Read Vengeance for Free Online Page B

though Genevieve didn’t tell me to sit in front of a mirror while doing the spell, it felt right. Then I went over to my desk to get a small piece of paper from my notepad, a pen, and a matchbook I’d taken from a Chinese restaurant a few years ago.
    The red mask I’d worn to the Halloween dance was on the floor where I’d left it that morning. It was a beautiful mask, a swirled pattern in a mix of red and gold, continuing up over my forehead in leaf-like shapes with sparkling white gems. I held it up to my face and looked in the mirror. I had turned the overhead light off in my room so only the lamps were on, and in the dim lighting with the mask covering the top half of my face, I looked like the type of person who would do a strange spell in the middle of the night on the full moon.
    I looked powerful—in control of my destiny.
    I put the mask back on my desk and sat cross-legged on the carpet, studying the items in front of me. Genevieve said the first thing I had to do was drink the potion. I lifted the vial and held it up until it was right in front of my face, studying it. This was the part I was most hesitant about . Who knew what she put in there? For all I knew, it was her blood.
    I shivered at the thought. 
    Not wanting to work myself up over ridiculous ideas, I uncapped the vial and held it up to my nose. It didn’t smell bad. It had no smell at all. For all I knew, it was water with red dye in it. I held it up to my lips and took a sip to prepare myself before drinking the whole thing. It had a tangy taste, and it made the tip of my tongue tingle. I swallowed, and it felt warm and soothing as it slid down my throat. The taste reminded me of Scotch—one of the guys I dated last year stole some from his dad’s liquor cabinet and insisted I try some—but the difference was this wasn’t quite as strong, and it didn’t have the intense flavor of alcohol.
    After the first sip, I finished the rest in one gulp. Suddenly my body was on fire. The heat coursed out of my chest and pumped through every vein in my nervous system. My cheeks flushed, and I felt like I had in fifth grade when I got the flu with a 105-degree fever. I closed my eyes and held my breath for a few seconds, unsure of what to do. Luckily the heat subsided in less than a minute, turning into an ebbing warmth that filled my body.
    It would have been nice if Genevieve had warned me about that beforehand.
    I put the cap back on the now-empty vial and placed it next to me. One step down, a bunch more to go.
    It took me two tries to get the match to light. Once lit, the candle let off a calming, raspberry smell. Then, using the silver Tiffany pen my dad got me for my birthday last year, I wrote on the piece of paper, making sure it was exactly how Genevieve phrased it:
    I wish that everything in this life between me, Drew, and Lizzie will end up the same way it did in our past life.
    The words flowed out of me easily, and I stared at the paper after I’d finished writing the sentence, making sure I got it right. I wanted more than anything for this to work. To set things straight again, and make them the way they were supposed to be. The way they would have been if Lizzie hadn’t stolen my boyfriend and messed up my entire life.
    I placed the pen down and picked up the paper, reading it again before closing my eyes. Now I was supposed to remember everything Genevieve helped me see earlier today.
    The flashes returned to me easily. The first one of the elegant ballroom, of the way Drew looked at me, as though I was the only person in the world. Him holding me close while we danced that night, in the center of the crowd as if we owned the room, the string orchestra seeming to be playing just for us. The two of us walking through the garden as he confided in me about something important. Then I saw the memory of the two of us in the old church, our families and friends gathered in the pews as they watched us on the altar. This memory didn’t feel