Sparrow Hill Road 2010 By Seanan(56)

There's a reason that I'm not happy when I open my eyes to find myself tied to a chair, and it's not just because she didn't buy me dinner first.

Just on the off chance that it's past midnight, I try letting go of the strings tying me to the wrap Bethany so "charitably" provided. Nothing happens. It's still prom night in Buckley, and that means I'm anchored here, whether or not I want to be. "Fuck," I mutter.

"Language," says Bethany sweetly, stepping around the corner, into view. She's still wearing the T-shirt and jeans she had on when she picked me up. Why didn't that strike me as strange? Decorating committee or not, she should have at least had her foundation makeup on, should have done something with her hair. "This is a place of learning, Auntie Rose. Mind your tongue, or you'll wind up getting detention."

"When I was a student here, we knew enough to mind our elders," I snap. "Untie me right now and I might be able to write this off as a funny, funny prank."

"You're not my elder tonight, Aunt Rose. You were sixteen when you died, and I'm seventeen now. I'm an upperclassman." Her smile isn't nearly as chilling as the six girls who come walking up behind her, each of them carrying a candle in one hand, and a silver carving knife in the other. "I really thought you'd be more of a challenge than this."

"Did someone contact all the crazy bitches of the world and say I was in the market for a good fucking-over?" I demand. "First Laura, now you—God! Can't you people just leave me the hell alone?"

"To be fair, I got the idea when I heard what Miss Moorhead had managed to do. I mean, catching a hitcher? That's not easy, not even when you know the things that call them. Things like the story of their death...and the fact that they almost always have a thing for haunting family." Bethany reaches up and tugs one of the ribbons free of her hair. "You were so set on chasing the things that bind you that you didn't even notice that this wasn't a real dance."

"Like anybody decorates the gym anymore?" asks one of the other students, wrinkling her nose. "Ew. That's what the community center is for."

"Vicky?" says Bethany, in a voice like honey.

"Yeah?"

"Don't talk." Bethany keeps her eyes on me. "There's a bounty on your head, Auntie Rose, and the man who wants you—you have no idea how much he's willing to pay. I won't ever have to worry about anything ever again. Not me, not my mother, not even Grandpa. We'll be set for life."

"And all you have to do is kill me," I say, bitterly. Maybe I didn't see that the prom was a decoy, but I was distracted, and I've never encountered anything like this before. "So what do the rest of them get out of the deal? Cash on the barrel? Bragging rights? What?"

"Your terminology sucks. I can't kill you. You've been dead since before my father was born. All I'm doing is handing you over to someone who has a purpose for you. As for what my friends get...there's not much for any of us in this podunk little town. We're getting out."

"By making deals with Bobby Cross?" There it is: there's the name, hanging out in air between us like roadkill, like something dead and rotten and stinking. "You should know better. Arthur should have taught you better."

"How? He never knew what happened to you. No one ever knew, not until the night the asphalt up on Sparrow Hill started talking to me, started telling me all about it. I think I was supposed to sympathize with you. But Bobby..." Her eyes go distant, star-struck. "He knew what he wanted, and he found a way to get it. I respect that in a man."

I stare at her, disgusted and aghast. "Please tell me you're not hot for Bobby Cross." When she doesn't answer, I gag, only exaggerating a little. "He's a monster! He sold his soul!"

"But he got what he wanted, didn't he?" She smiles again, brightly. "And so will I. Bobby's on his way here now. He's coming to collect his payment, and then he'll take us all to the crossroads, and show us how to make his bargain."

"You can't. You need..." Apple said the King of the Routewitches went with Bobby to make his first bargain. If I'm what they stuff into the gas tank, and Bethany is in the car—blood of my blood, a powerful charm on the ghostroads—they might just make it. "You can't. Your Queen gave me Persephone's blessing."

"I heard about that." She reaches into her pocket, produces a Swiss army knife. It looks very sharp when she clicks it open. "Funny thing: Persephone's blessing can only protect you against people who are sworn to the dead. Living routewitches, and high school students who haven't had a chance to make their bargains yet? We don't count."