Entwined (33 page)

I remove my shoes reluctantly and lean against the pillows on my side of the bed. This bed is ridiculous – it must have been designed for an entire family. A wide gap yawns between Rakwena and me.

“Don’t you know anything about breaking spells on objects?”

Rakwena raises his eyebrows at me. “Do I look like a sorcerer?”

I scowl at him and turn to the TV, but soon my eyelids start to droop and before I know it I’m dozing off. When I open my eyes some time later the TV is still on, the volume low, and the lights are off.

Rakwena’s voice comes out of the darkness. “Connie?”

I turn to face him. “Yes?”

He opens his eyes. They’re burning bright, a layer of blue covering his irises so he looks like some sort of alien. Blue light radiates from his skin.

I sit up, alarmed, and reach out to touch his face. His skin is hot. “What’s wrong with you? What happened?”

“I…” He stares at me hopelessly. “I think…”

“It’s that drink he gave you earlier. It must be!” I climb off the bed and move towards the bathroom. “Let me get you some cold water.”

“No.” He grabs my hand. His grip is so tight it’s almost painful. “Water won’t help. Connie, I’m….” He moves to my side of the bed and swings his legs over the side so they’re touching the floor. He frowns, looking confused, then drops my hand as if it’s diseased. He looks around the room. “We have to get out of here.”

“We’ve already established that that’s impossible,” I remind him. He looks bad. “Rakwena, we have to do something. You look like you’re about to explode. Talk to me – are you upset? Angry? We have to get you back to normal.”

He shakes his head, gets up and walks to the door. “It’s not that. I’m just…” I take a step towards him and he backs away. “Don’t. I’m not myself right now.”

“I can see that.” I frown at him, worried. He seems to be getting worse. “Let me help you. I can calm you down. Just give me your hand.”

“It won’t work.”

“It worked before.”

He licks his lips and glances at the window. “This is different.”

Why is he being so stubborn? What has the Puppetmaster done to him? Is there something in this room that’s setting him off? Was that what the Puppetmaster was talking about when he said he wanted to see if his suspicions were right? Despite Rakwena’s protests, I walk across the room and take his hands in mine. They’re burning up. “Rakwena, look at me. You have to calm down.”

His eyes dart from one place to the other. His body is tense, and he presses himself into the door as if afraid to be near me.

“Look at me!” I let one of his hands go and take his chin in my hands, turning his face towards me. “What’s going on with you?”

His eyes glow with blue fire as he looks at me, and suddenly I feel hot all over. I let go of his hand and his arms move around my waist, pulling me against him. The next thing I know, he’s kissing me.
Kissing me!
And it’s nothing like it was with Thuli. It’s terrifying and overwhelming… and exhilarating. I wind my arms around his neck and press myself against his chest. My head is spinning, my heart is racing, and my whole body feels like it’s been set on fire. His power seeps slowly into my skin. I can taste it on his lips and his tongue, sweet and intoxicating. I feel like I could conquer the world.

And then his hands start moving. One slides under the back of my shirt while the other grabs my leg and pulls it up so my knee is against the door. I pull away instinctively, my mind clearing. His mouth is on my neck and the hand under my shirt inches towards my stomach. I try to push him away, but of course he’s too strong. His chest seems to be made of solid rock.

“Rakwena!”

He raises his head to look at me. His breathing comes faster and he pulls me right up against him so tightly I can hardly breathe. There’s a funny look in his eyes. They’re way too bright, and they’ve gone all black, with a blue tinge. Suddenly all the time we’ve spent together fades away, and we’re back to square one. I’m the girl guys never look at and he’s the freak with the scar.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Let me go!” His eyes slide shut and he buries his head in my chest with a groan while his hands reach for my bra. I start to struggle, adrenalin coursing through my body, panic rising in my throat.

“Stop it!” I scream, beating my fists against his chest. “Rakwena, stop!”

Finally he hears me. He raises his head, his brow furrowed in confusion, then drops me so fast I fall to the floor in a heap. I look up at him. His eyes are wide with horror and guilt. The blue in them has diminished a little, but it’s not completely gone.

“Sorry,” he gasps.

“What’s the matter with you?” I demand, crouching on the floor, afraid he’ll grab me again. “Didn’t you hear me say no?”

“I… I didn’t hear anything,” he whispers. “I thought… I was…” He shakes his head twice, then runs to the window. “We have to get out. We have to get out now.” He pushes against the window, trying to force it open, but nothing happens. “Damn it! I can’t be in here with you. Do you understand? I’m not… myself.”

I remain on the floor. “It’s something in this room, isn’t it? He’s done something to make you like this. Do you know what it is?”

He’s not even listening. He looks around frantically for an escape route then, finding none, he flees to the bathroom. He pulls the key out of the door and flings it onto the bed, then slams the door. “Lock me in.” His voice is muffled through the door.

I get up slowly. “What?”

“Lock me in!” he shouts. “You have to lock me in. Come on, quickly. I should be fine by morning. It’ll wear off, I think…”

I walk to the bed and pick up the key. The panic is gone, but this isn’t my Rakwena, and I don’t know what this blue-eyed stranger is capable of. “There must be something we can do.”

“Just lock the door, Connie!” he bellows. “Now!”

I leap into action and lock the door. “This is stupid. You can break it down.”

“I don’t have the energy.” His voice is calmer now. “Yes, this is better. It’s not so strong now. Move back. Just stay away from the door.”

I sit on the edge of the bed, watching the door. I don’t understand what’s going on. Whatever is making Rakwena act so strangely doesn’t seem to affect me at all. Did the Puppetmaster target Rakwena specifically? But what does he hope to gain? Maybe he’s just the kind of person who would walk into a nuclear power plant and go, “Ooh, I wonder what this button does?”

Rakwena has fallen silent. I don’t think he’s sleeping, but there’s still no light coming from under the door.

“Rakwena?”

If he’s awake, he doesn’t want to talk to me. Usually I’m the one who can calm him down and make the blue light fade, but this time I’m only making things worse. My thoughts flash back to that crazy kiss, and my cheeks burn. I know Rakwena is under some kind of spell – he would never have tried something like that in his right mind. Lebz has been telling me for ages that he’s into me, and sometimes I think she might be right, but I’ve always been secure in the knowledge that he’ll never make a move unless I give him a sign. It’s an unspoken agreement between us. But tonight…

I shake my head and lie back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. I’m not going to lie. The kiss was spectacular, but there are just too many unknowns in this equation. How can I date a guy who keeps so much of himself locked away? Besides, we have a rock-solid friendship, the kind I’ve always wanted. He gets me. And despite his secrets, I trust him to have my back. I’m not prepared to risk that just to satisfy our hormonal impulses.

But now I have to wonder if I’m the only one who feels that way. Maybe what happened just now revealed his true desires. Maybe being locked in a room with a huge bed was too much temptation.

I turn onto my side. I wonder what kind of girls he’s dated, if any. The thought makes my stomach turn. I don’t like the idea of Rakwena with other girls. There aren’t any girls who are even in his league. I don’t want him wasted on some idiot like Kelly.

I turn onto my other side and face the bathroom door. It feels wrong to be separated from him this way, as if he’s a dangerous animal and I’m a helpless victim. I can’t help feeling that if I could just sit with him for a while, I could absorb his power and turn him back into the Rakwena I’m used to. But what if I can’t? What if I unlock the door and he’s completely out of control? He could hurt me without even realising it.

I lie awake for a long time before finally drifting off to sleep.

The light is too bright. I sit up in bed and wince, rubbing my arm. I slept curled up on the bed with my arm under me and the waistband of my jeans digging into my flesh. I can see a glimpse of the sky through the gap in the curtains – it’s morning. I get up and walk to the bathroom.

“Rakwena?”

“Morning.”

I reach out to turn the key. “Is it safe?”

“Ja.” When I open the door I find him slumped against the tub. His eyes are back to brown, and weary. He gets to his feet, sways a little and grabs the wall for support. “I’m fine,” he says, before I can open my mouth. “Just hungry.”

I put my arm around his waist and help him to the bed. “Maybe you need to get some sleep.”

“We have to go.” He sinks onto the edge of the bed. “Try the door.”

I roll my eyes as I make my way to the door. “Do you really think he’d be nice enough to –” The door swings inwards. I stare at it for a second, hardly believing my luck, then peer into the corridor. The house is quiet. I beckon to Rakwena and he follows me into the corridor.

We move slowly, quietly, afraid of waking our host, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone around. The corridor is dark and dusty and the wall-to-wall carpet has been removed. Strange thing to do in the middle of the night.

“Connie.”

I look up and stifle a gasp. We’re standing in the doorway of what used to be the living room. The leather chairs, coffee table, thick rug – gone. The room is bare, the grey, unpainted concrete covered in a coating of dust. The paint is peeling off the walls and cobwebs hang from the ceiling.

My stomach swoops into my shoes. “Oh, crap.”

Rakwena’s fingers close around mine and he leads me back into the corridor. One by one we check the rooms. They’re empty, of course. The last room we enter is the one we’ve just left. My skin prickles as I peer into it from behind Rakwena. The bed is gone, and so is everything else.

“This is freaky,” I whisper, staring into the emptiness.

He doesn’t respond. We head back to the living room, the squeak of our sneakers echoing through the silence, and emerge in the deserted foyer. The piano, the calendar… vanished, like a forgotten dream. Rakwena opens the front door. On the dusty doorstep are our phones and his keys. Amantle’s phone is gone.

“He’s taken the girls.”

Rakwena shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I think he sent them home. But he’s definitely gone.”

I gulp, bending over to pick up our things. “As in gone from the house or gone from the country?”

“What do you think?”

“Crap. Damn it, Rakwena, we were so close!”

“Were we?” He takes his phone and keys from me and pockets them without looking at them. “I don’t know. Maybe we never really had a chance.”

I glance at my phone. I have thirteen missed calls and nineteen messages.

Rakwena looks at me. “Your grandfather?”

I nod. Suddenly I feel like my brain is about to shut down. “But I have to do something first.” I take a deep breath to steady my nerves, then dial my father’s number.

There’s a knock on my bedroom door. I ignore it and turn onto my back, keeping my gaze on the novel in my hands.

“Connie?” Lebz opens the door a crack, then, seeing that I’m awake, lets herself in. She’s carrying one of her oversized handbags. “Your dad is still pissed off. You should have seen the look he gave me when I asked if you could come to my place!” She bounces onto the edge of the bed. “What are you reading?”

“I don’t even know.” I click my tongue, annoyed, and fling the book on the floor. “I’m sick of reading. There’s nothing else to do since he confiscated my movies.”

Lebz whistles. “I didn’t think he meant it, you know?”

That makes two of us. When I got home from the Puppetmaster’s house, it was close to eight in the morning. Dad was waiting at the front door with Ntatemogolo, both of them livid. For the first time ever they were in total agreement. Rakwena and I were frogmarched into the living room and subjected to a long, fierce speech. There was no mention of puppetmasters or magic. We cooked up a story about driving to a party, coming upon some
tsotsis
and getting locked in a storeroom. Dad blamed Rakwena, of course, and Ntatemogolo backed him up. I expected my grandfather to be a little more forgiving, but he seemed thrilled that Dad had finally found his inner hardcore parent. I thought he was going to take off his belt and whip me.

So here I am, a week later, grounded indefinitely with no hope of parole. No movies, no phone, and most importantly, no Rakwena for the rest of the holidays.

I sit up, eager for news. “So what’s going on? Have you talked to Rose?”

Lebz nods. “Emily is fine, Refilwe and Laone are, too. Amantle’s still in hospital. She hasn’t woken up.”

I bite my lip. “And her parents? Do they still think it’s drugs?”

Lebz nodded. “Your grandfather says it’s for the best. The truth is complicated.”

I shake my head. “So the bastard gets away after everything he did?”

“Not quite,” says Lebz, with a smile. She opens her bag and pulls out the latest
GC Chronicle
.

I cringe. “Do I even want to know?”

She shakes the paper out and shows me the front page. The headline shrieks: “Mystery Magician Preys on Youth”. Below the words is a rough sketch of someone who looks a good deal like the Puppetmaster.

“Ntatemogolo went to the press?” I cry, appalled that he would do something so irresponsible.

“Of course not,” says Lebz. “He just started a little rumour. The journalist did the rest. It wasn’t hard to find out about the girls getting sick, and the mysterious traditional doctor. The story makes him out to be a power-hungry paedophile, and there are a whole lot of people who came out claiming they had seen him and he bewitched their children. His name’s even in the story. He’s a wanted criminal now. His face is everywhere!”