Samantha stopped laughing, though a wide grin was still plastered across her face.
Christopher locked his gaze to me, his magic reaching out for me. I didn’t brush it away this time. “I’m allowed to be upset.”
“Of course,” Opal said reasonably, returning to nibbling delicately on her grilled cheese. “But you aren’t allowed to be angry for no reason.”
“I have every reason,” he growled, spinning back to flip the sandwiches. They were slightly burned on one side. He cursed. “You ran away. Aiden thinks he has authority over you, over this household. And Samantha brought all this shit on us.”
“Would you have turned her away?” I asked casually.
“Of course not!” he said stiffly.
“And what did Aiden prevent you from doing that you desperately wanted to do?”
Christopher turned his back on me, flipping the sandwiches a second time. “These are ruined,” he snarled.
“I’ll eat it,” I said.
“You won’t,” he growled. “It’s burned on one side and not cooked enough on the other.”
“So finish cooking the one side,” I said reasonably.
“That’s not going to fix it!”
Aware that we weren’t just talking about grilled cheese sandwiches, I tried to sort my way through the conversation. But I wasn’t fantastic at communicating plainly in English, let alone in whatever food code the clairvoyant was using, so I wasn’t certain how to continue.
Christopher sighed into the silence. After a moment to allow the other side of the sandwiches to brown, he slid the two offending grilled cheeses onto Aiden’s cutting board. The sorcerer sliced them in half, placing two halves on my empty plate and the two other halves on an empty plate by his elbow.
The clairvoyant set the frying pan to the side of the stove, turning off the gas. He slumped, back pressed against the counter next to the sink. “The sorcerer was pissed when I killed the witches.”
“Because I didn’t know if they were tied to the spell.” Aiden maintained his carefully blank expression, his carefully modulated tone. Hiding his anger deeply under layers of rigid control, a byproduct of his upbringing. That past was behind him, I suspected, abandoned along with the perfectly tailored suits. That much I’d figured out about the sorcerer.
“They were,” I said.
“Yes,” the sorcerer said grimly. “Which is why it would have been safer to incapacitate them.”
“The Five don’t incapacitate,” Christopher snarled.
“And we don’t usually pause for a chat in the middle of a fight,” Samantha said pointedly. “We don’t usually let Socks take a death curse while we contemplate handing one of our own over to a member of the Collective.”
Christopher and Samantha locked gazes, trying to stare each other down. Or maybe to kill each other with their minds. Thankfully, Bee was the only one of us who wielded that type of power, and she wasn’t prone to temper tantrums.
I took a bite of my grilled cheese. It was barely burned.
“I tried to kill the mystic, didn’t I?” the clairvoyant finally snarled. “Whether or not she is who she claims to be.”
“Too little, too late,” the telekinetic spat. Samantha held grudges even better than I did.
“Aiden got in my way,” Christopher said, but looking at me, not the sorcerer.
Aiden sighed, flicking his gaze to Opal with a grimace. “Logic didn’t allow us to kill her. We might have needed her to wake Emma.”
“I understand your concern,” I said. “I could see the spell collapsing after Samantha got free —”
“Thanks for the hand in that, by the way,” Zans interrupted. Then, ruining the sentiment, she sneered at Christopher. “See how that’s done?”
He shook his head at her, pulling his oracle cards out of his pocket and shuffling them.
I ignored them, continuing, “I got back to the pentagram in time … well, the one in my head. But I was drained. I’ve never tried to wield borrowed magic for such a long period of time. It might have made me more vulnerable to the spell collapsing.”
“Well,” Samantha drawled, shoving back her stool, “it’s good to know you’re human, at least. I’ll send the lawyer in.”
But instead of leaving, Samantha stepped around Opal and wrapped her arm around my shoulders, pressing her face to the back of my head. I wrapped my hand around the back of her neck, my fingers barely brushing the blood tattoo on her T1 vertebra. The magic — my magic — rose at my touch.
Christopher watched us, holding the stack of oracle cards tightly in both hands, pain etched across his face. “We … were …” He cleared his throat. “We were going to try Bee next. The mystic isn’t in any shape to have helped you. Despite what the sorcerer thought.”
Samantha released me without a word, crossing through the laundry room while glaring back at Christopher. The exterior door banged shut behind her. Outside, she crossed by the French-paned doors and down the patio steps, heading to the barn.
“She’s really pissed at you,” Opal said, speaking to Christopher.
“Yes.” He sighed, then grimaced. “Deservedly.”
Aiden started buttering more slices of bread. I finished the first half of my sandwich. Christopher relit the gas burner, putting two more sandwiches together in the frying pan.
Opal glanced between us all, then broke the silence. “Now what?”
I took a sip from a glass of water I had just noticed by my plate, assuming it was mine. “Now I speak to the mystic.”
“Then kill her?” Opal asked.
The question hung between all of us, and I thought about how best to answer. “Christopher is right,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “The Five wouldn’t leave her alive.”
Opal propped her chin in her hands, legs swinging from the stool. “But?”
“But … she didn’t kill us. I’m … I don’t think she even tried.” I met Aiden’s gaze. “And amplified by me …”
The sorcerer nodded. But it was Christopher who finished my thought. “She could have shredded through all our minds with far less effort than it took to try to hold us.”
I took another sip of water, then set my glass down. “Exactly. So we start with a conversation. And once the threat is eliminated, I’ll take you back to the Academy.”
Christopher stiffened, blinking at me in surprise.
A smile ghosted over Aiden’s face.
“You’ll take me?” Opal asked. “Not Ember?”
“Not Ember,” I said. “Because apparently Ember can be distracted with cupcakes. And I have no such weakness.”
Opal thought about that for a while, eyes narrowed. Possibly trying to catalogue what my other weaknesses might actually be.
Christopher wrapped a grilled cheese sandwich in a folded paper towel, then passed it across the counter to the young witch. “Take this to Paisley, please.”
“In the barn?”
“Yes.”
“Am I allowed to check on the chicks?”
“Yes.”
Needing no other motivation, Opal grabbed the wrapped sandwich, hopped off the stool, and ran for the laundry room.
“Stay away from the pentagram,” Aiden called after her. “And don’t talk to the mystic.”
“What am I?” Opal shouted back. “A moron?” The door opened, then slammed behind her.
We watched her stomp by the windows. She’d shoved her feet into too-large boots. Christopher’s.
Christopher slid the final grilled cheese onto the cutting board. The sorcerer sliced it, then transferred it onto the clairvoyant’s empty plate.
Christopher nodded his thanks, placing the frying pan in the sink.
Aiden crossed around the island, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to walk the perimeter. I’ll meet you in the loft, if you like.”
“Yes, thank you.” We all needed to be included in the next conversation I had with the mystic.
Aiden glanced at Christopher. The c
lairvoyant nodded, and the sorcerer stepped into the laundry room to retrieve his jacket and boots. I watched him step down into the backyard, crossing by the winter-dormant garden.
“Has the snow all melted?” I asked.
Christopher finished chewing before he answered. “Still patches on the edges of the road, where it was plowed.”
I settled my gaze on him, then waited.
He finished his sandwich, then reached across for my half-full glass of water with a thin smile. He drained the glass, refilled it, and set it back in front of me.
“Are you really going to take Opal to the Academy?”
“Yes. Do you want to come with me?”
He looked startled, then twisted his lips. “That easy, huh? Samantha will carry a grudge to the end of days, but I throw you into a death curse because I know you can take it, and you just forgive me.”
I thought about that for a moment. Then, not really coming up with any other answer, I shrugged. “I could take it. You made a call. I would have liked to have understood your reasoning, but here we are.”
He nodded, his gaze downcast.
“Do you remember me being in your head?” I asked quietly. “With the pages of the children’s books?”
“Yes.”
“You used to do that, before the blood tattoos.”
“Yes.”
“You said something about knowing me, seeing me from before.”
“Yeah. I did.”
“So … then. Maybe I’m not strong enough to fight destiny. Or stupid enough.”
His head snapped up. “Destiny? You?”
“I understand wanting to have a family,” I said. “To belong to someone, and to feel —”
He interrupted me. “I have a family. I chose. I stick by the choice. I’m sorry I got confused.”
“Visions in the field of engagement can be confusing,” I said, completely letting him off the hook.
Though if I was being honest with myself, I wasn’t certain I would ever be able to fully trust Christopher again.
His eyes glowed white with his magic. He sighed sadly at whatever future he saw unfolding in his mind.
Outside, Ember stepped onto the back patio, crossing toward the exterior door.
“You can trust me, Fox in Socks,” Christopher whispered. “Just as I trust you to hold our futures in your hand, next to your heart.”
He was referring to the individual piles of pictures he’d given me in the mystic’s mind trap. “Okay,” I said.
“I keep pulling this …” He tugged a single oracle card from his back pocket, placing it on the counter. “Multiple three-card draws, and this is the only recurring card. I’m not sure what it means, except that maybe you need to see it.”
Ember stepped into the laundry room followed by a brush of her magic, then shut the door behind her.
The oracle card depicted a black-inked drawing of a flower, with an intention handwritten underneath.
Marigold.
Security.
I touched the edge of the card lightly, recalling what I knew of the intention tied to it. “Security. Protection … authority …”
“Good luck in legal matters … respect …” Christopher murmured, adding in the properties the marigold brought to the reading.
I met his intent light-gray gaze. Not a hint of magic in his eyes. Then I nodded.
He smiled tightly, tucked the card back in his pocket, and began making another sandwich.
I slipped away to properly dry my hair before Ember stepped into the kitchen.
The Mystic of the Golden Peninsula sat cross-legged within the pentagram in the barn loft. At each point of the copper star inlaid into the white-painted slat flooring, Aiden had carved a different rune. The runes and the copper piping all glowed with dark-blue sorcerer magic.
A series of tea lights set within small circles of salt were situated between the points of the pentagram. The lit flame of each candle was tinged with a light-blue power signature, presumably Ember’s casting. A backup spell, in case the sorcerer’s barrier was compromised.
A solid field of power stood between the six of us and Chenda, caging her within it, as one by one we stepped up into the loft and arrayed ourselves around her.
Samantha tucked Opal beside her, nearest the top of the stairs. Christopher was on my left, Paisley and Aiden to my right. Ember, composed in her perfectly pressed suit, stood near the young witch. The lawyer was carrying her slim briefcase.
The mystic looked drawn, worn, and at least fifteen years older than the last time I’d seen her. I could be a real shock to the system for any Adept who tried to use me to hurt those under my protection.
I crouched before her.
She spoke without opening her eyes. “You’ve awoken, amplifier.”
“Yes.” The fact that she’d known I was present without looking informed me that she could feel magic outside the pentagram. And if she could do that, she might soon be able to cast from within the barrier as well. Despite Aiden’s precautions.
I glanced back at the sorcerer. He nodded, his expression otherwise inscrutable.
We wouldn’t be able to hold the mystic much longer, not without killing her or fortifying the prison even more. Aiden was drained, though I could amplify him.
But to what end? It was better to make a decision. To remove the threat.
The mystic opened her eyes, sweeping her intense gaze over me. “You appear unharmed. Good.”
I didn’t answer, allowing her to elaborate as she wished. For now.
She cast her gaze over my head, taking in Christopher with a grimace that let me know she’d gone toe-to-toe with the clairvoyant and hadn’t enjoyed the experience. She barely bothered noting Samantha, Opal, or Ember. Though Aiden got a long look, and her gaze lingered on Paisley. The demon dog sat just behind me at my right shoulder, in her regular pit bull form.
“Will a cooler head prevail?” she finally asked.
“I’m not sure yet.” I settled back, crossing my legs.
A smile teased her lips, as if I was easy to read. And perhaps I was.
After all, she had raised me for some portion of my life. If raising me was an accurate way to describe it.
“My witches?” she asked.
“Dead,” Aiden said brusquely. “Not by Emma’s hand.”
She sighed. “I shouldn’t have acted so quickly. I should have waited, allowed them to recover from you …” She eyed me. “I’d forgotten …”
“About my ability to gain immunity.”
She laughed. “That … and other things.” She flicked a gaze to Christopher, then looked away as if catching herself.
That was interesting.
“The blood you made the amulets with was taken before the tattoos were implemented,” I said.
“Yes.”
“Another miscalculation.”
“Apparently.” She waved a hand offishly. “What now?” She looked pointedly over my shoulder at Opal. “Will you kill me in front of the child? Drain my magic, take everything I have left?”
“Opal knows who I am,” I said steadily.
Chenda blinked, surprised, but she quickly recovered. “Indeed. It’s difficult to disguise being a killer. Shall we get on with it?”
I tilted my head thoughtfully, knowing she was trying to play some game with me. Presumably thinking she might be able to grab hold of my mind after she goaded me into touching her to drain her magic. “Why didn’t you kill us?” I asked.
Chenda looked affronted. “You’re powerful assets. Killing you would be ridiculous …” She narrowed her eyes at me. “A waste …”
“Exactly,” I said. “And the Collective didn’t raise idiots. So why would we Five throw you away?”
“Shall we be united, amplifier?” she whispered. Her gaze flicked to Christopher, then back to me. “Had I not been pulled forth by the telekinetic, I would have let you be.”
“But finding three of us together was too tempting.”
; “See how well we already know each other?”
I snorted. “This is Ember Pine of the law firm of Sherwood and Pine.”
A flicker of understanding crossed Chenda’s face. “Going to make me sign in blood, are you, Emma Johnson?”
I leaned close, baring my teeth. “If blood is all you understand, then blood is what you get.”
“Oh,” she breathed. “I underestimated you. How delightful.”
I glanced at Ember. “We’re going to need a contract drawn up.”
“Already started,” the witch lawyer said with an offish sniff.
I stood, turning away without another word. Ember stepped up to take my place, kneeling as she opened her briefcase. I touched Opal’s shoulder lightly, indicating she should precede me down the steps. Paisley followed us.
“What now?” Opal asked in a whisper as we stepped away from the stairs, crossing deeper into the barn.
“Now conditions will be discussed,” I said, pausing to watch the week-old chicks hopping around in the red-lit brooder situated on a long workbench under the loft. “The mystic will demand concessions from Samantha. She’ll bargain hard for the conditions that will allow her to walk away, alive. But the contract will protect the identities and location of the Five, as well as you and Aiden. Ember Pine is very skilled. Her contracts aren’t breakable. At least not without dire consequences.”
Paisley hooked her paws on the edge of the workbench that held the brooder, lifting herself up to peer at the chicks.
“And what will you get?” Opal asked. “By letting her live?”
One less stain on my soul, I thought. But I said, “An ally. A resource. And … Christopher. Christopher needs her alive. For some reason.”
“I get that,” Opal whispered.
I touched her shoulder. “I know. Let’s make some ginger snaps while they work it out. They’ll be ready in time for tea if we start them now.”
Opal twined her fingers through mine. “Okay.”
We wandered back toward the exterior door.
“My mom liked chocolate chip,” Opal said. “She didn’t bake, but she always bought us one to share whenever we saw them at a bakery.”
Mystics and Mental Blocks (Amplifier 3) Page 27