Angela thought that the next four hours until dinner would go by slowly since she wasn't allowed to go in the kitchen and she had already worked out that morning, but when she went downstairs to the cot in the storage room, she realized that she was really tired. She decided to lie down for a bit and ended up falling asleep. She had really crazy dreams about stuff like Harry Potter and Dracula having a singing contest, or about being chased by a giant winged rattlesnake that bit her on the shoulder. When she woke up a few hours later, she felt almost more tired than she had when she had fallen asleep.
She looked at her watch and saw that it was just after five thirty. She groaned and stretched, working out the kinks in her muscles, especially her right shoulder, which was in knots from the still-healing cut. She sighed, and pulled her knees up to her chest, not wanting to get up just yet. It had been a long, hard day, and, if what Hogan was saying was true, it wasn’t over yet. She wasn’t sure what it was he wanted to “do” with her tonight, or why he needed “everybody” to be there for it, but she was sure she probably wouldn’t like it.
Did this mean her life was going to end tonight? Would she really never see her parents again? Would she never see her friends again? Would she never go to school again, never pursue her dreams again? Was she going to die underneath a creepy, abandoned motel, killed for some occult ceremony by the curator and owner?
Angela didn’t like where her thoughts were going, so she got up off the cot and onto the floor to meditate. She crossed her legs so her feet were up on top of her thighs, sitting in the Full Lotus position. She elongated her spine and brought her hands together, placing her right hand on top of her left and resting them in her lap next to her navel. She relaxed her shoulders, tucked her chin in, opened her jaw, and rested her gaze, looking ahead of her without really focusing on anything.
Taking several deep breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth, she began the meditation. She focused on letting all of her unpleasant thoughts and fears rise to the surface of her mind as if they were leaves floating on a pond. She let the pond become a stream and envisioned all of those unpleasant thoughts floating away. She accepted her fear of death, let herself be completely immersed in it for a little while before letting it float away as well.
By the end of her meditation session, tears were streaming down her face, but Angela no longer felt overwhelmed by terror and dread. Instead, she felt sad but calm. She took a few more cleansing breaths before unfolding herself from the Full Lotus position and standing up. She looked at her watch: it was 5:52. She had better get herself upstairs if she wanted to have dinner. She went to the bathroom first and redid her loose and messy ponytail so that it was neat and tidy again, then ran upstairs, making it to the kitchen at 5:58.
Hogan was waiting for her in the kitchen. He looked like he wanted to comment on her tardiness, but he didn't say anything, probably to keep up the pretense of being her nice uncle in front of Manny and Mara. Dinner was a marinated chicken with a rice pilaf and a tossed salad. It was delicious, but Angela didn’t enjoy it as much as she would have liked since Hogan stayed in the kitchen to eat with her. Occasionally he would ask her questions about her day in a pleasant tone, to which Angela would respond, using one word whenever possible, but most of their dinner was filled with an awkward silence.
Manny seemed pleased that Hogan was making an effort to be with his “niece,” and did not try to interrupt. Angela, though, knew that Hogan was eating with her not to be with her, but instead to keep her from hanging out with the “hired help” any more than was absolutely necessary. Eating dinner with her in the kitchen was merely a convenient way to keep Manny from being too nosy and Angela from being too friendly.
Because of this, Angela didn’t get to know Mara very well. Mara was a girl about Angela’s age, with rectangular glasses perched on her small nose and her hair trimmed in a neat bob just below her ears. From what Angela saw of her, she gathered that Mara was a rather quiet girl anyways, unlike Emma. Perhaps it was a good thing that it was Mara serving them and not Emma, who probably would have given Hogan a piece of her mind.
After they had finished eating, Hogan escorted Angela out of the kitchen. He paused at the top of the stairs. “I have some people coming over tonight. Stay in the storage room and out of sight until I come and get you.”
Angela opened her mouth to protest, but that was as far as she got. For the third time in twenty-four hours, she was tackled and thrown to the floor by the invisible force that she probably would never get used to. It came so unexpectedly that she couldn’t help but cry out.
Hogan crouched down in front of her, kneeling on one knee. “You’ve been acting pretty cheeky today, getting into trouble and testing my patience. You seem to have forgotten who the master is here.”
“I’m—I’m sorry,” Angela said, her voice shaking.
“Of course you are, now that you’ve been punished.” He sighed. “I should have done this earlier, but having Miles here got in the way.”
Angela didn’t even try to respond, instead focusing on keeping her breathing steady. Even with all of her efforts, she was starting to wheeze.
Hogan waited a few moments longer before releasing the spell. “Dimitto.” He stood up and waited for Angela to pick herself up, not once offering her a hand. Once she was back on her feet, he pointed down the stairs. “Storage room. Now.”
Angela obeyed, practically stumbling down the stairs due to the uncontrollable shaking of her legs. She threw herself down onto the cot, not even bothering to close the door. It was just one more small act of rebellion in Hogan’s ever-increasing tight grip on her and her life. She lay there on the cot for nearly an hour, not really doing or thinking anything, just soaking in the sensation of living and breathing. She savored each breath, feeling it swirl in her lungs before letting it back out again.
Eventually, she got up and opened up her backpack, looking for something to do. Hogan had not only taken her cell phone but her iPod as well—which made sense, considering a lot of iPods were capable of texting now. He did, however, leave her books and puzzle books. She pulled out the one she had been reading but ended up giving up on it after half an hour. There was just too much going on right now for her to get any satisfaction out of escaping into the fictional world. Instead, she got out her Sudoku book and began working on the next puzzle.
She must have eventually fallen asleep because the next thing she knew Hogan was kicking at her cot. “Get up.”
Angela sat up and looked around, bewildered. “Is it morning already?”
“No, it’s almost midnight. Now get up.” Angela complied, and Hogan shoved a small bundle into her arms. “Change into this. Let your hair down, and take off your socks. You have two minutes.” He backed out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
She shook out the bundle to take a look at it. It was a long, shapeless white gown, with short sleeves and no decorations. Angela’s mouth went dry, and her heart beat wildly against her rib cage. She tried not to think about what it might mean, and instead focused on getting changed as quickly as possible so Hogan didn’t try to barge in on her while she was naked.
She managed to get dressed just in time; she was undoing her ponytail when he opened the door. He swept a glance from her head to her feet before giving a curt nod of approval. “Follow me,” was all he said before turning and walking down the hallway. Angela had to sprint to catch up, following just a few steps behind him, her bare feet slapping against the cold tile. He led her away from the stairs and around two corners before stopping in front of the double doors that led into the large, empty central room.
Hogan knocked softly, and the doors opened. Angela couldn't help but gasp a little when she saw how the room had changed. There were ten or so people stationed all around the edges of the room, all of them wearing black robes over their clothes. Five standing candlesticks were placed at each point of the pentagram inscribed on the floor, and strange symbols had been written in chalk in various sections of the circle. A copper bowl on the floor between the door and the pentagram contained burning incense, and the rising smoke filled the room with a murky haze.
Hogan pushed her forward. “Stand there,” he said, pointing at the pentagram. “Right in the center.”
Angela licked her lips and tried to swallow. She took a deep breath of the cleaner air out in the hallway, then walked inside the room. Even then the smoke and the strong smell of incense made her cough a bit.
The tension in the room was almost more stifling than the smoke and incense. Ten pairs of eyes watched her as she made her way to the center of the pentagram. She turned and faced the doors, which were being closed even as she did so. One of the people handed Hogan a black robe, and he quickly pulled it over his head, slipping his arms into the sleeves.
Hogan walked toward her, stopping a few feet outside the encircled pentagram. He held his palm out toward her and said, “Dimidium Ligatum.”
A force similar to the shackle spell pulled Angela to the ground, but it wasn’t as strong, so instead of being forced into a face-down position, she was only pulled down to her knees. Angela tried her best to keep calm, but even so, her breathing sped up. She would end up hyperventilating if she wasn’t careful.
Hogan turned to look at one of the robed figures, who nodded and said, “It’s time.” Angela recognized the voice as Mr. Worthington’s.
Hogan raised his hands to about shoulder-level. “Let us begin,” he said.
The robed figures closed in until they were surrounding Angela and Hogan in a wide circle about fifteen feet in diameter. They each brought their hands together in front of their chests and began a low, rumbling chant. They seemed to be speaking in the same language that Hogan used for the spell, but it was so low and garbled that Angela couldn’t make out the individual words.
Hogan raised his hands a little higher and brought his gaze upward. “Caelo sursum et in terra deorsum et spiritibus malis, audite me et custodiunt!” He brought his hands out, holding them both toward Angela. “Ecce autem virginem, pura et pulchra.”
Reaching into the robe’s pocket, he pulled out a small drawstring bag. He opened it and pulled out a handful of powder, which he flung into the air over Angela’s head. She coughed a little, but, miraculously, she did not have an asthma attack.
“Videte corpus, quam tibi offero tibi.”
Tears from the smoke filled Angela’s eyes, blurring her vision. She tried to wipe her eyes, only to discover that she could not move her arms. Hogan’s figure swam in front of her, moving in and out of focus.
“Tua accipe eam corporis miscite illi pulmones ventum.”
Involuntarily, Angela’s breathing slowed, her muscles relaxing. She could barely see anything now, and Hogan’s voice sounded as if it were coming from far away, echoing in her mind.
“Videant oculis et auribus audiant, ore loqui.”
Angela was no longer worried about dying or being used as a sacrifice, or anything of the sort. Her mind was molasses, thick and syrupy, and it was an effort just to hear what Hogan was saying.
“Sicut locuti estis, ita erit.”
Whoof. A large body slammed into Angela’s chest, knocking the wind right out of her. She panicked, and suddenly realized that she could see. But the angle was all wrong. Instead of being down on the ground, she was near the ceiling, looking down on…herself. It wasn’t the wind that had been knocked out of her—she had been knocked out of her own body!
Angela almost didn’t believe it at first, but then she saw her body twitch, almost as if it were possessed. It was still kneeling on the ground, in an upright position. If she had left her body, shouldn’t it have fallen to the ground? Or was it being kept upright by the spell? But then her body twitched again, its fingers making jerky movements.
Suddenly Angela realized what was happening, what the whole ceremony was about. They were trying to force her out of her body for somebody else to use! Oh, no, you don’t! she shouted. She dived toward her body and embraced it in a giant bear hug, squeezing as hard as she could. There was a brief struggle as whatever was in her body fought against her. She squeezed even harder, and she suddenly felt a jolt. Then there was only darkness.