and less like Carrie. I gave up any hope of saving my clothes, and tossed them in the wastebasket hoping Circe wouldn’t be upset that I left them behind. Slade’s undershirt fell mid-thigh on me, which was good enough to make it home in. Anyone that would see me would mistake me for a swimmer, I thought.

  “Way better,” Slade said. He sat on the middle of the bed, waiting patiently for me to return.

  I let out a sigh, finally able to process what had just happened, and I was completely disturbed. Never in my life had something so terrifying ever happened to me. It was like Circe was possessed or being attacked by something. Something evil, something not human. I tried blinking away my tears, but it was no use.

  “What just happened?” I sobbed.

  Slade stood, wrapping his arms around me for comfort. He held on to me tightly, allowing me to let it all out, not saying anything until he was sure I was done crying. When I finally settled, he cleared his throat and we both took a seat.

  “Oz and I grew up together—since we were in elementary school. Our parents created Evil Kings of Ink. And like I told you, we were always traveling because the band was a huge success,” he explained, rubbing at the back of his neck. “While on tour, there was an accident. A huge accident on the way to the next concert. Something so bad it wiped out everyone on the bus. I was fourteen.”