Alphas Unbounded

by Terra Wolf

  The bald man turned and closed the trunk. He stepped into the driver’s side of the car and peeled the vehicle back onto the road toward the city.

  There was a tight knot in my chest and a sickening pit in my stomach. I waited until the car was out of sight.

  I inhaled a deep breath, and I whispered, “Illuminate.”

  The small orb of light levitated in my palm while I descended the rocky terrain of the canyon walls. The sphere of bouncing flames produced enough light for me to make out the rocks of the canyon.

  I floated along the canyon wall, making a zigzag pattern with the orb. The light reflected off something shiny and gold. I recognized Holden’s watch. He was wrapped around a gnarled bush and wedged between rocks. I didn’t care about the consequences or what effects my actions had. Without thinking, I lowered myself to the canyon floor and dropped to his side. I grabbed his wrist and ran my fingers to his neck to search for a pulse.

  There was no pulse. No ragged breath from his lips. Nothing.

  Holden Chadsworth was dead.

  Eight

  My flight back to the Starlight was heavy with the cloak of death. The images of Holden and Helen, his handsome smile and devilish treatment of her, the intense passion he shared with Simone, and now the image of his lifeless body at the bottom of a canyon kept replaying. My eyes started welling with tears again, but this time it wasn’t from the desert wind.

  It was more than I wanted. I had searched for a story, but I wasn’t looking for a murder. I wiped at my eyes. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to wash the feel of Holden’s cool skin from my fingertips.

  I needed sleep. I wasn’t quite sure what time it was. It seemed like hours ago when I watched the sun set in the Chadworths’ apartment. How long had it been since I started this Time Spell? My head was pounding. I hoped the Starlight would have an open room so I could crash for the night and regroup.

  I couldn’t leave 1968. Not yet. Not without finding out what had led to Holden’s murder.

  I took a quick peek at the reservation book while the front desk clerk, assisted a disgruntled couple.

  With one eye on the arguing trio and the other on the reservation list, I scanned the handwritten notes. Scribbled next to Thatcher Family, Check In Thursday at noon were the words Hold Room.

  Perfect! There was an open room on the floor below the Chadsworths’ penthouse. Close enough to keep an eye on Helen while I worked through Holden’s murder. It gave me chills thinking about it, but I had to stay.

  After a restless night’s sleep in the Thatcher family suite, I awoke with no more clarity than when I turned out the last lamp. The shock of what I had seen unfold in the desert evaporated and was replaced with a committed sense of purpose. I wanted to know why Holden Chadsworth was dead. Who was the bald man? How were Helen and Simone involved? My witchy instincts started to tingle again.

  It was time to visit Helen.

  The most important duty of the time spell was to erase any trace of my visits through time. Ripple effects and changing history terrified me.

  I faced the room, lifted both arms, and whispered, “Erase.”

  At once, the room twitched and ticked. The towels in the bathroom folded and draped neatly on the racks. The water droplets in the shower vanished, the smudges on the cup disappeared, and the sheets and flower-adorned comforter returned to their original creased state. Pleased with the spell, I performed a final inspection. The room was ready for the Thatcher family, and no one would ever know Ivy Grace had been here.

  I scanned the hallway through the peephole. I only spotted morning copies of the Sun News rolled in front of each door. I cracked the door open enough to slip through then turned toward the stairwell doors.

  With only one flight of stairs to climb, I made it to the penthouse level in less than a minute. The hallway in front of the Chadsworths’ apartment was littered with matching sets of green luggage edged with white piping. Valets walked in and out of the penthouse, loaded with bags. The security guards huddled close, whispering to each other.

  “Henry, get all of this to the airport, won’t you?” Helen called from the other side of the suite’s heavy doors.

  She stepped through the doorway like a queen on her way to her coronation. She was dressed in a long-sleeved white dress, which stopped just above her knee and was fashioned with a matching white belt. Her hair was pinned under an oversized white hat that was tipped to the side. Her eyes were concealed behind a gigantic pair of tortoise sunglasses. She buttoned a pair of leather gloves and pinched her pearl-studded earrings to ensure they were tightly fastened.

  “Of course, Ms. Chadsworth.” Henry smiled at her. “We’ll take care of all of your belongings and meet you at the airport.”

  Henry was a short, middle-aged man with a tint of gray hair creeping above his ears and an array of wrinkles around his eyes.

  Helen leaned to whisper in his ear; she was considerably taller than he was. I couldn’t hear the exchange, so I stepped closer to listen.

  I froze. There it was again. She looked in my direction, right at me. I stepped against the wall, almost colliding with a hatbox. I glanced at my arms to make sure they were still shimmering from the fade spell. Everything about her stare unnerved me. My skin grew cold.

  She turned her attention to Henry, and whispered, “Make sure my driver doesn’t mention my last stop to anyone before I go.”

  Henry acknowledged the secret request by nodding and stepped back to let Helen enter the elevator. “Of course, ma’am.”

  The workers continued the packing, stacking, and moving of Helen’s belongings while the elevator carried her to the lobby floor. The doors closed before I could slip between them and follow her. I didn’t want her out of my sight. I exited through the side stairwell and launched myself into the staircase. I needed to reach the first level before Helen left the building.

  I rushed to the lobby just in time to see her glide through the Starlight’s grand lobby, nodding her head at guests and smiling at the desk clerks. Her white dress dazzled in the sun as she pulled the brim of her hat closer to her face to shield her delicate skin from the rays. The driver crossed in front of her to open the car door. She climbed in and the car sped away from the Starlight.

  I had never run so fast as I hurdled toward the first clearing I could find. The sidewalks were littered with tourists. Finding a spot where I wouldn’t hit someone on my ascent was difficult. I settled on a flowerbed, and propelled upward.

  From the sky, I tracked Helen’s car to the Diamond Towers. The Cadillac turned into the parking garage. I followed the car as it careened through the garage, knowing she would stop at the lowest level. Right on target, the car slowed and parked in front of the secret elevator.

  Helen stepped out, buzzed the elevator, and waited. The elevator car was too small to attempt a ride with her, and if I tried to call the elevator for a second trip, it would certainly arouse suspicion. Confident Helen would arrive in the closet, I sprinted to the Diamond Towers’ lobby in the hopes I could enter the suite through Simone’s foyer.

  Nine

  Simone’s suite felt warm in the morning sun. It was in opposition to everything else I was feeling. The light bounced off framed marquee posters of Simone lining the walls. I hadn’t taken the time to notice them on my first visit. Simone in a black bathing suit winked, with one hand on her hip, in the first poster. In another, she was holding a martini glass. The last photograph in the trio showed Simone lounging on the top of a baby grand piano in a high-cut red dress, probably the dress I had seen Holden rip to tatters last night.

  I followed the sounds of glass clinking into the next room to discover the two women smiling. They sipped glasses of bubbly champagne.

  “Oh heavens, Simone, what happened to your mirror? That looks dreadful!” Helen crossed the room to take a closer look at Simone’s vanity. “Are you all right? Did Holden hurt you last night? You said everything was smooth as silk.”

  Simone gave a girli
sh giggle. “Well, I had to have one last go at him, before, you know…”

  “Really, Simone, are you that crass that you’d fuck my husband on the last night?”

  Helen was visibly annoyed. She straightened her up-do with the palms of her hand, and set the champagne glass down on the vanity to turn and face Simone.

  “I didn’t have a lot of options to keep him occupied. We never really talked that much anyway. That wasn’t our style. All he wanted to do was spend our time in bed and—”

  Helen cut her off. “I understand. You don’t need to explain any further. I knew who I was doing business with when I recruited you for this arrangement. You’ve been fucking my husband for months. Why would I think you’d stop?”

  Simone pushed her lower lip out and pouted while Helen scowled in her direction.

  Helen’s sigh filled the room. “It doesn’t matter now, does it? Let’s finish the deal. I’ve got a plane to catch and a car waiting for me downstairs.”

  She prodded Simone with her gaze, and the mistress responded by removing the shattered mirror over her vanity. Nestled in the wall was a safe. Simone dialed right, left, then right again. The lever clicked, and she opened the door to reveal the black leather bag I had seen her carry out of the suite last night. Rather ceremoniously, she walked to the bed and scattered the bag’s contents in a circle.

  Stones of all different sizes flickered and threw rainbow prisms around the room. There were brooches, pendants, rings, and bracelets encrusted with brilliant jewels.

  The women looked at each other and raised their glasses to the ceiling. “To the VonRue diamonds.” Their laughter trickled through the suite.

  Chills cascaded down my body. I covered my mouth so I didn’t gasp out loud. I was witnessing one of the largest diamond heists in history, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

  Ten

  Sullen’s Grove, Present Day

  The flames had quieted to glowing embers and a chill filled the room as I finished telling my story. I rubbed my arms up and down to the rhythm of the clock. I waited for a reaction. Any kind of reaction.

  Jack stared at me. The last log cracked in half and hit the bottom pile of ashes.

  His voice erupted through the silence.

  “For Christ’s sake, Ivy! You expect me to believe this? You’re a witch? And you time travel? You want me to believe you witnessed a murder and a diamond heist?” His eyes hardened. “There’s someone out there who is threatening us. Threatening you and me and our families, and you make up some bullshit story?”

  My chest tightened. I shook my head. “No, Jack. It’s the truth.”

  He stormed out of his chair. “I don’t believe you. I don’t believe this.” He threw his hands in the air. “I’m supposed to believe that there’s magic. You travel through time with magic. What the hell, Ivy? A witch?”

  He stopped and his eyes locked on the floor. He couldn’t look at me. “I’m going to get some more wood, don’t move. We are going over this again when I get back. All of it. And I want to hear something that make sense.”

  He huffed past me and I heard the back door slam shut.

  Well, I guess that could have gone worse. I let my shoulders sag and slid into the chair now that he was out of the room. I didn’t know what his reaction would be to the story. Of all of the circumstances imaginable, this wasn’t how I had ever envisioned telling him.

  For two years, I had dreams of us wrapped up in front of some cozy cabin fireplace in big quilts, our clothes strewn all over the house, drinking wine and laughing. We had probably been there all day, making love on the floor, stopping to feed each other strawberries and cereal, telling each other stories, and talking about how we knew from the moment we had met that we would end up like this, on the floor of a cabin, naked. And I’d just tell him.

  I would say, “Jack, you know all of those funny little things I do and how I know all of these little stories no one else knows? Well, that’s because I have magic. I’m a witch.”

  And in this little fantasy of mine, he wouldn’t answer, he wouldn’t look shocked or disgusted or angry or scared, he would pull me under him with his strong arms, brush back my hair, and kiss me until we both needed to come up for air.

  It was supposed to be perfect and magical. Everything this wasn’t.

  The armful of logs Jack carried dropped to the floor, and he grabbed the fire poker to stir the dying embers. I was afraid to speak. Afraid he would start yelling again, or worse, afraid he would leave.

  Once the splintered wood started to catch and warmth returned to the room, he headed for the bar and poured another round of drinks. He handed one to me.

  “I changed my mind.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I don’t want to hear anymore of your stories. Show me.” He looked me straight in the eyes. “If there is magic, show me, Ivy. I want to see it.”

  I took the glass from him, but I was shaken by his request. “Show you my magic?”

  “Yes. If you want me to believe you.”

  “I can’t. It’s not like that.”

  “Show me or I’m calling the police.” His words were firm.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to show you. It’s only that I’ve never shown anyone before. I mean not anyone human. It would break every rule that I live by, that my family lives by.” I sipped the drink, trying to stall. “I can’t do it.”

  “Do you realize how insane this sounds?”

  “You’re asking too much. You have to trust me. I told you what happened at the Starlight. We can figure the rest of it out together.”

  I didn’t want to sound desperate. I wanted to sound strong and confident, but my pleas came out like whimpers.

  “We only have a few days to figure this out, or they’re going to start picking off our families one by one. If you really expect me to believe this convoluted story, you show me.”

  He tipped back his shot of bourbon and looked at me. He planted himself in the doorway of the study and waited.

  I placed my drink on the coffee table next to the letter and stood in the center of the room. My pulse was racing and I bit my lip trying to control my breathing. No non-magical person had seen my magic before. This was a secret I shouldn’t break.

  If I showed Jack my witchy side, part of the essence that bound me to my family would loosen. What he was asking was more than I had ever dared to share with a human. My identity had always been a secret. I thought it always would be.

  Lives were at stake and I had already decided to trust Jack when I told him about my time spell. I was out of options.

  I focused on my hand and lifted my palm in front of my chest.

  “Illuminate,” I whispered.

  A soft glowing orb of light formed in my hand, hovering in the air.

  I let it float for a few seconds, just long enough for Jack to study it. It bobbed up and down, illuminating my face and the space around my hands.

  “Extinguish.”

  I placed my free hand on top and pressed until the orb’s light disintegrated. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet his and I felt a tear sliding down my cheek.

  I had broken my family’s bond. I had shared my magic.

  Eleven

  Jack didn’t move. He stood anchored to the floor with his arms crossed.

  I was afraid of what I had done. Afraid that I had terrified him. Afraid of the consequences of sharing the spell. What did I expect him to do after I showed him a magical glowing orb in the palm of my hand?

  I had studied him for two years. The way he analyzed the words I wrote. The way he could convince me one flip of a sentence would change everything. The way he coached me to take chances chapter after chapter. He challenged me. Pushed me to be better.

  Now I had no idea what reaction I would get. Everything between us was different. He knew the truth.

  I waited for him to say something.

  “How…how could you make that light? I’ve never seen anything like
that in my life.”

  I bit my lip. There was no way to explain the magic. It was so deeply ingrained in my being it couldn’t be separated. I was born with it. Magic coursed through my veins and my soul just as certain as the air I breathed.

  “Jack I-I—” I suddenly felt exposed. Bare. As if he had seen me through the window of my room. I wanted to undo it. Reverse the time. Take the orb back. Go back to an hour ago when he thought I was a regular writer. A normal girl. But I couldn’t.

  “It came from your palm.” He was still focused on the orb and its light. “It just appeared.”

  I nodded. “Yes. It’s magic. One of the many talents I have.” I tried to smile, but I felt regret and the guilt. The guilt was the worst.

  I couldn’t read Jack. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking about the orb or me.

  He left his post in the doorway and walked toward me. I stiffened as he put a hand on each of my arms. He gave me a slight squeeze.

  “You were right. We can’t take this to the police. We can’t tell anyone else.”

  I nodded, my eyes following his.

  “You’re a witch.”

  “I am,” I whispered.

  “Then you can stop them? You can do something to save my sister? You can use your magic.”

  I didn’t know who wrote the letter or sent the death threats, but I wanted to lie through my teeth and tell him everything would be ok. I could protect his sister. I could stop the evil from ruining our lives. I could save all of us.

  But the truth was barreling through me like a runaway train. “I don’t know, Jack.”

  He sighed. “I will do anything to keep them from getting to her.” He paused and stared at a picture in the corner bookcase. “Emily, her name is Emily. She doesn’t deserve this. I have to protect her from these people. Help me. Help me keep her safe. Can you do that?”

  The feelings he had for his sister outweighed anything he thought about the revelation I had shared with him. He didn’t care if I was a witch or a waitress. He wanted to protect her. He needed to.