The Power Page 0,57

back, on top of her head, at the nape of her neck. Cassie hadn't been in Faye's bedroom since the night Faye had set a ring of red stones around the crystal skull and released the dark energy that had eventually killed Jeffrey. The room was as opulent and luxurious as ever: the wallpaper patterned with lush jungle orchids, the bed piled with cushions, the stereo system packed with expensive extras. Faye's vampire kittens once again twined sinuously around Cassie's ankles.

But there was a different atmosphere here than before. The red candles were gone from the dresser tops; in their place were stacks of paperwork. On the bedspread along with the cordless phone was a beeper. An appointment book was sitting in front of the mirror, and the clothes strewn carelessly about were of the sultry office-girl kind Faye had taken to wearing.

The room felt - pressured. Type-A lifestyle. More like Portia than Faye.

"I suppose you know that Portia Bainbridge and Sally had me kidnapped two days ago," Cassie said.

Faye shot her an amused glance in the mirror. "And I'm sure you know you only had to open your pretty little mouth and yell, and Daddy would have been right there to help."

Cassie tried not to look as sick as that made her feel. "I don't want his help," she said, swallowing.

Faye shrugged. "Maybe later."

"No, Faye. Not later. I don't ever want to see him again. But if you know about me being kidnapped, you must know what they were after. We've found the Master Tools." Cassie looked at the strange opposite-Faye image in the mirror, and then turned to look the real Faye in the eyes. "They belong to you," she said distinctly. "You're leader of the coven. But the coven is going to fight... Black John."

"You can't even say it, can you? It's not so hard. Daddy. Father. Pops. Whatever you want to call him, I'm sure he won't mind - "

"Will you listen to me, Faye!" Cassie almost shouted. "You're sitting here being fatuous - "

"And she knows big words, too!"

" - while something serious is going on! Something deadly serious. He is going to kill people. That's all he is, Faye, hatred and the desire to kill. I know it; I can feel it in him. And he's taking you for a ride."

Faye's golden eyes narrowed. She looked less amused.

"I've known you for a while now, Faye, and there've been plenty of times when I've hated you. But I never thought I'd see you become somebody's stenographer. You used to make up your own mind about things and you didn't kiss up to anybody. Do you remember how you once asked me if I wanted my epitaph to be 'Here lies Cassie. She was . . . nice'? Well, do you want yours to be 'Here lies Faye. She was a good secretary'?"

One of Faye's hands, with its long fingernails - mauve these days, instead of scarlet - was clenched on the dresser. Her jaw was set, and she was staring hard into her own golden eyes in the mirror.

Cassie's pulse quickened. "When I looked at you I used to see a lion - a sort of black and gold lion. Now I see" - she glanced down at her feet - "a kitten. Some rich guy's kitten."

She waited tensely. Maybe ... just maybe . . . Maybe the bond forged during the candle ceremony would be strong enough, maybe Faye had enough pride, enough independence . . .

Faye's eyes met hers in the mirror. Then Faye shook her head. Her face was closed, her mouth tight.

"I think you know the way out," she said.

The kittens tangled around Cassie's feet as she turned, and she felt the razor-sharp nick of claws.

No, she told them with her mind, and she felt the kittens freeze, ears back. She picked them up, one in each hand, and tossed them onto Faye's bed.

Then she left.

"We have to give her until the ninth," Diana said. "Maybe she'll change her mind."

"'Maybe later,'" Cassie quoted, but there wasn't much hope in her voice.

"We'll wait until the ninth for Sean, too," Adam said.

They made it through the next seven school days without trouble - except among themselves.

At New Salem High, the members of the Club only spoke to each other in public to argue. Laurel's birthday on the first and Sean's birthday on the third of December went uncelebrated, because, according to a distraught Diana, none of them could get along long enough to