by Lana Melyan
I also pulled out my dad’s grimoire. There were still a lot of spells I haven’t even looked at yet. So far I had only tried the ones I’d heard off before. Like healing, locator, or cloaking spells, and I wanted to know more.
I poured myself a cup of coffee. When I grabbed the grimoire from the couch where I had left it, two envelopes fell out from between the pages. Joseph’s and Josephine’s letters. Josephine’s confession to Joseph that she was the one who stole the map and the reason she did it, and Joseph’s forgiveness. I picked up the envelopes, shoved them back in the book, and sat in the living room at a small table next to the window.
Turning page after page, I read the titles of the spells. Some of them Nate had taught me during our lessons. But I also discovered a lot of new ones, used only by my dad, or some other Callahan. My eyes stopped at one that had a Latin name and Latin incantation beneath it. I put Josephine’s letter on the page, using it as a bookmark to translate the text later, and moved forward.
Closer to the last pages, I saw another spell that said it had been used by Henry Callahan against Kenneth. I stared at it, my heartbeat quickening. As I read the first few lines, I realized it wasn’t the suffocating spell, but the one Henry used to disable Kenneth so that Jeffrey Cain, who was the head of the Cain coven in 1813, could use the powder Nate had told me about to put Kenneth asleep. And only after that, Henry and Jeffrey together performed the spell to suffocate Kenneth. To achieve the needed result, the two of them had used extremely dark magic. That was the reason the two heads of the covens acted alone.
“Do I smell coffee?” Nate’s voice came from the bedroom.
I didn’t wish to start our morning with the talk about dark incantations, so I put Joseph’s letter on the page, shut the book, and tossed it in the bag. Then I grabbed a mug from the shelf, filled it with coffee, and headed to the bedroom.
“Hi,” I smiled, looking at Nate’s sleepy face.
He beamed back. “Waking up and seeing your smile makes a morning perfect, no matter what.”
I sank onto the edge of the bed.
“Here it is.” I handed him the mug as he pulled himself up and leaned against the headboard.
“What were you doing?” he asked, taking a sip.
“Reading. Not making breakfast, sorry. We have nothing here. I’ll text Connie to see if they’re up, so we can go have some beignets. Nate.” I took his hand. “Things look really bad right now, and if something happens to me—”
“Nicky, we’ve talked about this.” He frowned. “You are not doing this. I’ll never let you—”
“This isn’t about immortality. You were right.” I sighed. “I don’t want to be eighteen for the rest of my life. I do want to grow older. So you don’t need to worry, I’m not going to do it. At least, not in the near future.”
“Then what is it?”
“I got from the vault everything we need to finish the mission. If anything happens to me, you’ll have all the information you need, but you still won’t be able to get in the tomb, and who knows what other spells you’ll need to remove? You need to have my blood, just in case.”
“No. Nothing is going to happen to you, do you hear me? I’ll never let them hurt you.”
If it’s not dark incantations, then you can always come up with something else to ruin the mood. I changed the subject.
“Do you ever think about our life without the mission? What it would be like?”
“All the time. I’ve got all our trips planned for your every break at school. You’ll get into the college of your dreams, and then. . . . And that’s when the scariest part begins. I mean, scariest for me.” His black eyes looked into mine.
“What? Why?”
“Because that’s when you’ll want to go and live in the dorm, experience the whole thing, and you should. And you’ll meet new people . . .” he shrugged. “And . . .”
I laughed. “And what? And I’ll meet a new guy and forget about you?”
“It’s possible.” He didn’t smile.
“Nate, I thought we were far past that.” I ran my thumb over his lips. “You’re my special edition, and no one can replace you. Nothing in this world makes sense to me without you.”
He tossed the mug on the nightstand and locked his arms around me, his eyes glowing. “Kiss me.”
I took his face in my hands. “You’re the only one I want,” I whispered before granting his wish.
8
Connie, Logan, Nate, and I came out of the building into a sunny street.
“The bar is still closed.” Connie looked through the window glass as we passed by.
“They open around eleven,” said Nate. “Sam is probably still asleep, but I’m sure Brian will arrive before Sam comes down.”
“Comes down? Where does he live?”
Nate glanced at the second-floor windows above the bar. “Right there. His parents owned that place.”
We settled at a cafe down the street and ordered coffee and beignets.
Logan glanced at Nate. “Did you come up with any idea how—”
“If you say another word, I’ll poke you with this fork.” Connie glared at him and picked up the fork from the napkin. “We are not talking about any of it right now. We’re having a normal breakfast, like normal people.”
“Your wish is my command.” Logan folded his arms on the table and leaned forward. “So, what do you want to talk about?”
Connie stared at him. Then she glanced at me with the same musing expression.
Yeah, we had a lot to talk about before. We shared our emotions, our feelings, we talked about school, shopping, books, movies, parties, our friends, our families, our future. But some of it was gone, and the rest seemed irrelevant.
“Do you like the coffee?” Connie picked up her cup. “I think it’s delicious.”
It shouldn’t have been funny, so I didn’t know why, but I laughed. And so did Logan and Nate.
“Oh, shut up,” Connie grumbled. Her eyes stopped at a guy two tables away. “That’s a funny outfit. Is he cosplaying Drake or something?”
“Who’s Drake?” asked Logan.
“Nathan Drake. Don’t tell me you never heard of him.”
“Oh, that Drake.” Logan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “You never told me you love video games.”
“Didn’t I?” Connie tilted her head. “Well, now you know.”
“What else did you play?”
“I’ve tried Call of Duty online.”
Logan smiled. “No way. Were you good?”
“Oh, yeah, I was a badass. You know what I was good at? Catching grenades. Even the ones I threw myself. I threw them, then ran, and boom, I’m dead.”
All three of us laughed.
Nodding, Connie beamed at us. “See, we can do it. We can be normal.”
We approached the bar, and Nate pulled the door. It was locked, but Brian and Sam were already there. Brian was working next to the cashier, and Sam was filling the shelf with clean glasses.
Sam opened the door for us, and as we walked inside, he locked it again.
“Wait.” Connie glanced at Sam “Shouldn’t you be at school?”
“Look who’s talking,” Sam chortled. “Roy, the bartender, needed a day off, so I stayed to help Brian.”
Brian smirked. “Right. Don’t use me as your get-out-of-jail-free card. If the school calls me again—”
“Don’t worry, they won’t. I’m eighteen now. And they won’t kick me out, either. I compelled the principal.”
“You did what?” I stared at Sam.
“We have more important things to worry about right now than school. I had to.” He pulled a couple of extra chairs to one of the tables, and we all sat down. “I’ll show up from time to time so they don’t forget what I look like,” Sam chuckled. “It’ll be fine.”
“Brian, I haven’t been at all the coven meetings,” said Nate. “I was wondering if Vincent mentioned any of Order’s locations. Did he know where they moved after
they left Chicago?”
Brian shook his head. “No. He tried to find out, but you know how it was. They were tailing him all the time. All of us, actually.”
“Let’s say we find them,” said Sam. “We get the four witches we need, improve the sword, and kill Kenneth. What then? I mean, the Order won’t stop trying to open the gate, will they? They will want to finish what Kenneth started.”
“No, I don’t think they’ll stop trying.” Nate leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. “So, no, killing Kenneth won’t be enough. But it will make it easier to destroy the Order. As long as they don’t know Kenneth is dead, they’ll concentrate all their attention on the tomb, and we’ll have the opportunity to destroy them from the rear. Don’t ask me how. I don’t know yet. If they get Kenneth out, we’re doomed. Let’s deal with him first, then we’ll think about the rest.” Nate turned his eyes to Brian. “How’s Vincent’s house? What happened after the Order’s visit?”
“We don’t know,” replied Brian. “They crashed the camera on their way out. I was afraid they might have left the door wide open. I went to make sure it was closed, but I didn’t go inside.”
“I should go check it out.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said.
“No. You can’t show up there.” Nate dismissed my offer at once. “Not this time. First I have to make sure it’s safe.”
“You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to protect me. I can’t just sit and do nothing.” I couldn’t suppress my anger. “This is exactly what I was always afraid of. I’m slowing you down. If it wasn’t for me, you would act differently.”
“Nicky, it’s too risky. They might still be watching the house. You showing up there twice would look suspicious.”
“Then use me as bait.”
“What?” Nate straightened up in his seat.
“If it will make them come out . . . isn’t that what we’re here for? To find them?”
“I’m not going to use you.” He glared at me, his jaw tight. “How can you—”
“Nicky,” cut in Brian. “He’s right. We have to be careful. Let him check out the house first.” When I rolled my eyes, he added quietly, “I get it. After everything that happened . . . you’re angry and—”
“Angry?” I shouted. “They killed my entire family. Angry doesn’t cover it.” My chest hurt, and the view of Connie biting her lip suddenly blurred. “I need to do something. I can’t just sit and wait for—”
“You are doing something,” Nate shouted back. “You’re doing everything you can.”
“Nicky,” Brian said in a calm tone, “we can’t be impulsive. We need to think through every step. We’re so close, and we don’t want to mess this up.”
It was past eleven, and a couple of people peered in through the door glass.
“I’ll wait in the apartment.” I got up.
“Nicky.” Nate rose from his seat. But as I marched to the exit, I heard Connie’s voice say, “I got this.”
She caught up with me, and together we walked into the building across the street. We climbed to the second floor, and when I unlocked the door, Connie followed me inside.
“Nicky, I’m sorry,” she said as I dropped down on the couch. “I know how much it hurts. But they are right.”
“I know. I’m sorry, too, for losing control like that.” My grief was driving me mad, but this was a bad time to be reckless. “But I can’t allow him to waste time babysitting me either. I’m a powerful witch, and I wish instead of hiding I could use my powers, be helpful.”
Connie sank into the armchair next to me. “Let’s wait for them to come back. Maybe they’ll bring some news. But instead of just sitting, how about you teach me a few spells? You’ve never shown me how to heal a wound.”
“Right.” I bent over the bag sitting on the floor next to Connie. When I pulled out my dad’s grimoire, Joseph’s and Josephine’s letters fell out from between the pages again.
“They look so old.” Connie picked them up. She turned one and glanced at the name on the yellow envelope. “Josephine? Isn’t that Nate’s . . . sorry, it must be. . . .” She quickly handed them over.
“Yeah.” I sighed, putting the letters under the lamp on the small table beside the couch. “Nate hasn’t seen them yet. If you only knew how sick it makes me keeping secrets from him.”
Teaching Connie to do the spells took my mind away from the heavy thoughts. A couple of hours later, when Nate and Logan didn’t show up, Connie became restless.
“What’s taking them so long?” She looked out the window.
“Don’t worry. Nate is probably trying to clean up the mess the Order left behind so it will look as normal as possible when I visit the next time. He did the same in River Stones after the vampires turned my house upside down.”
“Maybe we should ask them just in case, to make sure they’re okay.” Connie checked her pockets for her phone. “I must’ve left it in my room.”
I picked mine up, but then changed my mind and put it down. I was still a bit angry with Nate, even that I knew he was right.
Connie tilted her head. “You’re being silly, you know that?” When I nodded, she headed to the door. “If there’s anything, I’ll let you know.”
For a few minutes, I sat staring at the front door. But Connie didn’t come back, which meant my theory was right. I dropped the grimoire on the floor and slipped down, laying my head on the cushions. A moment later I dozed off.
9
It was much darker when I opened my eyes. The warm, yellow light illuminating the room came from behind me, from the lamp on the small table next to the couch. I knew I wasn’t alone anymore. I sat up and looked back. In the armchair, where Connie had sat earlier, now sat Nate, staring at a piece of old, yellowed paper in his hand.
My heart stopped as I glanced at the two empty envelopes on the floor.
“Oh God,” I gasped. “Nate, I . . .”
He didn’t look at me.
“You knew.”
My insides turned from the sound of his pain-filled, quiet voice.
“You’ve known all this time.”
“No. I haven’t. I knew about Joseph and your mom, and I knew that she was the one who . . . But I found out why she stole the map only after I read the letters.”
“She did it for me. She stole the map to save my life, and I killed her.” His horrified look froze at the floor.
I stared at him. I didn’t know what to say, how to comfort him. He stood up, turning his back on me and stepping to the window.
“Nate.” I got up too. “Nate, you had no idea . . . you thought she betr—”
“And Joseph . . . that’s why she was sneaking out. To meet him.” He muttered like he was talking to himself. “I thought I knew my mother. But this . . . she had so many secrets.”
“Nate, look at me.” I had to do something. I couldn’t let him drown in his dark thoughts. “I know this is shocking. You shouldn’t have found out like this. I was planning to show them to you after we . . . at the right time. I’m sorry.”
He turned around. “Sorry?” He stared at me. “What are you sorry for? You didn’t do any of this. I did.” His eyes glittered with unshed tears. “What I did to my mother has haunted me my entire life. And now I find out that she did it to save me, her son. This,” he pointed at the letters on the floor, “only proves the fact that I was an impulsive, arrogant idiot. I’m the only one responsible for my monstrous actions.” He headed to the door.
“Nate, stop. Don’t do this to me again. Please.”
“What?” He looked at me. “No, I’m not . . . Nicky.” He walked back and wrapped me in his arms. “I don’t know how you can forgive me after everything.”
“Because of the same reason Joseph forgave your mother.” I locked my arms around his neck. “Because I love you, and I believe in you.”
He pulled back. “Thank you. For everything.” He kissed me. Then he walked to
the door. Before stepping out into the hallway, he glanced back. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. I just need a drink.”
I walked out to the balcony, and a moment later I saw Nate cross the street and walk into Sam’s bar.
Hours passed. Nate wasn’t back, and I thought to go down to the bar and make sure he was okay.
I didn’t know if it was the right thing to do, though. Maybe I should leave him alone. But it wasn’t as if he could talk to anyone else about his pain, share his dark thoughts with some drinking buddy. Maybe he needed me and just wasn’t brave enough to admit it, or maybe . . . Aaaah, cut the crap and go. You just need to know he’s all right and not passed out at the table.
I stopped and looked through the glass when I reached the bar door. I saw Sam behind the counter, but I couldn’t find Nate. There were still a few tables out of my view, and I pushed the door and walked inside.
Several pairs of eyes followed me as I made my way to the counter. Brian was nowhere to be seen. Sam was uncorking a few beer bottles behind the bar.
The guy sitting on the barstool drained his shot glass and turned his gaze on me.
“Well, hello there.” A grin spread across his face.
I threw at him a sideways look.
Sam looked up at me. “Nicky?” He put the bottles in front of the guy and moved closer to me. “How are you?”
Only when I saw his concerned look did I remember shouting at all of them this morning.
“I’m fine. I’m looking for Nate.”
“Nate?” Sam frowned. “He left.”
“Left?” Okaaay, keep calm. “When?”
The guy, who was still sitting on the stool, grinned again. “Don’t worry, gorgeous, you don’t need Nate. I’m here.”
Sam glared at him. “Don’t keep your friends thirsty.” He pushed the bottles toward him.
“I’m just saying.” The guy shrugged. But Sam kept glaring at him, and he grabbed the bottles and peeled himself from the stool.
“Is everything okay?” Sam asked as the guy shuffled away.