Miss Mayhem (Rebel Belle #2)(52)

She was squinting at me now, reaching down to pick up the glasses suspended on a glittery chain around her neck. Once they were on her nose, she settled deeper into the sofa and said, “What, exactly?”

It all spilled out then. All of it. The night of the Homecoming dance, Mr. Hall, killing Dr. DuPont, learning what a Paladin was, David being an Oracle, all the training with Saylor, Blythe, how there hadn’t been an earthquake the night of Cotillion. How that had been me. How Ryan could do magic, and I’d made him do a spell that had wiped everyone’s memory.

When I was done, the living room was very quiet. I’d drained my tea during my confession, but Aunt Jewel hadn’t touched hers. The ice was melting in it now, leaving a dark ring on the coaster in front of her. I could hear the grandfather clock ticking in the main hallway, but that was the only sound.

Aunt Jewel heaved a sigh, and I waited for her to tell me I was insane or to say she was calling my mom.

Instead, she got up and patted my knee. “Come on, baby girl. We’ve got somewhere to go.”





Chapter 26


I FIGURED AUNT JEWEL was taking me home. Or maybe driving me all the way up to the psychiatric hospital in Tuscaloosa.

So when she pulled into the parking lot of the Piggly Wiggly, I was both relieved and confused.

“The grocery store?” I asked as Aunt Jewel attempted to squeeze her massive Cadillac into a teensy parking space.

I winced as one of the side-view mirrors clipped the car next to us, but Aunt Jewel didn’t seem too concerned.

“I think better when I’m shopping, and you have given me a lot to think about.”

I was fairly certain my mouth was hanging open, and I imagined my eyes popping out like something in a cartoon. “Aunt Jewel, I just told you that I have superpowers. That my current boyfriend is an Oracle, and my ex-boyfriend is more or less a wizard. And you want to do a little shopping? I’d hoped you wouldn’t freak out, don’t get me wrong, but I expected some freaking out.”

Heaving a sigh, Aunt Jewel gathered her pocketbook in her arms and faced me. “Harper Jane, I am nearly eighty years old. I have lived through a world war, buried two husbands, and when I was eighteen, I told my parents I was going to a church revival, but I actually spent a weekend in Biloxi with a traveling salesman. In other words, young lady, I understand that weird crap—Lord forgive me—happens. Now get out of the car and stop overthinking things.”

So a few minutes later, I found myself stepping into the overly air-conditioned, overly Muzaked store, trailing behind my aunt.

I pushed the buggy for Aunt Jewel while she scanned the shelves of the Piggly Wiggly, occasionally squinting at the yellow legal pad she’d pulled out of her purse. She had just put a bunch of bananas in a little plastic baggie and laid it in the buggy when she said, “So David can see the future.”

“Shh!” I hissed, glancing around us. This time of day, the Pig was mostly deserted, but I still couldn’t be too careful. “Aunt Jewel, that is a private topic.”

But she tsked at me and lifted her glasses to her nose, the sparkly chain winking in the fluorescent lights. Over the sound system, Whitney Houston wailed about finding the greatest love of all inside herself.

I trailed Aunt Jewel into the coffee and cereal aisle. “Yes,” I said as quietly as I could.

“Hmm.” Aunt Jewel picked up a can of Cream of Wheat. “How far into the future?”

I stopped, startled. Weirdly, I’d never thought of that before. It wasn’t like David was seeing spaceships or intergalactic wars. “I don’t know,” I told her. “We never tried that much, I guess.”

Aunt Jewel took that in with a little nod before adding a package of coffee to her groceries, along with some nondairy creamer. “Okay. Well, how often does he see the future? And is it only his future, or yours, or everyone in the whole wide world’s? Because it seems to me that that would be a lot going on in one brain. I know that Stark boy is bright, but I’m not sure anyone’s mind could handle all that information.”

“That’s exactly what I thought!” I exclaimed, our buggy squeaking to a halt. “But apparently me trying to keep him from seeing too much means that I’m controlling or whatever, and—”

I broke off, aware that Aunt Jewel was watching me. “Oh yeah,” I added, a little sheepishly. “I, uh, I may have done some things to be sure he couldn’t have very strong visions. But it’s only because I was trying to keep him safe, which is supposed to be the whole point of this thing.”

Sighing, Aunt Jewel wrapped her fingers around the edge of the buggy and tugged it out of my grip, wheeling it in front of her. As she took the handle and steered us down the Asian and ethnic food aisle (which contained some ramen and spaghetti sauce), she glanced over at me. “Don’t fret, honey. It seems like you and David have taken on more responsibility than most children should.”

“We’re not children,” I insisted, but Aunt Jewel only laughed.

“Of course you are. You’re barely seventeen, and you still have a whole other year of school to get through. That makes you a child as far as I’m concerned.”

When she turned back to me, her blue eyes were soft and she smiled. “But then you’ll always be my baby, even when you’re forty years old with babies of your own.”