[Disclaimer: I didn't put this on the first book, but I probably should've. Anyway, this is a fan fiction based on the series Sweep by Cate Tiernan. Therefore, all the characters in that series (Morgan, Hunter, Bree, ect.) are property of Mrs. Tiernan. Moira is also property of Cate Tiernan; however, I have created Moira's characterization for this series of books. Any other characters that you don't recognize from Sweep (Claire, Jamie, Rusty, ect.) and the plot are property of me. And I think that's it, so, on with the show! Thanks ~Katie]
Shadow Girl
Book Two: Soul Searching
[Chapter One: Jordan]
April 2
Grams and I just got here a few hours ago. I'm sitting in my new room surrounded by a lot of boxes--not the most homey setting. This whole journal thing isn't really my style, but one of my aunts had sent me this really nice one for my birthday, and I thought since I had just moved here, why not start using the journal? Of course Grams gave it The Eye when it came--she hates my aunts and uncles (God knows why).
So anyway. Widows Vale isn't so bad. Its a lot smaller than Bellmore, and the only body of water we're anywhere near is the Hudson River, so I'm gonna miss the Long Island beaches. After Grams retired from her secretary job, she kept saying how she wanted a bit of small-town life, and I was pretty wary. But now that we're here, I have a good feeling about Widow's Vale. I have a really good feeling.
--Jordan
"Moira, are you sure your parents aren't going to flip out?" My best friend, Claire D'Alessio, glanced in my direction as we walked up my front walk. She looked tense and nervous.
I, on the other hand, felt totally psyched. "Don't worry about it. Even if they do flip, which they won't, you're not the one who's gonna get their butt kicked. So chill, would you?"
"I dunno…"
I turned towards her and grabbed her shoulders. "Claire. My parents are two very powerful blood witches. They've gone up against a dark wave—and have beaten it. They've seen other witches being stripped of their magick. They witnessed a mother kill her own son. This isn't gonna freak them out, I swear." I walked the rest of the way up to the door, with Claire tagging along reluctantly.
I unlocked the door and flung it open. "Moooommyyy! Daaaaaddyyyy! Your wonderful daughter is hooooome!"
"Hallo, Moira," my dad's English-accented voice sung out, and I could tell he was coming into the living room, where I was. "How was your--" Dad stopped abruptly when he saw me. His face paled, and he said, "Bloody hell! What did you do to your hair?"
I giggled and twisted a lock of my dark hair, newly streaked with red, around my finger. "Whaat?" I asked innocently. "You no like, Daddy?"
"It wasn't my idea," Claire said nervously. "Moira said she liked how my hair was and decided to get hers streaked. I had nothing to do with it!" I smirked at Claire. Her hair was long, pale blonde, and streaked with blue.
"I'm not blaming you, Claire," Dad said, staring at me with wide green eyes. "It's just…good God, Moira…"
"What's all the commotion down here?" My mom could be heard hopping down the stairs in the kitchen and making her way to the living room. "Whoa," she said, seeing me. She didn't look as surprised as Dad, and there was a sparkle of admiration in her dark hazel eyes, identical to mine. "Well what do we have here?"
I sniffed towards my dad. "Maybe Mom will appreciate my artistic insight." I looked towards my mom. "You do like it, don't you?"
Mom wore a half-smile on her face. "Huh. I'm having Raven Meltzer flashbacks."
Claire and I looked at each other. "…Who?"
Mom just shook her head, saying, "No one, forget it." She ran her fingers through her hair and asked, "So are you staying for dinner, Claire? You're more than welcome to."
"Come on," I said in a convincing tone of voice. "We're having chicken Morgan."
Claire stayed with us for dinner, and after that Claire and I flopped down on the couch and began watching my DVD copy of Ice Age. Soon Claire's rainbow-haired sister, Jamie, arrived to pick her up, and we roped her into watching the rest of the movie with us. Jamie did endless Scrat impressions, which made Claire and I fall over each other, laughing. It was well into the night by the time they left. Jamie and Claire were my closest friends, even though we'd only started to hang out a few weeks ago. I'd gone from outcast to the center of their circle of friends in the blink of an eye. And it felt really nice to finally be accepted, to have a normal life.
Or at least as normal as the daughter of the Woodbane Princess of Belwicket can get.
* * *
"So I'll see you next period?" Claire was standing next to my locker while I put my first half of the day's books in and taking out the second half books.
"Yeah," I told her. "See you in Global." Ever since my new social butterfly status had formed, I'd spent all of my lunch period hanging out with my new friends—my new coven, actually. It was always fun, but I'd since then realized how much I actually missed the time alone I had. So today I told Claire that I had to study in the library for an upcoming test.
As I walked down the hall, I saw Courtney Hartford staring at me. I grinned; my hair was up in a ponytail, but the red streaks were very visible and people had been staring at me all day. Courtney had also been acting really humble ever since Rusty had excluded her, Miss Popular Cheerleader, from the party he'd invited me to. What she didn't know was that it ended up being the other partygoers asking me to form a coven with them. I have a feeling that that would change Courtney's view on things.
"Hey, Courtney," I called to her. We'd been friends in the past, but Courtney swore that I was a freak of nature the day I made her Barbie fly. Courtney just stared at me with wide clear-blue eyes. I was used to that kind of response.
Once I got up to the library, I plunked my red backpack on one of the tables and took a chunk of crystal out of one of the outer pockets. The crystal had sat on my mother's dresser forever, and I didn't know what kind of crystal it was. It seemed to change color every time I looked at it, sort of like it was a mood ring or something. Not knowing what kind of crystal it was had been slowly driving me crazy for some time now, so I snatched it off my mom's dresser and brought it to school so I could do some work on it.
I held the chunk of crystal in my hands and focused on it. Blood witches have the ability to actually "feel" a certain thing's identity. The crystal wasn't giving me a clear answer to this vibe test. My first impression was quartz, but somehow I knew this was wrong. I concentrated on the crystal, trying to feel its identity. I finally came up with beryl, but beryl was usually aquamarine. This crystal changed colors.
I sent some of my own energy into it, practically begging it to show itself to me. Tell me what you are. Show me.
Slowly an image began to form inside the crystal. My stomach churned a moment; I'd recently had a bad experience with hearing a deceased relative's voice inside my head. It turned out that Uncle Cal wasn't the most emotionally stable person there ever was, and it had nearly cost me my life. I wasn't too welcoming to the unknown now.
I saw the face of a teenage boy—Oh no, not another one—and saw that he looked pretty cute. I could tell his hair was just long enough to really run your fingers through. His smile could easily melt rock-solid chocolate, and my stomach felt strange. But what did this mean?
"Hey." I looked up and nearly fell off my chair and screamed, because standing in front of me was the boy I'd just seen in the crystal.
I stared at him, open-mouthed. His hair was dirty blonde, and sort of swept across his forehead in this messy-but-neat way. He had this small smile on his face, and his eyes…his eyes were like my father's: light green and just…endless. Endless pools of sparkly green light. In case you hadn't noticed, most of my coherent thoughts had fled.
"Uh…hello?" The kid waved a hand in front of my face. "Are you okay?" I opened my mouth to speak, but instead this weird squeak came out of my mouth. Oh, you're a brilliant conversationalist, Moira, you really are, I berated myself. The kid kind of smiled. "Did I scare you or something? Because you're staring at me all weird."
Well, there is the fact that I just saw you in a crystal, I thought to myself. And then there's the fact that you are the hottest thing to walk the earth. I finally found my voice and said, "No. I mean, yes. I mean, I was really concentrating on…something…"
He raised his eyebrows at me. "You were staring at a rock."
"It's…for science." I had to look away for a second; this growing desire to jump on the kid was getting to be like a monkey screeching on my back. "So, you must be new here. I haven't seen you around." I would have definitely remembered you, I added in my mind.
"Yeah, I just moved here," he told me. "My name's Jordan. Jordan O'Brien."
"Hi," I said. "I'm Moira Riordan-Niall." Yuck. I hated my name. Hate, hate, hate…
"Moira," he repeated. "That's pretty."
My name was the best name in the entire world. "Thanks. Jordan's a pretty name, too. Well, I mean, not pretty, since you're a guy, but…it's nice." Why didn't I just get the words "SOCIALLY INEPT" tattooed on my forehead?
Jordan just grinned. "Well thanks. I'm quite fond of it myself." He slid into the seat across from me. "Nice hair."
I grinned. "My pride and joy. Dad was so excited when he saw it." Jordan leaned his head back and laughed as I imitated my father's reaction from the day before. "My mom was more cool about it."
"That's cool," Jordan said. He drummed his fingers on the table for a minute, looking at me, into my eyes. I looked down and away, then flicked my eyes back up to him. He was still staring.
"So," I said, trying to get a conversation going.
"That's a pretty necklace," Jordan said, and my stomach lurched. I clasped my hand around the small, delicate silver pentacle that hung on a silver chain around my neck. I couldn't tell if he knew that it was a symbol of my belief in Wicca, the proof that I was a witch. He seemed clueless of the significance.
"Um, thanks."
"What is it, from Tiffany's?"
I snorted, trying to picture Tiffany & Co. carrying Wiccan paraphernalia. "No, not exactly."
"Oh." Jordan kept looking at my necklace, and it gave me the chills. I nonchalantly slipped the chain under my shirt, and said, "So, where did you come here from?"
"Long Island," he told me.
"Oh, cool," I said. "My aunt Mary K. lives on Long Island, on the north shore."
"Ah. I lived on the south shore, with my Grams."
"Oh." I shifted uncomfortably, and asked, "Are your parents…"
"Yeah," he said quietly. "They died when I was a baby. Car accident."
"I'm sorry." There was a silence where we just looked at each other. Then the bell rang, signaling the end of the period. We stood up, gathering our things. I noticed that Jordan was slightly taller than me.
"Well, it was nice meeting you, Moira," Jordan said, looking into my eyes again. My knees nearly buckled, and I held onto the back of the chair for support.
"Bye, Jordan," I said, watching him walk out of the room. "Whoa," I whispered to myself. I could already tell that Jordan O'Brien was one of a kind.
* * *
The rest of my day was spent thinking about Jordan. I'm not usually the type of girl to get all crazy about a cute boy, but something about Jordan got me completely hooked. How he seemed so interested in my necklace, though he had no idea about its significance. How his eyes seemed to penetrate mine, and it was like he was seeing much more than just a skinny fourteen-year-old girl. And especially how I'd seen his image in my mother's crystal.
In Global studies, Mr. Crandon was teaching us about ancient China, and my mind was completely tuned out of the lesson. I sit in the last seat in the middle row, and I had my head leaning against the window sill behind me, staring up at the ceiling and thinking, Jordan, Jordan, Jordan…
"Moira?" Mr. Crandon tried to get my attention. "Could you answer my question?"
"Jordan," I murmured, still staring up at the ceiling in my own little world.
"All right, you heard her: The main export of ancient China was Jordan." My head snapped up at the sound of laughter, and I was jerked back to reality. Mr. Crandon had an amused smile on his face. "Okay, Moira, I'll give you another chance to answer the question correctly."
"…Silk?" I tried. I was aware of Claire giving me these weird looks.
He nodded. "Good. Now can you please try to stay with us?" I nodded, my face burning with embarrassment. I'd been caught zoning out in class, because I was thinking about a boy. This was pathetic. I forced myself to focus on the lesson.
At the end of class, Claire grabbed my arm. "Okay, who's Jordan?"
I just blinked at her. I couldn't sum up everything that happened in the library in four minutes. "I'll tell you later," I promised her over my shoulder, running to my next class.
After school, Claire was waiting by my locker. As we walked out of the school together, I told her about my mom's crystal, what I'd seen inside it, and my conversation with Jordan. "And he's just so friggen gorgeous," I was saying as we sat down on a bench outside the school. "He was staring at me in this really weird way, and I made a total idiot of myself because I have no social skills, and I don't think he'll ever talk to me again but I can't stop thinking about him." I realized I'd been babbling, and quickly shut up.
Claire considered this. "Sounds pretty interesting—and creepy. Don't you ever have a normal day?" Claire was the only one of my friends who I'd told about my Cal problem, and so far the only person I planned on telling about seeing Jordan in the crystal. I had complete trust in her when it came to my weird witch life, and she often had good advice.
"Apparently not." I thought about Jordan a little more, and ended up with a goofy smile on my face. "Ah, I can't stop thinking about him. He's just so…perfect."
Claire snorted. "You met him a few hours ago. Chill out, would you?"
"Who are you guys talking about?" Arianna Waters asked, walking up to us. She's a year older than Claire and I, and another member of our coven.
"The new kid," I told her. "Jordan O'Brien."
"Oh, he's in some of my classes," Arianna told us, dropping her backpack on the ground next to the bench.
"Mrs. O'Brien over here can't stop talking about him," Claire smirked, and I shoved her lightly.
Arianna grinned. "You're not the only one. I suspect the pep squad will be creating a cheer for him any day now."
"Really?" My face fell. Witch or not, there was no way I could compete with cheerleaders.
"Yeah." Arianna looked around and said, "There he is now," pointing him out.
My breath caught in my chest as I sought him out with my eyes. Unattainable or not, he was a sight to see.
Beside me Claire snorted. "That's the almighty Jordan O'Brien?"
"Yeah! What, you don't think he's cute?" I asked her.
"No."
"…There's something wrong with you."
"Au contraire, ma copine," Claire said, showing off her French skills.
"Why don't you call him over?" Arianna asked me.
I gave her a wide-eyed stare. "Me? Call him over here? Are you nuts?"
"What? You're not scared, are you?" Arianna's aqua-blue eyes gleamed as she smirked at me.
My eyes slightly narrowed. "I'm not scared. I just don't want to make a complete spaz of myself." We had a staring contest for a few minutes, then I said, "Fine." I stood up to look for Jordan again. When I spotted him, I yelled, "Jordan!"
He looked up from where he was standing, and smiled when he saw me. I waved him over and sat back down on the bench. "Hey, Moira," Jordan said when he came over.
"Hey," I replied, smiling. "These are my friends, Claire D'Alessio and Arianna Waters."
"Hi," they said politely, and Arianna added, "We have science and English together, right?"
Jordan nodded. "Nice to meet you guys." Then his eyes floated back to me. I didn't get why he was always staring at me. I mean, Claire looked like a fairytale princess gone punk, and Arianna was wearing fishnets on her arms. What was so special about me? I met his gaze and just held it for a few minutes.
"So," I said. "How was your first day?"
"It was good," Jordan said. "This place seems cool." I silently wondered how long it would take him before he found out from someone that I was a witch, and about all the freaky stuff that happened at Widow's Vale High School because of me.
"So, a bunch of us are getting together on Saturday at Moira's house," Arianna told him. "Wanna come?"
Apparently not long.
I tried not to glare at Arianna so noticeably as I thought, These aren't just hang out sessions. These are Wiccan circles, and you cannot just ask the hot new kid if he wants to join us for a Wiccan circle!
"That sounds great," Jordan said. "I'll be there. That is, if Moira wants me to come," he added, looking over at me.
"Oh! Sure! That would be great! I'd love if you could come," I told him, forcing a big smile. I tried to convince myself that it would all work out, that the first boy I'd ever fallen for wouldn't be permanently terrified of me when he finds out he's been invited to a witch fest.
Jordan smiled at me. "Cool. So I'll see you tomorrow? I have to go soon so Grams doesn't worry." He grinned wryly. "You know how grandmothers are." He walked away, passing Jamie as he left. Jamie checked him out as he went by.
"Wow," Jamie said, watching Jordan leave. "Who bagged the cutie?"
"Moira," Arianna and Claire said.
"I did not bag him," I protested.
"I can't believe you think he's cute, too," Claire told her, ignoring me.
"Of course he's cute!" Jamie told her. "He's gorgeous!"
"Is not!" Claire said with disgust.
Jamie just stared at her younger sister. "Sometimes I wonder how we could be sisters."
"As do I, Scrat," Claire replied, indicating Jamie's rainbow hair. I started giggling uncontrollably, and we walked to Jamie's car laughing. We drove to Arianna's house, and I spent the whole car ride thinking about Jordan O'Brien.
And about why I saw him in the crystal.