Life's A Witch

Chapter Six

I knew this wasn't what Jinx wanted to hear, but the wheels in my head were already spinning and I didn't have time to console her. I had to find out what was going on. Still, I felt bad about leaving her feeling so helpless.

"We're going to figure this out. I promise," I said before hanging up and heading to my room to find the others' numbers.

First I called Sascha. And then Jasmine. When I'd gone through my entire witchy address book, I finally dialed Fallon's number, not even bothering with pleasantries. As I hung up, I collapsed back onto my bed, eyes wide and feeling eerily numb. If I hadn't been positive that I was awake, I would've thought I was having a nightmare. But there was no doubt this was really happening.

No one had heard from any of our parents in over a day and the sinking feeling was steadily growing in the pit of my stomach.

I stared up at the ceiling, noticing for the first time that there was a discoloration right above my head in the shape of a turkey. Like the kind of turkey you made in first grade by outlining your hand. How had I never noticed that before?

I blinked. I had to snap out of it.

Picking up the phone again, I dialed the only number I hadn't called yet. And I didn't have to wait long for someone to answer.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Peter said before I could even say hello.

"Something's definitely going on," I answered, unwilling to confirm what I thought he was saying. Before I went overboard with conspiracy theories, I had to assess things for myself. And Peter might be the only one who had the clues I needed. "The Cleri held an emergency meeting last night. You know anything about it?"

"Your mom was over here for a little bit with a few of the others, and they were talking about getting the group together. They thought I wasn't listening, but I was," he said, sounding slightly guilty.

"That's great, Peter," I said, encouragingly. "Did you hear where they were going?"

My pulse was racing. If Peter didn't know this, we really had no leads. And my fear was that time was already running out for our parents.

"They said something about trees or bushes," he said.

"They met in a park?" I asked, confused.

"No, it was like a type of tree, I think," he said slowly. "Name some trees and maybe something will sound familiar."

Thank God I aced my environmental science class freshman year. "Fir. Maple. Spruce. Evergreen. Elm. Pine—"

"Elm! It was the Elm. Or maybe Elm Street. No, it was definitely the Elm. They didn't say where it was exactly, but it seemed like it was kind of close to here."

I pumped my arms in the air in victory. Then I remembered that I was alone in my room, and I let them drop back down to my sides. I could celebrate later, when I'd found our parents. The important thing was that we had a name of the last place the Cleri was before . . . well, before they never came home.

But I couldn't think about that right now. I had to keep my focus on the job at hand. "Peter, you're amazing," I said happily. "And if you weren't total jailbait, I'd definitely kiss you for this."

I hopped off the bed and scurried over to my computer, quickly typing in "The Elm" and the city Peter lived in as well as the surrounding areas. I had no idea what I was looking for: a restaurant, a hotel, a church. It could be just about anything.

My heart sank when only a few listings popped up. One was for a dance club about an hour away. The second for a diner right off Highway 64. And the last appeared to be a warehouse that stored construction equipment. None of them sounded like places where the Cleri would meet.