The Prophecy Read online

  "I don't know," Catty answered.

  Tianna squeezed between a man and a woman pushing a stroller. Her hoodie was zipped over her amulet.

  "The Scroll's in the special exhibition gallery. One of the guards said it would be at least an hour wait," Tianna said, and she looked around. "I'm getting a snow cone. Anyone want anything?"

  When no one answered, Tianna left them again.

  "We might as well get in line." Vanessa sat down on the sidewalk next to two girls from Turney High, who were reading books on illuminated manuscripts.

  Catty and Serena squeezed in on either side of Vanessa, staring at her.

  "What?" Vanessa glanced down at her hands as if she feared they might have been vanishing.

  "If you can make us invisible," Catty whispered, "we could get into the museum right now."

  Serena clasped Vanessa's wrist, ready to go.

  Vanessa shook her head. "Too many people are here. For sure, someone will see us disappear or reappear, and, with everything else going on, we don't need to add that to the mix."

  Catty let her head fall back against the old May Company building that was now part of the museum complex. "You're right," she said.

  An hour later, they stepped inside the Ahmanson wing. The line circled around the open court in the middle of the building that connected all four stories. Abruptly, the air shifted, becoming cold and unnaturally heavy.

  The two girls in front of Catty giggled and waved their hands over their heads.

  "Do you feel it?" Tianna whispered.

  Serena nodded. "Who wouldn't?"

  Catty rubbed her temples, wondering why she felt suddenly so dizzy. She was supposed to be immune to the scroll’s curse. Then, with a jolt, she realized that the power coming from the parchment was pulsing gently around her, seeping into her lungs, not threatening but caressing her in welcome, its force stronger than ever.

  "It didn't feel like this before, did it?" Catty asked, certain that it hadn't.

  Vanessa shook her head, trying to mask her fear, but Catty had known her long enough to see through her guise.

  Catty glanced at Serena, and by her vacant gaze, knew she was sending out her thoughts, searching for Regulators.

  "I can barely breathe," Tianna whispered.

  Catty looked at the people surrounding them. "Why isn't everyone afraid?" she asked.

  "They think the museum is creating the hype around the Scroll to get more visitors," Serena answered with authority, her eyes still wide and focused on something only she could see. "No one believes there's really a curse. They just think the odd vibration coming from the Scroll is a special effect created by the curators."

  "That's why they're acting like this is some kind of haunted house." Tianna started to shiver, then pulled the hood of her sweatshirt over her head against the cold.

  Catty wondered if the Scroll had become that powerful, but before she could consider further, a different sensation rolled over her in waves. It was an unmistakable electrical charge.

  A jagged, blue bolt crackled overhead. It looked like tiny, forked lightning. It hung over Catty for a moment before twisting back with a dreadful snap.

  The two girls in front of her jumped and tried to catch the sparks cascading to the floor. Other people squealed with delight; no one seemed panicked.

  "The Regulators have found us! Where are they?" Catty asked impatiently. Instinct told her to run, but she walked cautiously forward, her body tense.

  "Close," Serena muttered, her face tight with concentration as her mind continued to explore.

  "The Scroll must be able to affect people even through the display case," Vanessa said. "I feel feverish."

  Serena nudged Catty's elbow. "Regulators," she whispered. "I found them."

  Catty's head snapped around, frantically studying the faces in the crowd.

  When the line moved forward, closer to the display, Vanessa pointed, and at the same moment, the odd electrical vibration grew stronger, seizing Catty and pulsing through her.

  Three tall men with silky, gray hair and perfectly fitted black suits stood in front of a display of pre-Columbian art.

  "They look like escapees from a wax museum," Tianna said.

  Vanessa grasped Catty's arm as if she needed an anchor. Catty could feel the buzz of Vanessa's molecules trying to break free from gravity.

  Tianna folded her arms over her chest. "I wonder what they look like without their disguise."

  "You don't want to see." Catty shuddered, remembering other encounters.

  "We'll beat them." Vanessa spoke confidently. "Just because they're powerful doesn't mean they're smart."

  "At least they can't destroy the Scroll," Serena said to Catty. "Only you can do that."

  "But if they can get it first, they could take it away and make it impossible for us to find." Catty's sense of urgency grew, but it wasn't just the Regulators that concerned her. She didn't like the way people seemed to be affected by the Scroll's curse so quickly. She stared at the illuminated manuscript displayed inside the circular case. She would have felt overcome by its beauty if the smell of menthol cough drops hadn't been so strong. Coughs echoed around her, some deep and guttural.

  A woman sneezed on the glass and the people with her laughed, but their own eyes looked red and puffy with fever. Did they think their physical symptoms were also special effects?

  She turned to Serena.

  "They don't get it," Serena answered her mental question. "It's as if the Scroll has given them a sense of euphoria to keep them from worrying about how sick they're becoming."

  "We have to act quickly," Catty said.

  "When?" Vanessa asked.

  "Tonight," Catty answered, as a heavy foreboding settled over her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  CA T T Y WA L K E D T H R O U G H the park behind the museum. A late afternoon breeze rushed through the trees, stirring leaves. Vanessa, Serena, and Tianna had gone over to The Grove to eat dim sum at Madame Woo's, but Catty's stomach was churning and the thought of food made her queasy. Her mind raced, trying to find another way to get the Scroll without exposing her friends to its curse or to the Regulators.

  Her concern quickly turned to self-reproach. If she had stolen the Scroll when she'd had the chance, no one would have been in danger now. She considered going back in time for one last try, but she was too concerned that if she did, she would use up her remaining energy, and she might need it in the coming hours.

  Catty turned down another path, the late afternoon shadows stretching in front of her. When she glanced up, she saw Kyle sitting on a bench, his back to her, wearing jeans and a faded black T-shirt, wind ruffling his hair. A drawing pad rested on his knee and a tackle box filled with pencils and charcoals sat beside him.

  Curiosity got the best of her. She crept up behind him, avoiding dried leaves and twigs that might have given her away. Then, from a safe distance, she watched him sketch a boy and a dog playing catch with a Frisbee.

  His hand darted to the top of the page to draw in the clouds, and his spiked, leather bracelet caught the sun.

  Her eyes drifted up his chest and neck to his profile. Even with most of his face turned from her, she could see that he was incredibly handsome, and before she could repress her thoughts, her mind filled with the memory of his body pressed against hers.

  "Hi, Catty," Kyle said without turning.

  She caught her breath. "How did you—" and then she saw her shadow stretching over the bench and onto the grass in front of him. But a shadow didn't have detail. "You couldn't have known it was me," she argued.

  "I recognized your scent," he answered without looking at her.

  She laughed nervously and in spite of herself sniffed under her arms.

  His laughter made her stop. He was still watching her shadow. Her face burned. Had he seen her?

  "Your scented shampoo," he said. "Or maybe it's a body lotion, I don't know. I like it."

  "Shampoo," she answered, hoping he wouldn'
t turn now and see her blush.

  "You've been standing there for at least ten minutes." He flipped the sketch pad closed. "I was waiting for you to say something."

  "You're really talented," she said, hoping to change the subject. She had no explanation for what she had been doing. "I don't have that kind of imagination."

  "You do," he said, and turned. "I've seen your work."

  "Thank you." She blushed again, her eyes suddenly nervous and afraid to look into his. She became self-conscious of the low-cut waistline of her jeans. She ran a nervous finger across her exposed hip bone and bit her lip. What was happening to her?

  "If you're so interested in my drawing, maybe you'd like to see my paintings." He picked up his pad, snapped the tackle box shut, and started walking toward the parking lot. "Coming?"

  She wanted to see his work, but that meant spending time with him, and she had other things she needed to do. She glanced up as he disappeared behind a hedge. She sighed heavily, undecided, then ran after him, hating the way he made her feel confused and uneasy. She stopped at the edge of the parking lot.

  He stood beside the passenger-side door of an old, rusted Chevy, waiting for her. She scowled. How had he known she would follow him? His conceit was unbearable. Catty thought she probably disliked him more than any guy she had ever met.

  He chuckled. "Did something upset you?"

  "No," she said.

  He opened the door of his car and she slid in. The interior smelled of stale beer and cigarettes. Gently he eased the door closed, still smiling at her.

  The sun had set by the time they drove under the gold dragon archway and entered the streets of Chinatown. A fanfare of neon lights and spicy fragrances filled the car. Catty rolled her window down. "You live here?"

  "In a loft at the other end. They just converted the old mill into apartments. I get free rent in exchange for maintenance."

  Catty studied him. "You live alone?"

  "With friends," he answered vaguely.

  Minutes later, Catty walked slowly into the huge room, her footsteps echoing. A streetlight cast an amber glow across the unfinished floor. Drop cloths and easels, paints, palettes, and sketch pads cluttered long tables.

  Kyle opened a window, and an incredible smell filled the air. "That's the barbecued pork buns from downstairs," he said. "They're killer. Want to try some?"

  "Another time," Catty said, wondering why he didn't turn on the lights. "I have something I have to do tonight,"

  A match flared, and Kyle began lighting an array of candles set about the room. He smiled sheepishly in the firelight. "I forgot to pay the electric bill."

  Catty walked to the other side of the room. Even in the dim lighting she could see the huge canvases. The flickering flames seemed to make the surreal landscapes come alive. "I've never seen places like this," she said, as she gestured toward one of the paintings. "Do you think they really exist?"

  "Yes," he whispered.

  She could feel him watching her, and then his footsteps sounded on the floor, and she sensed him close behind her.

  "I like this one," Catty said and paused, amazed at the daring simplicity of the seascape, though the vastness of sky and ocean filled her with an intense loneliness. "I think I've seen this beach. Is it nearby?"

  "Very close."

  His hand brushed against her bare waist and guided her to the next canvas. The painting disturbed her. It showed only a line of trees, and there was something terrifying about it, the colors dark and brooding. Still, it looked so familiar, like something she remembered from a dream.

  "Dark Hides the Night," he whispered from behind her, his breath rushing down her neck. "That's what I call this one."

  Her throat tightened with nerves.

  Then his hand shot out, his finger outlining a shadow hovering in the branches.

  She bit her lip to keep from leaning against his arm. He drew his hand back and let it rest lightly on her shoulder. His touch made her breath catch.

  "This is really great work," she said, trying to keep her voice steady.

  "Do you like it?"

  "Yes." She closed her eyes, feeling his chest brush against her back.

  Then, before she was even aware of what she was doing, she turned, wrapped her arms around him, and pressed her body against his.

  She glanced up at him and boldly slipped her hands up his back. She wanted his kiss. If he pushed her away now, she didn't know what she'd do. But he smiled, his arms encircled her, and his fingers brushed the bare skin above her jeans. He looked down at her, taking his time and making her hungry with anticipation, and then his lips touched hers, surprisingly soft and warm.

  A jolt of pleasure rushed through her.

  She started to panic. How could she have been so brazen?

  But his kiss, so slow and tender, made her forget her worries. He kissed her again, and this time she had the odd sensation that something was pulling energy from her. Her strength slipped through her veins, spiraling away. She felt drained. Was Kyle doing something to her?

  Suddenly, his hands stopped searching, and he pulled back, startling her. "I'm sorry, Catty. I'd better take you home."

  "What?" she asked, feeling robbed. She stumbled backward, the room spinning, and nearly fell.

  Kyle grabbed her arm. "Are you okay, Catty?"

  She blinked. She'd only kissed one other guy before. She glanced up at Kyle, her cheeks warm. Had her kiss been that bad?

  "Come on." He started walking around the room, pinching out candle flames. The smell of smoke filled the air, and then he came back to her, slipped his arm around her shoulder, and started walking her to the door.

  After a few failed attempts at conversation, they drove back to her house in silence. She climbed out of the car and slammed the door. She didn't bother to say good-bye. She was never going to see Kyle again, anyway, and if she hadn't been so exhausted she'd have gone into the past and stolen back her kiss then and there. That was a definite "to do" for later. No way was he keeping a memory of this evening so he could laugh about her kisses with his friends.

  CHAPTER TEN

  IT W A S A L M O S T E I G H T when the horn honked. Catty hurried down the stairs, tying the belt of her wrap sweater, and ran outside.

  Vanessa was parked at he curb in her 1965 red Mustang convertible, her hair frosted with silver streaks. Catty slid into the front seat.

  "Ready?" Vanessa asked. She wore a bell sleeved sweater and matching purple mascara.

  "Let me borrow your makeup." Catty reached for Vanessa's purse from the back and pulled out the makeup bag. "If we're caught tonight, I want to look good for my mug shot."

  Vanessa laughed, her tense mood broken, and she pulled away from the curb as Catty swept electric-blue liner over her lids.

  "I just burned a new CD." Vanessa punched a button on her newly installed stereo, and guitar music roared into the night. Vanessa's voice flowed from the speakers, a magical blend of rock and soul.

  "That's really good," Catty said, complimenting her, and she spread red gloss over her lips. She turned to face Vanessa. "What do you think?"

  "You look like a vamp and totally smoochable."

  Catty hesitated, wondering if she should tell Vanessa about Kyle. But before she could find the words, the car headlights swept over the shadows in Serena's front yard, and they pulled over to the curb. Automatically, Catty searched the dark for moving shadows, wondering if Stanton were near.

  Serena waved from the front door and ran out to the car, pulling a fluffy hooded sweater over her velvet tank top. Rhinestones sparkled in her hair.

  "I think she's seeing too much of Stanton," Vanessa whispered to Catty as Serena approached. Vanessa spent time with Michael and his band, rehearsing and performing, but she also made time for the Daughters. Serena didn't.

  "What do they do together? She never talks about it anymore," Catty said in a low tone.

  Serena jumped into the backseat, her perfume enveloping them. "Hey," she said. "
I'm so ready for this. It feels like forever since we've done anything together."

  "It's been a long time," Vanessa agreed, looking pointedly at Catty.

  Serena leaned forward. "Let's not get into it tonight," she whispered, as if she had caught their thoughts. "I promise, you guys are still my priority."

  Catty nodded. "We miss you. That's all."

  Vanessa punched a button to skip to the next song. As the beat vibrated through them, they danced with their hands, their upper bodies moving, wind blowing through their hair.

  By the time they pulled up in front of the large Tudor house, Tianna was already waiting for them outside in a slinky jumpsuit, a chain belt slung around her hips.

  "Hey, guys." She jumped in next to Serena.

  A song and a half later, Vanessa shut off the music and parked on a side street near the museum.

  "Ready?" Vanessa opened her car door, got out, and stepped under a tree.

  Silently, they joined her, each lost in her own thoughts. A sudden breeze raced through the leaves, whipping shadows around them.

  "No negative thoughts or doubts," Vanessa cautioned as they clasped hands, forming a chain. Catty tried to give Vanessa a reassuring smile, but her own lips seemed frozen.

  Vanessa's eyes widened, a golden aura shimmered around her, and her power began to build. Immediately, Catty felt energy burn beneath her skin. Her molecules became restless, and her muscles stretched, pulling on bone. She gasped at the pain, but soon the discomfort dulled to a gentle ache.

  Vanessa's face blurred, fluttering into a swarm of specks before she disappeared.

  Catty floated up over the trees, the full moon's light washing over her. She loved the sensation of flying, of rippling through the air. Her senses seemed more vibrant now. She could taste the night, the tinge of ocean in the breeze, and even the sweet fragrance from a honeysuckle bush far below.

  Vanessa guided them, as they curled sinuously down through the locked gate at the front entrance to the museum; then they rode a sudden gust up high, skimming the skylights over the plaza.