“Until you drew their attention.”
She snorted. “Yeah, that was the idea. But usually we work together, occasionally pulling in Bee if the situation calls for it. She’s … reticent, though.”
Bee, aka Tel5, aka Amanda, had the ability to wipe the minds of multiple targets, then wield them like puppets. She had amassed a large body count simply learning to use her powers at the behest of the Collective. As had I. She didn’t have my empathy, but she had never managed to become fully numb to murder either.
“So Chenda caught up to you alone,” I said, “did something to block your magic, then let you go.”
Samantha squared her shoulders indignantly. “I broke out.”
“Bait.” Christopher crossed his arms. His eyes were his natural light gray. “Probably for Bee.”
“But you couldn’t find Bee,” I said.
Samantha looked aghast. “Fuck. I’m fucking bait. I didn’t … I can feel the binding eating into my mind … I …”
“We’re going to take care of it,” I said.
“We?” Christopher echoed mockingly.
Samantha whirled around on her stool. “What the fuck is wrong with you? You think we should just ignore the shit you pulled today?”
He clenched his teeth, tension radiating through his jaw and neck. “I would think you’d try to understand.”
“Don’t be a moron,” Samantha snarled. “What DNA did you think they were using? They’re all arrogant as fuck. The Five are all related to the Collective members. The info we stole from the compound was garbled. I’m still looking for a solid tech to help with a huge chunk we haven’t managed to access yet. But you knew it wasn’t just one egg and one fucking sperm that created each of us.”
“I’m not a moron —”
Samantha waved her hand, cutting the clairvoyant off. “I don’t have the parentage worked out, because there isn’t any parentage to work out. There’s just genetic components and a fuckload of magic.” She glanced at me. “I actually have no idea who the chemist or biologist was. Likely multiple people.” She narrowed her eyes at Aiden. “What about the sorcerer Azar?”
Aiden shook his head. “No. He hates working with blood. Too messy, too unbecoming. I doubt he’d do well on the cellular level.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“You think. You guess,” Christopher said mockingly. “I know truth when magic whispers it to me.”
“That wasn’t magic, asshole.” Samantha turned her back on the clairvoyant, snatching a ginger snap from the plate I’d set out and biting into it viciously.
The timer went off. I pulled the strainer from the tea, setting it aside, then pouring the first mug.
Samantha spoke while chewing. “That was an uber-fucking-telepath who watched you grow up under carefully controlled conditions, and who knows how to manipulate you.”
“I disagree,” Christopher said stiffly.
I poured more tea, dosing mine and Aiden’s with a splash of milk. I left Samantha’s black, and the fourth mug empty.
Samantha practically upended the sugar into her mug, causing the tea to slop over the edges. She cleaned the spill up with her napkin, then slurped the piping-hot tea, making room so she could stir it.
“So we ward the house against a telepath,” I said, sorting out actionable intel from all the emotion being flung around.
“Yeah,” Samantha said. “I agree with Aiden. I doubt Chenda will try another direct assault with the witches. She’s also not going to wait until the twins recoup their power. She won’t want to give us time to fortify against her specifically. And she didn’t realize Christopher was here. Now that she knows, she’s obviously trying to compromise him psychologically, because blocking him magically is nearly impossible.”
“Effective for a strategy she must have devised on the fly,” I said.
Christopher pushed himself from the wall, taking a couple of steps into the kitchen. “How many times are you going to make me apologize, Emma?”
“Once would probably be enough,” Aiden said darkly.
“Stay out of it, sorcerer. You have no say here.”
“Don’t I? You betrayed me right alongside everyone else.”
Christopher scoffed nastily. “What about you? Your wards crumpled like paper.”
“It took two black witches and a telepath, a contemporary of my father’s, to take down my unfinished wards. I did my part. I will continue to do my part. But you saw everything play out ahead of time, and you still let Emma and Paisley get hurt —”
Christopher went for Aiden.
He actually managed to round the corner of the island before my shock dissolved into action. I stepped between them. Christopher’s fist skimmed my right cheek as I twisted out of the way.
He stumbled into me, unable to check his momentum. Then he reared back, hands raised in surrender, shock plastered across his face.
Scared of me.
As he should have been, of course. But it still hurt. A chasm yawned open somewhere deep inside me. I stuffed it closed, shoring it up with anger and frustration.
Christopher’s magic flared, washing out his eyes. His jaw dropped.
I eyed him coolly.
Samantha stepped up beside the clairvoyant, off to the side so that if I hit him, she wouldn’t get caught up in his fall.
“Him?” Christopher murmured. “You’d choose him over me?”
“You’ve already made your choice,” I said stiffly.
We stood like that, the clairvoyant’s magic shifting across me. Caressing my stinging cheek, teasing over the blood tattoos on my spine. The bond that tied me to the telekinetic, who was still waiting for the fight to explode, began to prickle.
Aiden stepped up behind me, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. But I kept my gaze glued to Christopher’s, letting him sort through whatever future or futures his magic was calling forth.
“I’m going to start on the house wards,” Aiden finally murmured.
“Thank you,” I said. “Please take Paisley with you. I’ll be out to help soon.”
Aiden stepped away.
“I’m the better spellcaster,” Christopher said. “Better than Zans and Socks. I should be the one to help.”
No one answered him. Aiden collected his jacket and boots from the laundry room, then moved into the study for a moment. Collecting supplies, I assumed. Paisley followed him with her bone and spellbook.
Christopher opened his mouth twice more, but he didn’t speak out loud. His magic raged around him but didn’t find purchase.
I realized he hadn’t cast cards. And he wasn’t utilizing his oracle cards now.
So he didn’t want to sharpen his sight.
He was avoiding the future.
I wasn’t certain what that meant for us. For what was about to happen. It was one thing to work independently from the clairvoyant. Samantha and I had occasionally worked together without him. Though when the Five were broken into teams, it was usually me working with Fish and the other three paired together.
What if we were going to have to counter Christopher? What if he was going to actively try to work against us? Was that even possible?
I glanced at Samantha over the clairvoyant’s shoulder. Her expression was grim.
“How long has he been unstable?” she asked.
I didn’t answer. Christopher wasn’t unstable. Since parting ways with the other three, he’d been as focused as he ever was in all the years before. His entire life was designed to ground him.
“Socks,” Samantha said, “we’re going to have to bench him if he’s violent. I wouldn’t have thought it possible for him to betray us, but obviously —”
Christopher’s face crumpled. His shoulders sagged and he slumped against the counter, mumbling, “I can’t see my way through.”
Samantha frowned.
“You don’t want to see your way through,” I said evenly.
“I’ve been casting cards
all afternoon,” Christopher said sharply. “I keep getting … echoes of you, as if I’m seeing the past. Your past. Which makes no sense.”
“New ability?” Samantha shifted until she stood next to me, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Something you’re seeing of the past is the key to unlocking the future?”
“That’s not it,” Christopher said. “I only see future events.”
“You just said the exact opposite,” Samantha said peevishly.
“It doesn’t matter.” I needed to interrupt the argument before it exploded into a fight. “We’ll fortify the house and prepare for a telepathic assault. When the mystic comes, I’ll take her out myself. On my own.”
Christopher grimaced at me silently, but I didn’t give him a chance to debate me.
“I’m certain Aiden can secure you in a pentagram if you feel like you’ll betray us again.”
“Betray you!” Christopher spat.
Samantha shoved her face close to his, forcing eye contact. “What would you call it, clairvoyant?” He opened his mouth to defend himself, but she kept talking. “You don’t make mistakes in the moment.”
“The future can change, especially if Socks is —”
“Please,” Samantha scoffed. “You compensate. You see her through. Always. You don’t just throw her in front of a fucking death curse.”
“It was confusing,” he shouted. “I saw a conversation. But Socks doesn’t ask the right questions. She doesn’t ask any questions. She was just going to decapitate the mystic, and —”
“And what?” Samantha asked mockingly. “Lift the binding on my magic? Which, by the way, I’m fairly certain is actually killing me. Rid the world of one of the Collective? Keep everyone she cares for, everyone she protects, safe? Including you, asshole.”
Christopher struggled to respond. Then he settled on, “That can all still happen.”
“Can it?” I asked evenly. “Is that why you’re seeing echoes of the past instead of a clear future?”
“Emma …” His magic rose again, fluttering over my chest and collarbone, then reaching out toward Zans. “I didn’t betray you. I would never knowingly betray you.”
“You can’t have it both ways,” I said.
Samantha crossed her arms. “Either you’re compromised or unreliable, so you need to be put down. Or you deliberately shaped the events we’re now facing.”
“This is ridiculous.” Christopher’s magic shifted again. He was struggling against whatever it was showing him, trying to force it away. “Maybe I made a mistake! Maybe she isn’t my mother, and she was just … playing games. Emma … Socks, I see you … in the house, trapped in the house.”
“I’m not going to be trapped in the house. You’re going to be secured in the house while I clean up your mess.” I gave Samantha a look. “Both of your messes.”
“Hey,” she said, raising her hands, “I already owned up.”
Completely done with the conversation, I stepped away. I had always trusted the clairvoyant, but I’d never liked being controlled by him. He had skirted the line before, playing with my life, trying to influence my choices, but I’d never thought he would ever deliberately put me in harm’s way so that he could try to change the future.
Either way, I wasn’t going to let him do it again. “After I take care of the mystic, we’ll track down Daniel and Bee.”
Samantha nodded, her gaze pinned on Christopher.
He nodded as well, eyes downcast.
I pinned my gaze to him as well so that he would see I was serious, resolved. His magic shifted, showing him what I was about to say before I said it. His expression grew incredulous — then pained.
“And then you’ll decide who you wish to go with,” I said. “Zans, Fish, or Bee.”
“Daniel is probably the better choice,” Samantha said with a sigh. “He’s more set up than me. And Bee isn’t a fan of using her offensive magic.”
“You’re kicking me out?” Christopher asked tonelessly.
“What does the future tell you?” I asked, unable to keep an even tone. His betrayal had hurt me deeply.
He swallowed. “But … I love you. I love our life. And Paisley, and …”
“Not enough,” I said. “Apparently, a stranger with something interesting to say was all it took for that so-called love to waver. And I won’t let you hurt me or put Aiden, Paisley or — if I’m so lucky as to gain guardianship of her — Opal in jeopardy willfully. Or did you forget who was in the house while you were playing puppet master and saving the mystic’s life in the front yard.”
He opened his mouth to respond.
I walked away.
I had told Aiden I would help him, but standing around and chatting wouldn’t fortify the house.
“Emma!” Christopher cried, exasperated. “You’re being unreasonable. I knew you could shake it off. I would never put you or anyone else in real harm.”
I grabbed my ski jacket and a second set of boots from the laundry room, picking up Samantha’s response as I zipped up the jacket and stepped outside.
“What does the future show you, clairvoyant?” she said mockingly. “With you now seeing fragments of Emma’s past? Does that sound harmless?” Her voice became low, deadly. “I’ll put you down myself if it’s necessary. Without you, the four of us can survive. Without Socks? All bets are off.”
I shut the door behind me, welcoming the cool air on my bruised cheek. Then I crossed around the house to help Aiden set up wards as best I could.
Because in the end, that was all I really could do. Fortify, then face the adversary.
Chapter 9
Magic shivered across the top of my spine, digging into nerves and bone to tug me from a deep, exhausted sleep. It took a moment for me to open my eyes, to absorb where I was. Moonlit darkness, tucked under a worn, soft quilt. My back snuggled against the sorcerer I’d invited to my bed for the second time, though he was too magically drained to do more than sleep.
And in that moment, I thought I was before.
The before when I’d first woken with the blood tattoos etched into my four top thoracic vertebrae. I thought I was waking in that moment — artificial lighting, single wool blanket, divided by concrete walls from companions that had been chosen for me — forever tied to the Five.
The Five.
I sat up. Power pooled across all four of my blood tattoos, lingering, tugging me fully awake now, coaxing me from the warmth of my bed.
I reached to wake Aiden. He was sprawled next to me, snoring lightly. His magic was still at half strength, needing a few more hours of sleep to fully restore itself. At a minimum. I hesitated. Over the course of the late afternoon and until well after dark, I had amplified him three times in order to get the wards in place on the house. Once they were at full strength, even I could feel their dense layer of protections. The mystic wasn’t getting through the runes that Aiden had anchored to the foundations, not even backed by the twin black witches. Not without alerting all of us.
So the percolating magic of the blood tattoos wasn’t the result of a direct assault on the house. And Aiden needed sleep, not another round of amplification. Even a sorcerer as powerful as he was could be stretched too thin.
Ironically, it was the blood tattoos on all of the Five that had allowed me to regularly push each of the others beyond the boundaries of their own endurance without harming them. Well, without hurting them beyond repair. That was a more accurate assessment.
I slipped out of bed, carefully tugging the blankets up so Aiden wouldn’t get cold. He murmured, but didn’t fully stir. A sliver of magic rose at his command, as if he were casting in his sleep. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who leaked power while slumbering.
I had gone to bed in a tank top and panties. I quickly tugged on wool socks, cotton leggings, and a sweater long enough to be a short dress, padding down the hall toward the guest room as I finished dressing.
Samantha was curled up in Opal’s bed, knees tucked to her chest, facing
the door. Earlier, Ember had texted Aiden an update after she, Capri, and Opal had arrived safely in Vancouver. They had booked onto an evening flight into Seattle. Another update presumably waited, unread, on the sorcerer’s phone. I made a note to check it before I climbed back into bed.
Samantha was breathing deeply, steadily. Paisley was sprawled out beside her on the bed. Not touching her. But even then, I was surprised that the demon dog had forgiven the telekinetic enough to sleep with her.
So perhaps Paisley had a larger capacity to forgive than I did.
I slipped into the room, moving through the darkness until I could see the tattoos at the top of Samantha’s spine. The blood bonds on her T1 and T3 vertebrae — the ties that bound her to me and Christopher — were shimmering with power. It actually felt stronger than the telekinetic’s own magic.
Anger welled up in me. Whatever lock the mystic had placed on Samantha was most definitely slowly killing her. This needed to end. Tomorrow at the latest.
The mystic might have been able to hide from my senses — and the witches’ tracking spell — but I’d have Aiden working with Paisley at first light. He had anchored the house wards with a half-dozen of the runes he found in the book the demon dog had pulled out of the box. And there would be more runes in its pages that would help him track the mystic.
If not, I had no doubt he and Paisley could find the black witches. The sorcerer was more magically sensitive than I was. Plus, he’d known at least one black witch intimately, and tainted magic left a stain.
Samantha would be safe behind the house wards while we hunted the mystic down.
Paisley cracked one red-hued eye, but didn’t otherwise acknowledge me.
I slipped from the room, stepping farther down the hall to check on Christopher. The white of his magic was leaking from his closed eyes, and he, too, murmured in his sleep as I moved around the bed, trying to get a glimpse of his tattoos.
Mystics and Mental Blocks (Amplifier 3) Page 19