Part 7 (1/2)

4:32 a.m.

Hi, Scotty.”

Scott gave a start as he entered his bedroom and fumbled to turn on the light. He saw Becka sitting at his desk in the dark. ”What are you doing here?” he asked in surprise.

”My room was getting a little crowded for sleeping.”

”What?”

”Never mind. Where have you been? It's 4:30 in the morning.”

Scott was exhausted. It had been quite a night ... and morning. First there was that little field trip through the Hawthorne mansion, then the visit to the Bookshop. And finally, for the past few hours he'd been working with Hubert as they dreamed up false info for the Ascension Lady's astrology charts.

”Where have I been?” he echoed. ”Let's just say your friend at the bookstore will have a brand-new look the next time you see her.”

”My friend ... the Ascension Lady? You've done something to the Ascension Lady?”

”Not me.” He smirked. ”She'll be doing it to herself. It's all in the stars ... and her computer.” He pulled off his jacket and tossed it on the growing pile of clothes in the corner.

”What did you do?” she asked.

He waved her off. ”It's a long story, but the lady will definitely be sporting a new 'do the next time you see her.” He gave a long, noisy yawn. ”Right now I'm bushed.” He started peeling off his T-s.h.i.+rt.

Becka had been sitting there for almost an hour trying to think what she should say when he came back. Should she tell him more about her growing doubts? What about the experience in her room? What about her decision to visit the Ascension Lady to try and warn her?

It looked as though she had just wasted her time. Scotty, with his usual male egocentrism, wasn't interested in anything but his own accomplishments ... and, of course, sleep. She got up and started for the door.

He gave another yawn. ”What were you saying about your room?”

”Forget it,” she answered. She would say nothing more. At least for now. If he was lucky, maybe she'd leave a note on the table, letting him know she'd be at the Bookshop. But as far as anything else, it looked like she'd have to work things out on her own.

”Hey, Beck?”

She stopped in the doorway and turned.

”So what's the deal? Are you going to that seance tomorrow?”

She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. ”I don't know, Scotty.”

2:10 p.m.

Becka stood outside the Ascension Bookshop. The sign on the door read Closed for Lunch. She peered through the posters and stickers plastered over the window and saw someone rummaging around inside.

”I hope I'm doing the right thing,” she sighed as she reached out and rapped on the door. She waited, folding her arms against the cold ... not the cold of the morning, or even the cold of fear.

But the cold of gnawing uncertainty.

She ran through it all again. Was the little girl a demon or Juanita's ghost? The Bible said there are no ghosts. Okay, fine.

If that was true, then why was the girl Becka had seen the same age as Juanita? Why did she look like Juanita would have looked?

Why did she speak Spanish like Juanita surely must have done?

Then there was the question about a Chris tian's ”spiritual authority” ... all that stuff in the Bible about beating the devil.

Why wasn't it working for Scotty? Why wasn't it working for her?

Finally, there was the love question. Granted, Juanita wasn't exactly the most likable being, but even in her dream Becka was pretty sure the kid was acting more out of fear and confusion than meanness. And the Ascension Lady was the only one trying to help. Not Becka, not Scott. Only the Ascension Lady was reaching out in love.

That's how Becka saw it, anyway. And that's why she was there. She had to warn the Ascension Lady. No matter how much the woman wanted to help Juanita, who knew what would happen to her if she went through with tonight's seance?

Becka heard the bolt unlock. Then the door to the Bookshop swung open. But it was not the Ascension Lady who greeted her. Or was it?

Instead of the long salt-and-pepper hair, this woman had a closely shaved buzz. And it was tinted red. But that was nothing compared to her breath. A wave of garlic stung Becka's nose, making her eyes instantly water.

The woman broke into a smile. It was the Ascension Lady's smile. And those were her eyes - those same sad, frightened eyes. ”Rebecca, please come in.” She opened the door wider, and Becka stepped inside.

The Bookshop was not at all what she had expected. Instead of dark, foreboding shelves covered in spiderwebs, and a handful of witches standing around stirring cauldrons, this place was bright and cheery. Suns.h.i.+ne poured through overhead skylights.

The floor was covered in aqua blue carpeting, the shelves were white and inviting, and the books they held looked friendly and colorful.

”Sorry about my breath,” the Ascension Lady laughed as she shut the door. ”It's all part of my new ident.i.ty.”

”Ident.i.ty?” Becka said, trying to blink back the tears.

The woman nodded. ”After our rendezvous last night, I realized I had better change my ident.i.ty.”

”Rendezvous?”

”Yes, our little get-together in your room.” Becka's heart skipped a beat. ”You were there? You saw what happened?”

”Of course I was there. Didn't you see me?” Becka was stunned. ”But I thought ... I mean ...”

”You thought it was a dream?”

Becka nodded.

The Ascension Lady smiled. ”I was astral projecting - leaving my body while I slept. It's not an uncommon practice, not for those of us involved in the deeper secrets of New Age. In a sense, I suppose you could say I was dreaming too. But not really.”

”So ... you saw what happened?”

”Oh yes - ” the Ascension Lady smiled and rubbed her abdo-men - ”and felt it.”

Becka could only stare.

The woman crossed toward the counter. ”It was all symbolic, of course. But it made clear to me the drastic actions that had to be taken for tonight.”