The First Fight: The Weight of Magic, Episode 5

by Lana Melyan

  “Yeah, that’s what worries me,” said Brian.

  “The mansion hasn’t been in my name for a long time. Maybe that’ll put them off track,” said Nate. “But Nicky is right. I can’t leave her alone. Also, River Stones is a small town. If a bunch of new people suddenly show up, we’ll notice.” He glanced at Logan and Connie. “We just have to keep our eyes open.”

  “We should’ve wiped their memories of you too,” said Sam. “Why didn’t you?”

  “They were expecting me here. Who else would’ve done what we did? They know I’m the one behind it,” said Nate. “And also because we want them to know that it was us who took away their witches’ powers. We laid low for a little while, bought ourselves some time to get back on our feet. But there are still only a few of us, and we’re an easy prey for them. So before they come and pick us off one by one, we have to assure them they haven’t destroyed us, that we’re strong and will fight back if they come after us. Let them take some time to figure out that spell they think I cast to strip eight witches of their powers. Might keep them busy for a long while.”

  “That actually could truly frighten them,” said Brian. “For them, losing their powers would be worse than death. We’ll keep an eye on the New Orleans house and let you know if they show up.” He checked his watch. “We should go."

  A few minutes later we all met in the motel’s parking lot. After saying her goodbyes, Kate got into her car and drove away, looking sad.

  When we arrived at the airport, we still had some time, and we went to the cafe to have breakfast. I felt Sam looking at me from time to time, and I suspected that he was waiting for the opportunity to get a minute alone with me. He finally got his chance when, after we finished eating, Brian called Nate aside to have a word with him.

  “If you want to talk to me, you can just say so,” I said to Sam. “You don’t have to wait for a moment when I’m alone. We’re allowed to speak to each other, you know.”

  “Are we? He hovers over you like a hawk. And after what happened in New Orleans, I don’t think he would take it lightly if I pulled you aside for a little private chat.”

  “You’re being silly.”

  “He wasn’t mad at you, was he?”

  “Not me, no. He did try to come after you, but I stopped him. We yelled at each other for about half an hour and . . . we had a bad night, that’s all.”

  “So he’s not jealous?”

  “Maybe he’s a bit suspicious about you, but he trusts me, and he knows it will never happen again.”

  “Never say never.” Sam jerked his shoulder.

  “And, you’re being silly again.” I sighed. “Sam, when you get back home, open your eyes and look around. I’m pretty sure you’ll see a lot of other girls. Especially with such a stream of new tourists every day.”

  “Can you stop that? I’ve seen enough of those tourists, okay?” He rolled up his eyes and heaved a breath. “I’m sorry. I know you love him, and I’m just being . . . I just wanted to say if you need any help, or you notice that something isn’t right in River Stones, call me and I’ll be there. Or come to me, and I’ll do everything I can to help Nate protect you. Because I care about you just as much as he does. All I want to know is that you’re safe.”

  The voice coming from the speakers made an announcement.

  “Nicky,” I heard Nate’s voice. “That’s our flight. We have to go.”

  I nodded to him.

  “Thanks.” I said to Sam, and I suddenly felt sad. He can’t do this to himself. Would it help if I punched him?

  I hugged him.

  “Promise me you’ll call me if something goes wrong,” he said into my ear.

  “I promise.” I pulled back, and his blue eyes looked into mine with longing.

  “Take care.” He sent the words after me as I walked away.

  I looked back and waved to him and Brian. Connie and Logan said their goodbyes too. When I reached Nate, he put his arm around my shoulder and led me to the gate.

  “If you say anything,” I said ominously.

  “I’m not.” He turned away so I wouldn’t see his grin.

  “If you make any of those dumb jokes of yours again, I swear—”

  “I’m not gonna.”

  “No?” I tilted my head, looking at him sideways. “Good.” I ran my hand up his back and clapped it twice.

  “No, I’m not,” he said, now looking back at me. “I’m not angry with him anymore. But of course, it’s because I have my selfish reasons. He loves you, and I understand that, and I also know that because of that, if anything happens to me, he will be there for you, that he would die before he let anything happen to you. So no, I’m not angry with him.”

  “Let’s hope it never comes to that.”

  “But just so you know, I’ll rip his lips off if they come near yours again.”

  I laughed. Grinning, he pulled me closer.

  11

  A few days had passed since we got back from Tampa, but the events of that day were still fresh in my mind. We won the fight. We got lucky that time, but what if something had gone wrong? What if something happened to me the next time we faced the Order? Nate was immortal, and he would most definitely make it through. Shouldn’t I, just in case, prepare some information for him, like my dad did for me? Or at least give him some of my blood?

  Even if I gave him my blood, how would he find the tomb without the map? And even with my blood, Nate wouldn’t be able to get into the vault to get the rest of things he’ll need to finish the mission. The piece of the map, the page from Joseph’s journal, Kenneth’s books, and the sword. And I couldn’t just hand them over because having those things out of the vault wouldn’t be safe.

  There was a way to increase my chances of survival, but Nate wouldn’t like it, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to do it either. Even if I wanted to, would I be able to tap into that kind of dark magic? The kind that required taking someone’s life?

  Friday night Nate and Mr. Lancaster had dinner with me and Gran at our place. After we finished eating, Nate and I drove to the mansion while Mr. Lancaster stayed to spend the rest of the evening with Gran.

  It was chilly outside. I cuddled on the big, soft couch in the living room. Nate poured us wine and kindled the fireplace.

  “You know, I was thinking,” he said, dropping down next to me. “Maybe we can convince Bree to move here, and I can stay with you at your place.”

  “I don’t think she would agree to that.” I shook my head, gazing at him. “She’s very fond of that house.”

  “Then Alan could move to your place. I think he would be happy to.”

  “Aw, you want me to move in with you?” I gave him a teasing smile.

  “Yeah, I want to have you all to myself,” he said with funny, dreamy face. “Call me selfish.”

  I put my wine glass on the coffee table and lay my head in his lap.

  “I would love to,” I said, and he bowed his head to kiss me.

  “But,” I chuckled, “even if Alan would be happy to, it doesn’t mean she’ll say yes.”

  Nate grabbed me under my arms and sat me up.

  “Stop ruining my plan.” His lips sank into mine.

  When I pulled back, I looked into his eyes and put my hands around his face.

  “I love you, and I like to see you happy, and I really don’t want to ruin anything. But I need to ask you something.”

  “Yes?” he said, looking curious.

  “Nate.” I drew back to my corner of the couch. “I was wondering, what if . . .” No, maybe I should say it differently. “You see, after all this . . . I was thinking . . .” I should’ve prepared better.

  “Nicky, spit it out already. You’re scaring me.”

  “What if I die?” I fired at him.

  Leaning his elbow on the back of the couch, he pressed his two fingers to his mouth, staring at me.

  “Where did this come from? Is this some kind of affect from Tampa?”

  “Yes, and no. And . .
.” I took a deep breath, then like a machine gun, I started shooting at him all my thoughts about my blood, and the vault, and about how everything would go to hell if something happened to me.

  “So, what are you saying, Nicky?” He clenched his teeth. “Huh? What is it you are trying to say?”

  I pulled my knees up to my chest, locked my arms around my legs, and stared at him.

  “Are you out of your mind?” He glared at me.

  “What?” I shrugged. “If there’s an easy way, maybe, without killing anyone. . . ?”

  “No. There isn’t. Subject is closed.” He jumped to his feet.

  “No, it’s not. First I want you to explain to me why it makes you so angry.”

  “Nicky, you’re talking about becoming immortal. Do you even understand what that means?”

  “I do. I’ve read the books, watched the movies, I know all about it. Is this the part where you tell me that I’ll never get old, have kids, bla-bla-bla?”

  “You think this is a joke? What if one day you change your mind? There’s no going back from this. And yes, one day you might want to have a kid, but you would never be able to. You’re only eighteen, you haven’t even finished school yet.”

  “You said that you want us to be together. So, can you have children?”

  “No. This isn’t about me.”

  “It’s not? Then who am I going to have a kid with? Huh?” I burst out in anger. “Because I love you, and I want to be with you. Answer me. How am I going to have a kid? You want me to ask Sam? He would be happy to do the job.”

  “This isn’t funny,” he snapped.

  “I know. That’s why I’m not laughing.”

  “Nicky.” He sat down next to me, his look soft now. “You can’t do this. To do it, you’ll have to kill a few people. At least one. It’s a very dark spell that requires a human sacrifice. No one can do it for you. It has to be you.”

  “You think I was asking you to do it for me?” I stared at him. “To kill someone? Nate, it doesn’t matter who does that. Those people would still be dead. And you know I wouldn’t let you do that even if you could.”

  “Then, as I said—the subject is closed because there is no other way.”

  I bit my lip. “When Chuck said, ‘haven’t you done the same to become immortal?,’ you said, ‘that’s the question, isn’t it.’ What did you mean by that?”

  “Nicky.” Nate shook his head. “Please.”

  “How did you do it, Nate?”

  He got up and turned away. I could see how hard it was for him to talk about this, but sooner or later we had to, and I went on.

  “I want to know.” I dropped my legs from the couch, and sitting straight with my hands locked together in my lap, I looked up at him. “Tell me. I already know you had to kill people. But I can see there’s something you did differently.”

  He started pacing.

  “Okay, let me ask this. How strong is your spell?”

  “It’s strong.” His face darkened. He stopped and looked at me vigorously. “Much stronger than Chuck’s. And I don’t think the sword would be able to kill me until it’s ready.”

  My heartbeat was rising. You were the one who started this.

  “Are you saying that you killed thirteen witches for your spell?”

  “No,” he said, folding his hands behind his back.

  “Then how many?”

  He held me with his piercing gaze for a moment. “One.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “The spell becomes much stronger if you seal it with the blood of someone who belongs to your own bloodline. The closer the kin, the stronger the spell.” He said it coldly, gazing at me without blinking.

  Oh God. he killed someone from his family.

  “How close?” I asked, feeling the cold shiver run down my spine. “Who was it, Nate?” I asked, trying to keep my voice firm.

  “My mother.”

  “No,” I gasped. “No,” I repeated, shaking my head. “You said your mother died after being tortured by Kenneth’s followers.”

  I pulled my legs up again and pushed myself deeper into the couch. Leaning against the cushions, I grabbed one from the side and pressed it to my chest, holding it tightly to stop my hands from trembling.

  “She was about to die, yes, but she wasn’t dead yet.” He stood, staring at me. “Nicky, you look scared.”

  “What? No, I’m not. It’s just . . . it was unexpected.” I tightened my hold on the cushion. “I want to know,” I said, keeping my voice firm. “I can handle the truth.”

  He sat down on the coffee table and gazed at me.

  “I told you I decided to become immortal after my both parents were killed. That was a lie. I decided it right after my father’s death. I loved and respected my father; he was my hero. And after they killed him, I made my decision.

  “I’d never killed anyone before, but I wanted revenge. I planned to do the spell by killing the Order’s witches. I looked through my father’s grimoires. I knew one of them contained dark spells, and that’s why he never showed it to me. That’s where I saw the spell. I wished he had used it, or any other spell to protect himself, so he could still be alive. I was young. I didn’t want to think about the reasons he didn’t.

  “As I told you before, my mother and Joseph were captured. When we got them out, everyone said my mother’s wounds were severe. I panicked. I said I’d find a way to save her and took her home. I started looking through every grimoire we had, trying to find a spell that would stop her from dying.

  “Then, barely breathing, she called me to her and said that she had a confession to make.” Nate looked down, pausing for a second. “She only said a few words, but it was enough to change my mind, and instead of saving her, I put a dagger through her heart.”

  I stared at him in shock. Was it about Joseph? He couldn’t have killed her for that. He wouldn’t.

  “What did she say, Nate?” I asked with trembling lips.

  “She said she had done something, and that she didn’t want to go with that on her conscious, but she was also very ashamed to tell me the truth.” He looked down again, like he was still processing his mother’s words. “I told her she was too weak, and she needed to stop talking. Then she said one day I’d find out the truth and hate her for it, but she loved me and hadn’t meant to hurt anyone.

  “When I asked her what she meant, she said she had been dishonest and betrayed both of us, me and my father. I couldn’t believe it. I asked her what she did, but she kept staring at me and asking for forgiveness.

  “I got mad and said I couldn’t forgive her if I didn’t know what she had done. I tried to recall the events before and after my father’s death, but all I could remember was that she wasn’t there most of the time. The questions started popping up in my head. Where was she? Where was she going when she was sneaking out? Was she the one who betrayed the coven? The one who stole the map? Was she the reason my father got killed?

  “I started shouting my questions at her. And to my horror, she nodded. She tried to say something, but the blood started leaking out from her mouth, and she couldn’t speak. She just stared at me with horror in her eyes. But I didn’t feel sorry for her anymore. My blood boiled from rage. I couldn’t believe it. My mother was the traitor both covens were looking for. I glanced at the dagger on the wall, and when the thought struck me, I didn’t think twice. I found my dad’s book with the spell and grabbed the dagger.

  “My father died for the mission, and I swore to avenge his death. And I started with my mother. Saying the words, ‘this is for my father,’ I did it.” He shook his head. “I was young, hotheaded, and angry. Now I’m not even sure if I understood her right. Why would she do that? It has tortured me my entire life.”

  “Oh God, Nate.” I stared at him, my eyes welling up with tears. So he knew. My father’s words echoed in my mind: That page contains another piece of crucial information. You have to keep it a secret even from Nathan; when you read it you’ll unde
rstand why.

  There was more to this story, but I couldn’t tell it to Nate yet. Josephine wouldn’t just betray everyone. She must’ve had a reason. I knew I’d find the approval in her letters. I also knew that Joseph forgave Josefine, and he wouldn’t do that if there was no good reason behind her actions.

  Nate got up again.

  “Nate, it happened very long ago,” I said, trying to comfort him, even though I knew what he did was horrible.

  “Long ago?” He glared at me. “It doesn’t matter how long ago it happened. Nicky, you can’t just close your eyes to the fact that I killed my mother.”

  “I’m not. I’m just trying to understand your actions. And you said it yourself, you were young, and angry, and—”

  “And what? You don’t seem surprised by what I just told you. I said it was my mother who betrayed us, and all you worry about is me?”

  “Yes, because you feel sorry for what you did. And you said you might have mis—” I stopped. I’m only making it worse. I got up too. “Nate, you didn’t really kill her, she was already—” God, what kind of idiot am I? Knowing I knew something he didn’t made it so much harder to find the right words.

  Maybe if I tell him that Joseph knew and he forgave her, and that he even . . . No. I couldn’t do that either. And even if I told Nate everything I knew, it would only bring him relief for a split second before it made him feel even worse for the crime he had committed.

  “You’re trying to justify my actions because you’re looking for a way to forgive me,” he shouted. “You can’t forgive me. Not this time.”

  “Remember what you said to me that night you took me to the cabin? You said there were still things about you I didn’t know, but you weren’t afraid for me to find out anymore. And you didn’t need to be.”