Conjured

by Chelsea Luna

  “I might have thought you were attacking me,” I said quietly. “Sorry about the pinches.”

  James laughed. “I knew it. I knew it.”

  “So what?” I said a little defensively. “You thought I was so unholy that I couldn’t even step into a church.” My defensive stand didn’t last long. I was laughing before I could finish my own sentence.

  “Guilty as charged. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry, too,” I said.

  We drove in comfortable silence on the busy expressway. Inbound and outbound traffic near Boston was packed with New Year’s Eve travel.

  “I hope the answers you’re looking for are in there,” James said.

  “Me too.”

  I clutched the journal. I was dying to read it, but I wanted to do so in the privacy of my own room. There was no telling what I’d find and I didn’t want an audience if I lost it emotionally.

  We reached Hazel Cove around four o’clock, but the sky was already darkening for the night. James pulled into my driveway.

  “Don’t worry too much about Victor,” I said. “I know it’s disturbing that he has someone following you, but remember, he’s not out to harm you. I’m the bad guy, remember?”

  James smiled. “That’s what everyone keeps telling me. But here I am.”

  I held the journal in the air. “Thanks for helping me. I owe you big time.”

  “Nah, you don’t. Good luck reading it, but be careful. It might not be reading for the light hearted if I knew my Grandpa Jonah very well.”

  “Goodnight James. Happy New Year.” I closed the door and jogged up to the porch.

  Emma was sleeping in her room with Scooby. I rushed to my bedroom and locked my door. I hopped onto the bed, not bothering to take off my coat and shoes. I was too excited. Too eager to read what was inside.

  The book held nearly one thousand pages and, by the looks of it, was ninety percent full. The journal spanned over thirty years. Jonah’s elaborate handwriting covered entire pages, front and back. It could take weeks to get through all the entries.

  I literally had, in my hands, the Gamma handbook for the better part of three decades. There was no telling what was written inside. All of Gamma’s deepest, darkest secrets. All of their crimes. Everything.

  Of course, right now, all I cared about was the early spring of 1994. A few weeks before my father went missing.

  CHAPTER 17

  Journal of Jonah Abraham Van Curen

  February 23rd, 1994

  I had an unexpected visitor today at the Church. He must be crazy to come here searching for me. Shouldn’t I be the one searching and hunting him? He’s come to negotiate. He knows the law has been broken and it’s only a matter of time before we enforce it. He seems to think we can make a deal, like we’re businessmen. It’s unbelievable that he has the gall to bring his tainted soul into my place of worship. If only he would have burst into flames when he stepped foot into my sanctuary!

  Doesn’t he know who he’s addressing? He must, for he came to me to plead for his unborn child’s life. I sent him away before he could actually state his case. I’ve heard it all before….

  I must admit - I am very amused that he would seek me out in person, on my territory, to offer a deal.

  This Ethan Longfellow is one peculiar person.

  March 1st, 1994

  The decree that one shall not create a pureblooded witch has never been a gray area. The penalty is immediate death upon the child’s delivery. Has it not been so for thousands of years? Why does Ethan Longfellow think he can be the exception to this rule? He desires to purpose an agreement that, according to Ethan, will be exclusively beneficial to my own needs and causes. I hate to say that I am a bit curious. I am dealing with the Longfellow heir. Doesn’t their wealth move mountains?

  March 5th, 1994

  I’ve just met with Ethan Longfellow. He insists that he is in this endeavor alone. Emma Ross is unaware that he has been meeting with me. That brings me pleasure. I loathe the Ross family. That, in itself, is yet another reason why I feel so strongly against what Ethan is proposing. This unborn child will not only be a pureblood, but it will be a Longfellow and a Ross. Simply writing the name “Ross” makes me seethe with disgust.

  Furthermore, it is important that no one knows that I am entertaining the idea for which Mr. Longfellow is pleading for. If anyone in the Great Fraternity would come upon this piece of information…well, let’s just say that I am endangering myself and my sons.

  The meeting with Mr. Longfellow was some-what productive. Of course, we are far apart in the bargaining aspect. I feel we may be able to reach a deal, which, of course, will benefit me and the Great Fraternity.

  While I will not reveal the details yet, as there is more negotiating to be had, I will say that Mr. Longfellow is ready to spare no expense for this unborn abomination. Curious that one could be so attached to something that is, at the moment, growing in the womb of a Ross….

  March 7, 1994

  I have come to an agreement with Ethan Longfellow regarding his unborn child. I never thought the day would come that I would negotiate with my enemy, but, as I will detail as follows, the deal is most advantageous to me and the Great Fraternity.

  I have agreed not to kill the unborn child that is currently growing in Emma Ross. Yet. I must underscore the “yet.” I have pardoned the child for eighteen years. At the time the child turns eighteen, where it will undoubtedly receive an influx of power that I have not yet seen in my lifetime, I will immediately deal with the child. Thus, Ethan Longfellow has bought his abomination of a child eighteen years of life.

  Bought, indeed.

  In return, Ethan Longfellow will transfer a sum in the amount of $500,000 to my account in Switzerland. I must note that the money will come in handy for the Great Fraternity, tainted as it is by Longfellow blood.

  In addition, Ethan Longfellow will disappear. He will not be seen or heard from again from any member of his family, his coven or his friends. It will be as if he never existed. The child will be left under the watchful eye of the Great Fraternity. This was a major discussion point in our negotiations and one that Ethan was most opposed to. But, alas, I was victorious.

  Upon Ethan’s disappearance, Victor will step in as the role of father and husband to Emma Ross. The idea of having my youngest son consort with a Ross makes the bile rise in my throat, but it is necessary. Of course, William would be the better pick to deal with such a burden, but William is still -unfortunately - with that wretched wife of his. And with the arrival of William’s child in a few months, Victor was the logical and necessary choice.

  Ethan was not happy on this point, but I assured him that no harm would come to the child for eighteen years. Victor would act as a father and keep an eye on our agreement. The child will grow up ignorant of what it is. We must keep a close eye on the child. It is imperative that we hide its nature from it.

  All in all, I think it was a very successful night.

  March 10, 1994

  Ethan has requested a slight change to our agreement. Instead of a disappearance, he asked that we fake his death. He is adamant that the Longfellow and Ross families will not give up searching for him and that is a point I agree with. I don’t need old Claudia Ross sticking her nose where it does not belong.

  We shall fake his death.

  Now the Devil is in the details….

  March 15, 1994

  The money hit my account this morning. Everything is in place. Ethan Longfellow will be “abducted” from his house and his death will be faked. He will be buried in the Hazel Cove Cemetery. Again, I have Ethan’s word that he will disappear, never to be seen or heard from again, though I suspect he will head for Europe. I am sure he will be searching for information regarding Liam’s whereabouts.

  The events will take place tomorrow. I am eager to read the newspapers and see how our story will develop. Ethan will see Emma tonight for the last time. He will bid goodbye and explain - in vague terms
- that he is leaving forever, the child is safe, the child must never know what it is and that Victor will now be involved.

  Emma must keep this secret. If Emma shall break any of those mandates, she and her unborn child will pay with their lives.

  CHAPTER 18

  My father cut a deal with Jonah Van Curen.

  And Emma knew.

  All this time. She knew and she never said a word.

  I closed my eyes and waited for the flashes of red to subside. Anger bubbled inside of me and I knew that, at the moment, I was extremely dangerous to be around. I had to get a grip. I had to calm down.

  I flung my boots off. They bounced against the closet door with a loud bang. Good. I hoped Emma heard it.

  Emma. Saying her name made my blood boil. I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  I stormed into the living room. Even with all the commotion and my unnecessary theatrics, Emma didn’t notice me. She was staring at the blank television screen, dazing off into her dream world.

  Her complete lack of perception angered me even more. How could she be so selfish? How could she know so much and tell me so little? Why was she always checking out of my life? First it was alcohol and now it was this comatose act. Didn’t I deserve a mother? Didn’t I need my mother?

  The tremors vibrated off my body. The energy pulsated through my veins, ready to erupt at any moment. I had to keep cool. No supernatural accidents. No mishaps. Stay calm.

  “Mom,” I said quietly.

  She didn’t move.

  “Mom.”

  She slowly swiveled her head in my direction. A complete look of tranquility covered her face. She was perfectly content in her zoned out world. I guess it was easier for her to function if she didn’t feel anything. Numbness had to be better than pain.

  After what I’d been through in the past months and everything I went through today, the sight of her peacefulness enraged me. To be honest, it even made me a little jealous. Why couldn’t I ignore everything? Why couldn’t I block out the bad? How much easier would my life be if I hid under the blankets every time something went wrong?

  Emma blinked.

  “How could you?”

  No response. No change in facial features. Nothing.

  “How could you?” I clenched my fists to stop the vibrating in my fingertips.

  “I have no idea what you’re screaming about,” she said slowly pulling herself out of her self-induced stupor.

  “About dad.”

  Alarm flashed through her dull eyes. Her forehead creased, making her look much older than she was. She leaned forward like she was about to make a run for it. “Victor? Is Victor here? Did he find us?”

  The fact that I’d said “dad” and she assumed I was referring to Victor, pissed me off even more. The three mirrors on the wall behind the couch rattled. “I said DAD! Not that vile man you let into our lives!”

  She flinched.

  “Ethan left us! How could you not tell me?”

  At the mentioning of Ethan’s name, she sprang from the couch and made a beeline for her bedroom. When it came to fight or flight, Emma always chose to run. She never faced anything. She was always running.

  Emma darted down the hallway.

  Before I knew what was happening, my hand flew up. I promised myself that I’d never do magic in front of Emma, but all bets were off now. I needed answers. And she had them. She’d had the answers for seventeen years.

  I couldn’t think of a better time to use levitation.

  The energy pulsated through my system. It was begging to be unharnessed. I flicked my wrist. Emma’s bedroom door slammed shut just as she reached the threshold. She jumped back with a yelp.

  She turned on her heel and lunged for my bedroom. The door slammed in her face before she could get inside. She ran towards the bathroom at the end of the hall. I levitated that door shut, too.

  Scooby barked at all the commotion.

  Emma’s shoulders slumped. After a second, her body went rigid. Tense. She finally turned around to face me. Light green eyes flashed. Her thin little nose flared. She was pissed. No one hated magic more than my mother.

  And even though she was furious at me for using magic on her, it was the first real emotion I’d seen on her face in weeks. Since the night she attacked me at the country club.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to do that.” I lowered my hand to my side. “But you were going to run away again. I have to know what happened to Ethan.”

  “You think you can use that stuff on me?”

  “I didn’t want to.”

  “Did Vanessa teach you how to do that?” Emma snarled when she said her sister’s name. She took a step forward. Her body shook with anger. She took another step and I wasn’t sure if she was going to attack me or not. It wouldn’t have been the first time.

  I backed up and put my hands up in surrender. I didn’t want to fight with my mom. I just wanted the truth. “Vanessa taught me how to do that, but I learned a lot of stuff on my own, too.”

  “Are you threatening me?”

  “No! Of course not. I don’t want you to blame Vanessa. Or Grandma. Or yourself for what I am. It’s no one’s fault. And I know you lied about not knowing our family’s history or what I would become. I’m not angry. I just want answers.”

  Her stance relaxed. Her eyes dropped to the carpet. She started laughing hysterically. Was she losing it? Was she going crazy?

  “It is my fault, Alexandria.” Emma exhaled. “And it’s Ethan’s fault for what you are. What you’ll become.”

  “You hate me because I’m pureblooded?”

  “I don’t hate you, but…I can’t do this.” Emma glanced behind me. She was gauging the distance to the front door.

  “Please don’t run away from me again,” I said. “Tell me what happened the last night you saw Ethan.”

  Emma flinched when I said his name.

  “Tell me,” I said. “I need your help. Please.”

  Emma’s eyes roamed to the front door. If she made a run for it, I wouldn’t stop her. I wouldn’t do any more magic around her. It brought up too many bad memories. Her light green eyes skidded from the door and landed on me.

  I must have looked pretty pitiful, because she sighed in resignation. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ethan came to my house late in the night.”

  “Thank you,” I whispered.

  “I still lived at home and, even though I was pregnant and engaged, your grandmother wouldn’t let Ethan come over after eleven o’clock. He would hurl rocks at my window to get my attention if he wanted to come over after curfew.” Emma gave me a weak smile. “Kind of like how Peter would sneak into your bedroom by climbing the tree at our old house.”

  I never knew she was aware of Peter sneaking into my room. I didn’t give her enough credit. Maybe she wasn’t as out of it as I’d suspected.

  “That night, I heard the pebbles against the glass, so I snuck out of the house to meet him behind your grandmother’s garden. That was our meeting spot.”

  My breathing slowed. The pulsating energy running through my veins was subsiding. I sat in the recliner. “What happened then?”

  “Ethan wasn’t himself. He was jittery, like something was wrong. I asked him what was the matter and ….”

  “What?”

  Emma was wobbly on her feet. Before I could stand up to help her, she walked swiftly to the couch and collapsed onto it. She sank back against the cushions.

  “Ethan told me he had to go away to save the baby.” Her hands went to her stomach. “I told him I understood and to give me a second to pack. We knew how much trouble we were in by conceiving you. We knew we wouldn’t be safe. I was ready to go with him. I’d have followed him anywhere. It didn’t matter why or where or how. The three of us would be safe. On the run.”

  The guilt of my own existence punched me in the gut.

  Emma grabbed a tissue from the coffee table. “Ethan had the saddest look on his face. It broke my heart to see him t
hat way. He said we couldn’t run away together. It wouldn’t be safe for the baby. They’d track us down and find us. He told me I couldn’t come with him. He had to go alone. That’s the moment my world started to crumble.”

  Tears freely fell down her cheeks. She wiped at them with the tissue. “He told me to take care of the baby and that I should never mention or let the baby know it was a pureblood. He said he’d worked it all out; made an agreement. The baby would be safe as soon as he left. I didn’t understand how that could be possible, but Ethan told me a man named Victor would come by my house. I was to trust him….” Emma sobbed loudly. “Trust him with our lives.”

  I was unable to speak.

  “Ethan left me, so you could live.”

  There it was.

  The reason my mother had such a conflicting relationship with me. I was to blame. Everything fell apart because of me. I was the reason she hated magic and her roots and her family. I was the reason the love of her life left.

  Emma wiped her face. “But they lied.”

  I sat up. “Who lied?”

  “Whoever Ethan made the deal with. What did you tell me that witch hunter’s group was called? Gamma?”

  “Wait. You didn’t know Gamma was involved in Ethan’s agreement?”

  Emma’s face was splotchy from crying. “I never heard the name ‘Gamma’ until a few weeks ago. Not until you told me they attacked you in the cemetery. I knew witch hunters were out there - your grandmother made sure Vanessa and I were aware of the dangers - but we never broke any rules. We considered hunters more of a legend than an actual threat.”

  “They’re real alright,” I said bitterly.

  “I didn’t know Victor was involved. Ethan told me to trust him, so I did.”

  Nothing made sense. “I don’t understand. What did Gamma lie about?”

  Emma frowned. “They killed Ethan.”