Null Witch: Secondhand Magic #1

by Lori Drake

  His angry expression melted, and he dropped to his knees across from me. “I’m here, baby.” He grabbed her discarded teddy bear and handed it to her.

  Alice curled an arm around her bear and smiled, relaxed and happy but obviously tired. I lifted the amulet from her chest experimentally, watching as her face went slack and her eyes unfocused. Alice wasn’t a mundie. She was a burned-out witch, and somehow the amulet with its stolen magic made her whole again.

  The witch’s hand lashed out, his fist closing around mine as they clutched the amulet. “Please.” His eyes pleaded along with his words, and the energy around him dissipated like a white flag being waved.

  I yanked my hand from his grasp. “How long has she been like this?”

  He hung his head, shoulders slumped. “Six months.”

  I blinked. Even if Escobar’s partner had been his first victim, which we had no evidence of, that had only been three weeks ago. Were there others that we didn’t know about?

  “When did you— How did you—” I couldn’t decide what to ask first.

  “Please give me the necklace.”

  I withdrew farther, tightening my grip on the amulet. “Not until you tell me what’s going on. Tell me everything.”

  He sighed and stroked Alice’s baby-fine hair. “We were on our way home from one of Alice’s soccer games. I don’t remember the accident itself. They told me a drunk driver ran a stop sign and hit the driver’s side head-on. My wife was driving.” He glanced at the wall of family portraits with grief-stricken eyes. “They said she died on impact. I got away with cracked ribs and a few scrapes, but I lost consciousness. When I came to, the first thing I became aware of was magic, powerful magic, seemingly all around me. It was Alice. She was trying to heal her mother.”

  I stared at him for a moment, slack-jawed. “You taught her healing magic? At her age?” Healing magic was powerful shit, well beyond many seasoned practitioners. To even attempt to teach it to a child? It boggled my mind.

  He winced, but continued, “I knew she was a bit young, but I’ve always had a knack for it. I thought it’d be okay to teach her a few simple spells. Healing minor scratches, that sort of thing. She started bringing home stray animals, and we’d patch them up together before taking them to the shelter. What I didn’t count on was how damn smart she is. How observant.”

  “You performed more complicated spells in front of her.”

  “Yes. And she tried to use them on Lindsey, who was probably too far gone even for me. Alice… she wouldn’t quit. She just kept pouring more and more magic into the spell. I called out to her, tried to stop her, but I could barely breathe and couldn’t get the seat belt unbuckled. She burned out before my eyes.”

  Anger and pity bubbled inside me. This idiotic man had given his child the metaphysical equivalent of a loaded handgun and was then shocked and dismayed when she pulled the trigger. But the thought of poor distraught Alice, kneeling beside her mother’s broken, lifeless body, trying to will her back to life… the mental image sent a shiver down my spine. I uncurled my fingers and looked down at the amulet. Its lingering magic sang to me.

  I held it up. “Where did you get this?”

  “It’s a family heirloom. I’d all but forgotten about it until after the accident. All I knew about it was that it stored magic. I’d never needed it.”

  The arrogance in his words brought a knowing smile to my lips. Those sorts of objects were considered crutches for weaker witches. “So, you got the idea to feed it some magic and put it on her?”

  He nodded. “You’ve seen it in action. I got my little girl back.”

  The pieces still didn’t quite connect. I turned the amulet over in my fingers, thinking. “So, what went wrong?”

  “I started using my own magic at first, but after a few months, it wasn’t enough. She needed more and more, so I looked for… alternative sources.”

  “Draining other witches dry, you mean.”

  He grimaced. “I’m still fine-tuning the spell.”

  “So, you what… started slipping witches you thought no one would miss spelled coins to use as focus objects for remote magic sucking?”

  His eyes widened, but he didn’t deny it. “Who— Who are you?” He shook his head, not waiting for an answer. “I never meant to hurt anyone, I swear. You can’t imagine what it’s like, to lose her like that, over and over. I had to do what I did. But now that you’re here, I don’t have to anymore.”

  I blinked, visions of being locked in his basement for the rest of Alice’s long life flashing through my mind.

  Oh. Hell. No.

  I rocked to my feet. “No. Absolutely not. We’re leaving.” I knew he had the means to overpower me again, easily, but I’ve never been short on stubbornness.

  “No, wait! You don’t understand.”

  “I understand perfectly, and I’m not going to be your personal magic battery. You can’t hold us here forever.”

  “I don’t need to. With your help, I think— No, I know. I can heal her.”

  I stared at him. The suggestion was preposterous. Ludicrous. Witches didn’t come back from burnout. They couldn’t be healed. Everyone knew that, even a null like me. “Do you think I was born yesterday? Gimme a break.”

  His eyes pleaded with me. “No, please. It’s like I said. I have a gift for healing. I just don’t have the kind of power it would take to do it on my own. But with your help, I know can pull it off.”

  There was an earnestness to him that told me he did believe it, even if it was delusional. I glanced over my shoulder at Dan. He was still out cold, which was a pity. I would’ve liked to hear what he had to say about all this. I just wanted to go home, to wash my hands of all this and bury my head back in the sand. But when I looked down at the little girl in the frilly pink nightie, I’ll be damned if the sight of her didn’t tug at my heartstrings. Either way, I met the witch’s eyes again and gave him my best no-nonsense look.

  “I’ll help you, on one condition.”

  He clasped his hands in front of him, a picture of desperation. “Anything you want. If it’s in my power, I promise I’ll do it.”

  “You get one shot. Whether it succeeds or fails, my brother and I get to walk away. From this moment on, we’re not your prisoners.”

  “Done,” he said quickly—a little too quickly for my taste, but beggars can’t be choosers.

  Chapter 33

  We moved Alice to the kitchen table and got Dan settled on the couch. It bugged me that he was still out cold, but his pupils were reactive when I checked. Plus, hard-headedness was kind of a family trait, so I wasn’t too worried.

  The witch tucked Alice’s teddy bear under her arm and stood opposite me at the table with Alice between us. He held his hands out, palms up. The amulet sat atop one of them. I placed my hand in the other. The glow of magic sprang to life around him, and I watched as the threads of the spell came together, bracing myself for the onslaught.

  Dread squeezed my stomach. My mouth went dry.

  “Wait,” I blurted as the spell loomed closer.

  He paused, giving me an inquisitive look.

  “What’s your name?”

  “My name?”

  I nodded.

  “Charles. Charles Adams.”

  “Okay, Chuck. Let me try something, before you…” I motioned at the spell hovering in the air. He released the threads that held it together, and it wisped away to nothing. I wanted to close my eyes, but I didn’t trust him enough. Instead, I let them unfocus and expanded my senses, searching for the tingle of energy I knew resided under my hand. I’d only ever successfully tapped into my ability out of desperation at that point, but it was more familiar to me now that I’d done it a few times intentionally. I drew a deep breath and imagined myself pulling Charles’s magic in with it. My fingers tingled as the first hint of power flowed between us. I sucked in another breath, and the magic flowed more freely.

  “What are you doing?” Charles said, pulling his hand away.
Or trying.

  I tightened my grip. “Give me a minute.”

  His power filled me, flowing from my fingers through my body, down my legs and into the floor at my feet. I expanded my awareness of it, feeling it connect with the magic in the earth. Charles pulled harder at my hand, but I didn’t let go. It was time to find out what I could really do. Kassidy had told me that my ability might work both ways. I knew now that it did. I just didn’t know if I could initiate it consciously.

  I took another deep breath, then exhaled slowly. Deliberately. I focused on the flow of energy, remembering what it felt like for Charles to pull the magic through me, and willed the stream of magic to reverse its course. It took a few seconds, but it worked. When I let my eyes focus again, I found Charles staring at me wide-eyed, the glow around him brighter than before. Willing myself not to smirk, I motioned with my free hand for him to get on with it.

  He cleared his throat and set to work, weaving lines of power into an intricate tapestry while I stood watching, magic flowing freely between us. It was like standing in a cool stream, the magic washing through me like crisp spring water. As the minutes drew on, and the spell gained complexity, sweat beaded on Charles’s forehead.

  “More,” he said, licking his lips as if parched.

  I hesitated, unsure if I could give him more—and of what would happen if I tried. His eyes met mine over the table, and he repeated his request. Nibbling the inside of my lip, I closed my eyes and imagined myself as a pipe the magic flowed through, focused on expanding it into a wider channel so that more could slip through. Nothing happened, so I shifted my focus to the magic itself, willing it to flow faster. With a surge, it did, like a flash flood through a creek bed. The sensation was less pleasant than the gently flowing stream, but still preferable to being on the receiving end of Charles’s spell. The floodgate was open, but it hadn’t been battered down.

  After a few moments, I registered the death grip Charles had on my hand. When I opened my eyes, he stood hunched over and gasping, as if it were too much. I dialed it back instinctively, but his fingers clamped down even harder.

  “Leave it,” he said. “It’s fine. It’s good.”

  “Are you sure?”

  He gave me a tight nod, and I let him have it. Shuddering, he closed his eyes and a few seconds later, his grip on my hand eased. He opened his eyes and straightened, going back to work on his spell which hovered in the air over Alice. There was so much magic coursing through him that the whites of his eyes glowed, the way that witch’s had in the ER last week. If I hadn’t already known he was pushing his limits, that would’ve cinched it.

  By then, the spell matrix was nearly as wide as Alice was tall, a complex three-dimensional construct that actually hurt my head when I tried to focus on it too hard. I’d never seen anything like it. Granted, I hadn’t spent a lot of time watching witches cast intricate spells. I had twenty-eight years of self-preservative apathy built up. Wanting to be able to use magic had never gotten me anywhere, never caused me anything but heartache. Yes, there was a time when I wanted to be a “real witch” more than anything, but wanting it couldn’t make it happen. I’d left that desire long ago, or at least convinced myself that I had.

  But now that I knew what it felt like to feel magic coursing through me, I wondered what else I could do. Was there more to being a Conduit than I’d discovered? Could I learn to cast spells while I was connected to a witch this way? For that matter, could I learn to pull magic into me without being connected to a witch? And if I could, would I be able to do anything with it?

  I had so many questions, but it wasn’t the time to explore them. I looked away from the increasingly complicated spell. My eyes settled on Alice, and I watched her narrow chest rise and fall slowly as she slept, her pale blond hair tousled around her small head. The idea that Charles might be able to restore her was far-fetched, but I wouldn’t have felt right if I didn’t let him try. Sure, he was basically a metaphysical rapist who’d been violating witches in the worst way, leaving behind broken husks that lacked the will to go on living. But Alice— Alice was an innocent. For a child to lose her magic so young? My heart ached for her. If there was a snowball’s chance in Phoenix that she could be healed, it was worth it.

  The seconds ticked by, turning into minutes. I checked in on Charles again. His features were drawn in intense focus, and his face had a haggard quality to it. Sweat ran down his face in rivulets, and he had damp patches under his arms. His grip on my fingers was firm, but his hand had begun to tremble.

  I opened my mouth to ask if he was okay, but hesitated to distract him. Before I could make up my mind which way to go, the spell hovering over Alice sank, disappearing into her. My eyes widened in alarm, but Charles’s face showed no hint that this was unexpected. He reached out and lay his free hand on her chest, and I continued watching as the golden glow around him spread out beneath his fingertips, licking across his daughter’s torso.

  “More,” he said, voice hoarse.

  Studying him, I frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  He looked up, meeting my eyes. “Please, Emily. I’m so close.”

  “I don’t think you can take much more. You won’t be any help to her if you burn yourself out.”

  “I can take it. I can do this. I have to do this. Please.”

  I glanced down at Alice again, worrying my lower lip between my teeth. Then I folded both my hands around his and cranked it up to eleven. His back arched and he cried out sharply, but the glow spreading from his fingers quickly grew to cover Alice’s entire body, until they were both lit up like the Fourth of July. Alice sucked in a deep breath all of a sudden, and her eyes popped open. Charles’s hand remained firm on her chest as she looked up at him, confusion plain upon her small features.

  Charles screamed, his mouth twisted in a painful grimace. His body went rigid and convulsed as the connection between us snapped. Power rushed back at me with enough force that I stumbled backwards. I hit the wall behind me, my vision swimming as I struggled against the backlash to remain upright.

  But the magic bled slowly back out, flowing down my trembling body and into the ground once more. I put a hand to my throbbing head and peeled my tongue off the roof of my suddenly dry mouth. When the room stopped spinning, I saw Alice sitting up on the table, clutching her teddy bear and staring at me with big blue eyes. The glow that’d been around her had vanished, but I could still sense the magic inside her. He’d done it. She was intact.

  Charles, however, was nowhere to be seen.

  I rushed around the table and found him on the floor. “Charles!”

  Kneeling beside him, I felt for his pulse and found it, thready but present. His chest rose and fell slowly, but his eyes… His eyes were open, glassy, staring at nothing. There wasn’t even a hint of magic left in him. My throat constricted and my eyes stung. I told myself that he wasn’t worth crying over, that he’d burned out at least three witches in a desperate, selfish bid to buy more time with his daughter. But I’d known what the consequence could be when I gave him that last boost of power, and I’d done it anyway. His condition was as much my fault as it was his.

  “Daddy!” Alice cried, looking over the edge of the table.

  I hastily swiped a tear from my cheek. “He’s okay, sweetie. He’s just sleeping.”

  Alice scrambled down off the table to join us on the floor. “His eyes are open.”

  “Sometimes daddies do that,” I said around the knot in my throat. “So they can watch out for their little girls even when they’re asleep.”

  She accepted this explanation with the innocence of youth and tucked her teddy bear under his arm before looking at me again. “Can I go play, now?”

  “Uh, sure. But stay in the house, okay?”

  “Okay!” She hopped to her feet and ran off.

  I watched in awe, scarcely able to believe this exuberant child was the same one that’d been so still, practically lifeless, mere moments ago. Shaking my h
ead, I sat back on my heels and noticed the glint of a gold chain sticking out of Charles’s pocket. The amulet. I plucked it free and tucked it in my own pocket for safekeeping, then went looking for a phone so I could call the police.

  Chapter 34

  I’m not going to pretend that Escobar didn’t give me an earful when we got back to the station, or that Andy and Michelle didn’t give me a hard time about being on the wrong end of a callout for the second time that week. But after the day I’d had, I welcomed the harassment since it came—in both cases—with the opportunity to let the professionals take over.

  Dan and I stopped at the Tin Whistle to pick up dinner on the way home, and within an hour of fleeing the police station with my dignity mostly intact, I was kicking back on my sofa with a steak burrito the size of my face, admiring the new painting propped up against the entertainment center. That’s right. I bought that landscape I’d been admiring, figuring I deserved to treat myself after a long week of family drama and crime-fighting.

  You’ll never guess whose name was on the artist card: John Warren.

  What were the odds that it’d turn out to be the same tall, dark, and sexy firefighter that’d run to the rescue and helped me get answers about my fledgling abilities? I had no idea. But I still felt good about my purchase. The walls in my apartment had been barren for far too long, and something about the painting had called to me.

  I was two bites into my burrito when a loud knock interrupted my meal. I glanced at my brother. “Wanna get that?”

  “Your house,” he said around a bite of his enchilada.

  “You live here too, now. And you’re not paying rent, so answer the damn door.”

  “Alright, alright, I’m going.” He dropped his styrofoam to-go container on the coffee table and headed for the door. I noticed Barrington eyeing the unattended food from the foot of the couch. His pupils expanded until there was barely a hint of iris around them.