You May Now Kill the Bride (Return to Fear Street Book 1)

“I helped Grandpa Bud back to the lodge,” Robby told me. “He wasn’t hurt or anything, but he said his heart was beating like crazy. He said thank goodness he remembered his pills.”

I tsk-tsked. “Did you see Dad trying to pull that squirrel from Mrs. Falkner’s hair? She was hysterical. It wouldn’t come off.”

“One of Doug’s friends sprained his ankle trying to get back here,” Robby said. “I guess we’re lucky more people weren’t hurt.”

We were in my room, still a little breathless after our escape from the squirrel stampede on the mesa. I sprawled on the plum-colored bedspread. Robby sat hunched in the armchair across from me. His hair was damp and matted to his forehead. He had scratches on one arm from an attacking squirrel.

“It was like a nightmare,” he said.

“A true horror show,” I said, puffing up the pillow behind my head. “You know, Dad told me this place is cursed. He said he begged Marissa to have her wedding at home.”

Robby snickered. “Like Marissa would ever listen to him.”

“Maybe she should have,” I replied. “I mean, first Uncle Kenny is choking on feathers. Then—”

A hard knock on the door made me sit up. I glanced at Robby. “Who is that?”

“Only one way to find out,” he said. He was tumbling his phone in his hand. I could see he was dying to call Nikki and tell her the latest.

I pulled open the door. Grandpa Bud stood there with his hand raised, about to knock again. I saw he had changed into baggy khakis and a red-and-black lumberjack shirt.

His cheeks were pink, and his eyes looked tired. He studied me for a few seconds and didn’t smile. “Harmony, can I come in?”

“Of course,” I said, pulling open the door and stepping back.

Behind me, Robby scampered to his feet. “Grandpa Bud, are you okay?”

Bud didn’t answer. He shuffled across the room toward the armchair.

“Crazy out there,” Robby said. “It’s like . . . it couldn’t happen, right?”

Grandpa Bud didn’t sit down. He turned at the chair and pointed a finger at me. “I know what you did,” he said softly.

I wasn’t sure I’d heard him correctly. “Excuse me?”

“Don’t play innocent, Harmony,” he said, his voice stronger now. “I know what you did.”

Robby put a hand on Bud’s shoulder. “Want to sit down?”

Bud obliged. He perched on the edge of the chair and kept his eyes on me. I could feel my face going hot and I knew I was blushing.

“Harmony, do you think I don’t know those spells?” he asked.

Robby shook his head. “Spells?”

“The feathers,” Bud said. “The squirrel invasion. Harmony, I can do those in my sleep.”

My heart was pounding now. My muscles all went tense. I leaned back against the pine dresser and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“I can tell you which of the old books those spells come from,” Bud said. “I’ve even done that feather gag myself.”

My brother’s face was twisted in total confusion. “You mean—?”

“Did you forget I’m a Fear? I’m eighty-six years old. I’ve had a lot of years to practice the family magic.” He coughed, then muttered, “Some would call it sorcery. I believe that’s what we are. Sorcerers. By line and by blood.”

I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn’t know what to say. I was caught. Bud nailed it. He was right about me.

He turned to Robby. “And you. Did you have anything to do with this? Are the two of you working together?”

Robby shrugged. “No way. I didn’t even know—”

“Well, how is that possible, Robby? Where were you?” Bud snapped.

“He was probably on the phone with Nikki.” I finally found my voice.

Bud rubbed his chin, his eyes locked on me. “I just have one question for you, Harmony. Are you only having fun? Or are you trying to ruin your sister’s wedding?”

I swallowed. My heart was pounding like crazy. “Uh . . . a little of both,” I finally choked out.

I hadn’t counted on being caught. And the truth was, I didn’t really know why I was causing the mischief. I mean, I have a lot of resentment against Marissa, I admit it. But I didn’t want to totally ruin the wedding. I guess I just wanted to make it . . . more exciting?

All this endless wedding nonsense. . . . All the solemn talk and months of planning. . . . The food . . . the band . . . the minister . . . the rehearsal dinner . . . blah blah blah.

I just had to do something.

Grandpa Bud scooted back in the chair and rested his head against the chair back. “Harmony, you have to be careful here,” he said, rubbing his hands on the arms of the chair. “It’s possible for magic to get out of hand in this place. I mean out of control. Even the simplest spells—”

“I don’t have anything else planned,” I blurted out.

“Even the simplest spells can go in unpredictable directions,” he continued. “This is a cursed place. There is an evil about it that has led to horror and death.”

“I know,” I started. “I read—”

But Grandpa Bud was determined to tell us the story. “It was a wedding here much like this one. With two sisters. Their names were Ruth-Ann and Rebecca. They were Fears, and one of them—the bride—had made a terrible mistake. She had chosen for her groom a young man from the Goode family.”

I settled onto the bed and folded my arms around a pillow held to my chest. Of course Robby and I knew about the Goode family. We knew the families have been enemies for hundreds of years. And we knew there was a curse that a Fear and a Goode could never get together—and live.

I tuned out as Bud continued with the details of the wedding. My mind kept jumping around. I wondered if he would snitch to my parents about what I had done. And, whoa. If Marissa ever found out, she’d never speak to me again.

“Both sisters died on that day,” Bud was saying when I tuned back in. “It was in the early twenties, something like ninety-five years ago. Before I was born. But I grew up hearing my parents talk about it. They were there. They saw everything, all the horror, all the sadness. And that day gave them nightmares for the rest of their lives.”

Robby had been listening intently. I don’t think he knew any of this. Somehow he was never interested enough in our family.

“What happened to the Goodes?” he asked. “We haven’t heard anything about them. I mean, Mom and Dad don’t talk about them. And I never knew anyone named Goode.”

“They haven’t been heard from,” Bud said. “Not since that awful day. Not since that day the bride and her sister died.”

“So they’re gone?” Robby said, twisting his phone in one hand. “Then maybe the curse between our families is over?”

I tossed the pillow aside. “You don’t think there’s a Goode here at our wedding, do you, Grandpa Bud? You don’t think—”

He shook his head. “Believe me, your father did a very thorough background check on Doug and his family. He hired two different firms to investigate them. They’re not Goodes. Not related to them in any way.”

“What about Doug’s family’s guests? And his friends?” Robby asked.

Bud shook his head. “None of them are Goodes. You can be sure of that.”

I sat up. “So then what’s the problem, Grandpa? Okay, so I played a few tricks, had a little fun. Indulged my inner . . . sorceress. I know it was wrong. I know it was a little mean. But there’s no real harm.”

Grandpa Bud narrowed his eyes at me, and his expression turned grim. Suddenly, it appeared that all the color had drained from his face. He was as pale as the window curtains beside his chair.

“If you love your sister, Harmony, you’ll stop this right now. History can repeat itself. Listen to me. I’ve seen it! History can repeat.”

A cold shudder shook my body. Bud’s words rang in my ears. And as he spoke, I had this terrifying picture in my mind. I saw Marissa sailing over the cliff edge, hanging in the air, her arms flailing, her hair flying above her head, her mouth open in a silent scream. And I saw her fall straight down, straight down for miles, straight down—to the rocks below.