Possessions by Nancy Holder Page B

at him. I looked past him to the door. Something was wrong. I could feel it. I knew it.
    “I smell smoke,” I insisted.
    “Okay, let’s go see.” He was humoring me. He walked through the door and started down some stone stairs. The gothy music grew louder; someone hit a sour note and I realized it was live. The hum of conversation grew louder. And the smells became more powerful. Troy looked at me over his shoulder as if to say, “ See? There’s nothing to worry about .”
    I could barely make out his features, and I knew he couldn’t see mine. He couldn’t see that I was sweaty and terrified.
    The stairs led to a brick floor. He turned and waited for me, but he didn’t take my hand again. He hung a left.
    We were staring into low dark room, lit with oil lamps and candles, dotted with antique tables and round-backed chairs that looked too nice to be operating theater relics. I saw Julie standing with Mandy and the others around a high table with a tile center. About twenty feet beyond them, two girls were playing violins and a boy with long blond hair was sawing at a beautiful cello. I looked at the instrument with longing, recalling my five years of lessons and recitals.
    Julie was drinking from what looked to be a whiskey bottle, and Mandy the witch-ho and the others were dancing to the music as they clapped and cheered her on. Mandy faced me; Lara and Kiyoko gyrated with their backs to me. Shaking her hips, Alis was feeding Sangeeta what appeared to be a Jell-O shot in a little plastic cup.
    I headed straight for them. To my surprise, Troy stayed with me.
    Mandy was the first to notice us, and her face broke into a huge smile. I tempered my smile; I wasn’t pleased to see her, especially not when she was encouraging my fifteen-year-old roommate to get drunk.
    Like you were so innocent last year , I reminded myself.
    “Well,” I said to Troy, but he scooted ahead of me. Mandy struck a pose, thrusting out her hip and placing her right hand on it and her left hand behind her head. Then she let her head fall back as he gathered her up, bending her backward until her hat fell off, and kissed her hard on the lips.
    Oh, crap.
    So that was Troy’s girlfriend. Queen Mandy.
    I ignored Mandy and Troy as best I could and headed for Julie.
    I walked straight up to her. She flushed and started to set her bottle on the table, then picked it up again as if to underscore the fact that I was not the boss of her.
    I took that in and moved on to Lara, who was undulating her arms like snakes.
    And what I saw . . . I didn’t know what I saw. Lara’s eyes were black.
    And so were Alis’s, and Sangeeta’s. And Kiyoko’s, as they danced. Their beat was off—all of them, out of time with the music . . . as if they were hearing other music . . .
    Then Lara caught her breath, jerked her head, and stood statue still. She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were her usual brilliant green. She began to dance again, this time to the beat.
    I ticked my attention to Kiyoko, who was swaying easily, back and forth. Her eyes were normal, too.
    “Stop, I can’t breathe,” Mandy squealed.
    “She can’t breathe. Call the doctor,” Troy yelled. He hadn’t seemed to notice the weird eyes, but he was playing along with Mandy’s theatricals. He was probably used to it. I wondered briefly how long they’d been together.
    As they straightened back up, he lifted up his stethoscope. “Oh, wait, I am the doctor.” He placed the metal circle at the curving top of her bustier.
    “That thing is cold,” she told him with a sexy scowl.
    “I’ll warm it up.” He took it back and blew on it, then rubbed it between his fingers and placed it on her chest again. “There, let’s see . . . ach, nein, you don’t gotta heartbeat . . . Oh, whoops.”
    He laughed and stuck the earpieces in his ears. “Wow, Manz, I really can hear your heartbeat. It’s very fast.”
    The room was swaying. I felt something closing in on me, the room