I stuffed my hands in my pockets as we entered the building. Grady spoke to the worker, and I pushed suggestions into his head. After a few minutes, he agreed to call the ferry boat captain. I listened to Grady’s side of the conversation, only understanding a few words, and prayed magic worked via cell phone. Grady handed the device to the attendant, who spoke a few more minutes in Italian and then ended the call.
Grady handed the attendant’s phone to me. “He said the ferry boat captain will be here in half an hour. You can use this first. I have to figure out how to break it to my ex-wife and son that Camille and I are witches.”
I took a seat on a bench, contemplating what to say to my grandparents. “I’ve got to think a bit too.” Passing the phone back to him, I crossed to the window peering out at the dark ocean.
Hating I hadn’t called them since, I remembered my conversation with Nan and Pop the first day we’d arrived in Sardinia a month ago.
“Jude!” Pop’s deep voice sounded warm and welcoming like always. “Didn’t expect to hear from you so soon.”
“Yeah, well, I needed to talk to you. Have you talked to Dad lately?”
“Been over a week, we’re starting to get worried.”
“Yeah, me too.” I peered out at the churning sea, thinking he could be just levels below me, but I had no way to get to him.
“I know about you and Dad. That’s what I’m doing here, becoming a witch.”
“Well, it was bound to happen sometime.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t think we should keep it from you, but it was your dad’s choice. Come home and let me train you.”
“It’s too late for that.” I paced away from the window, trying to abate my anger. Dad deserved my rage, not Pop.
“Jude, about your mom…”
“I don’t want to talk about Mom.” I assumed the phones were tapped, and I couldn’t chance them knowing I was part vampire. “It’s okay. I understand her better now.” I hesitated a second, letting my words sink in.
“Oh, okay, well, why don’t you talk to your Nan. She’d love to hear your voice.”
“Thanks for understanding, Pop.”
“A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.”
My grandfather, or Pop, had to be the coolest man ever. At seventy-three he still worked twenty hours a week as a pharmacist. I hated that I’d left Nan and him. They counted on the income from my part-time job. Of course, it’d been Pop who’d suggested I go to Iceland.
What did I say to them? How could I keep them safe? My mind ticked through all the possibilities. I had no idea if Pop or Nan still practiced their magic. Maybe they had in secret, but I couldn’t count on it. Then, the answer came to me. Dad kept a basement apartment as a safe house. They could go there. He’d always said to use it in case of any natural disasters or national emergency. I’d always pictured us fleeing to the small apartment because of an earthquake or atomic bomb threat. Maybe he’d designed it to be witch proof too.
“Here.” Wiping his eyes, Grady held the phone out to me.
“Everything okay? What’d they say?”
“I have to go there. They’re not going to believe in magic if I tell them over the phone. They’ll throw me in an asylum just like they did Camille.”
“They put Camille in an asylum?” I took the phone from him.
“Just to get her meds regulated.”
I wanted to hit Grady for not telling Camille the truth about her magic. Turning the phone over in my hand, I took a deep breath. I deserved a big belly punch for leaving her alone in the corridor.
Grady stood and straightened his pants. “Tyler may be of use to us. If we can awaken his magic, then we’d have another team member. He may even be a herald.”
“That’s right. Camille and Tyler have the same birthday. Only one year apart. I could help you train him.”
“I convinced him to take his mother and find a hotel room near the airport. Told him I got messed up with the wrong people. It scared him enough he will do it, but we have to get to Iceland fast.” He walked to the attendant’s desk.
Dialing Pop’s number, I let it ring and left a message. Remembering the safe house number, I tried that line. Pop picked up on the first ring.
“Hello.” His deep greeting rumbled through the phone.
“Pop, it’s Jude.”
“Jude. You okay? Your dad called. Told us to take shelter. What’s going on?”
“When did he call?”
“About a week ago. You know anything about that?”
“Dad joined Michael’s Coven. It’s a long story. I sort of did too but just to gain all my powers. The brand didn’t take.”
“No, it wouldn’t because you’re—”
“Some things are best unsaid, Pop.” I cut him off before he could say the word vampire.
“I agree. Where are you? Can you get home?”
“We may need a safe place to stay in LA.”
“How many people?”
I glanced up at Grady. “Four, maybe.”
“Well, it will be tight, but we’ll make do.”
“You and Nan okay?”
“Yeah, don’t worry about us.”
“Okay, I love you.”
I ended the call and joined Grady at the desk.
Busting through the door, the seaman’s girth rivaled his height. He muttered under his breath as he ushered us onboard. We followed him to the control room. Hearing the engine roar to life made my stomach turn. I looked out into the fog. Was I really leaving her? Abandoning her? I paced the small space.
“What are you thinking about?” Grady questioned.
“Camille. I shouldn’t be leaving her. This is all my fault.”
“You can’t focus on that now.”
I clenched the bar in front of the as the boat dipped in the rough surf. Grady outlined our next moves. He had an apartment in Rome where he kept money and extra passports in case of an emergency.
“They’ll be enough for the four of us and an extra for Camille, when we rescue her.”
“But how do we get to Rome?”
“Same way we got here, mind control.”
I hated relying on my magic and would feel safer once we got to Rome and got our identification papers and some money.
Grady laid a hand on my shoulder. “This is not going to be easy for you.”
“What do you mean?”
“That brand. It will weigh heavier on you the farther you are from the Coven’s compound.”
“Well, that’s something to look forward to. I think I can handle it though. We’ve been through a lot the past four weeks.”
“Do I want to know?”
“Probably not. If she were my daughter, I wouldn’t want to.” I looked out into the dark night.
“Enough said.”
We sat in silence the rest of the trip as the boat rose and fell with the swells. The surf pelted the windows, and I hated that we couldn’t see where we were going. I thought back to the day we arrived on Sardinia. The view hadn’t been much better. With the fog, we’d only been able to make out some ten feet in front of the ferry. I forced memories of the prior journey out of my head. Dwelling on my time with Camille wouldn’t bring her back. Assembling an army with Alena’s resources was our best chance at rescuing her.
The engine slowed, and I stood, trying to pick up any light beyond the boat. Within the next few minutes, a couple of glowing spots appeared off the bow. The assistant ran from the bridge, through the main room. We followed him outside and helped tie the ship to the dock.
Grady thanked the Captain and worker, and I nodded to show my appreciation. We made our way up the wooden ramp, to the street above.
“The airport is on the opposite side of the Island.” Grady pointed to the west.
“I know. We need a taxi.”
Leaving Grady on a bench, I jogged up the street to the business district. I found a bar and hailed a cab waiting outside. Waving him bac
k to where I’d left Grady, we piled in. Grady spoke some Italian to him and the driver yelled and motioned for us to get out of the car. Using my mental coercion abilities, we got him to agree to take us to the airport at Elmas. Still feeling like we were bobbing on the water, I fought nodding off. Grady shivered beside me, and I handed him one of the meal packets and a third jacket. We’d need to get him a decent outfit. Realizing my pants and shirt were caked with soil, I brushed the dirt from the fabric.
The city lights stung my eyes as we passed street light after street light. Finally, the cab driver pulled up to the terminal entrance. Grady thanked the man, and I copied his words, thinking I should be paying more attention to learning the language than feeling sorry for myself. Inside, Grady and I made our way to the shopping area. My guilt over our transgressions ratcheted up as I suggested to the clerk that we didn’t need to pay for our new clothing. The attended bowed over and over to us as we backed out, thanking us for using his business.
“How was that so easy?” I asked Grady as we entered the men’s room.
“Some minds are weaker than others.” He shrugged. “The airlines are going to be tough. Let’s get some hot coffee in us after we clean up.”
I was glad that Grady’s strength seemed to be returning and hoped the coffee and pastry would bolster him further. As I watched him eat, my mind drifted back to the previous forty-eight hours. Miguel had woken me before midnight and taken me to the chapel. I’d read and re-read every detail about the ritual. It included sharing blood with the elders. To ensure they couldn’t track me, I’d taken one of Camille’s birds, cracked its neck, and stuffed it up my sleeve. I hated that it had to be her canary, but figured the other animals would be missed. When the time came to slice my arm, I held my wrist under the table and sliced into the bird, letting the blood flow into my hand. Raising it over the bowl, the bird’s blood mixed with the others. I doubted the witches gathered there noticed the off flavor, but for a quarter vampire who’d tasted human blood, it was obvious there was something other than people blood in the bowl.
Adding the bird’s life to the list of my sins, I refocused on Grady. As he sipped his coffee, I noted he had no seal on his arm.
“Why don’t you have a seal?”
“Only Michael’s coven uses the brand. They practice a dark magic that binds them to the coven leader and to their ancestors.”
I leaned towards him to keep our conversation from being overheard. “You mean like the dead?”
“Yes, they draw power from their fallen coven members.”
“Do you think that’s what they’re going to do with the sword, bring them back?”
“That’s a good guess.” He cleared his throat as our waiter approached. “Do you want anything else?”
“No.” I waited for the server to leave. “I have allergies. I can’t eat processed foods.” Thinking of my vampirism reminded me of Camille. I wouldn’t have known about my mom or any of this if it weren’t for Camille. Trying to avoid a mental spiral, I asked Grady more about the brand.
“The brand is like a tether to your soul. It should have prevented you from doing anything against the coven’s wishes. That’s how they control their people and keep their power.”
“And the weight of the brand is why everyone lives close together?” I asked. “So, going to Iceland is going to be…?”
“Like the worst pneumonia you’ve ever had.”
“Wonderful.” I rolled my eyes and set my napkin in my lap. “I’m guessing me staying here would be a bad idea?”
“I think I need you to help convince Tyler and Camille’s mother.”
“I wish I had some type of proof. This”—I held out my arm—“just looks like a tattoo.”
“You have your magic.”
“Hopefully.” I slouched in my seat. My head had begun to ache, and I closed my eyes. Hearing someone approach, I opened them and straightened my back.
Finishing our coffee, we surveyed our airlines choices. Grady picked a desk with a young female attendant. As we approached, the woman flashed a wide smile, aimed straight at me.
“She likes you, use that,” Grady whispered to me.
When we reached the counter, I leaned over so there was barely a foot between us. Reading her name tag, I did my best to pronounce the name with an Italian accent.
She giggled and covered her mouth, repeating her name with the correct inflection.
Grady spoke to her in Italian, I assumed explaining our situation. Look at these poor men, I used magic to suggest the thought.
Wide-eyed, she looked between us. I continued to suggest that we looked like honest people who needed help using my mind control skills. Glancing around, she called to a nearby gentleman.
“Damn,” Grady said under his breath.
The woman helping us spoke to the man in hushed Italian. The man stepped up to the desk.
“Do you have identification? Some bank we can call to verify your funds?” he asked in broken English.
“We lost everything.” Grady turned his hands up. I focused on what might sway the gentleman. They have the funds, and I could get a tip out of this, I suggested with my magic.
He threw his hands in the air and started yelling at us in Italian.
“This isn’t working.” Grady started to back away from the counter, and I did the same.
The man took a whistle from his chest and blew it, yelling, I assumed, for security.
Grady grabbed my arm. “Get to a crowd and cloak us so we can get out of here. I’m sure we were being filmed.”
“Dang.” I swung to see people exiting a ramp a few gates down and pumped my arms to propel myself to them. Hearing Grady a few steps behind, I didn’t look back. Uniformed guards approached from every direction, and I ducked around a family toting multiple bags. Reaching back for Grady, I grabbed his arm and pulled him to the center of their group. The dad looked wide-eyed at me as I enacted our cloaking spell.
“Now run,” Grady whispered in my ear.
He didn’t need to tell me again. I gripped his arm as we hurled down the hall, dodging passengers. Nearing the exit, I realized the guards had created a barricade. I communicated to Grady that we should jump together, and he appeared beside me. Three, two, one, I sent to him, jumping about five feet in front of the line of men. Fist out, I punched the door open. When we landed, I lost his hand but grabbed his arm the next second.
The guards swarmed out of the terminal but stopped their pursuit on the sidewalk, milling about and yelling at each other.
“Let’s try one of the charters.” Grady pointed to the small hangars as we ran.
“You’ve got be kidding, I’d rather swim at this point.”
“They don’t have security.”
“Okay, but I get to pick.” Holding our cloak, we walked into the hangar. Several planes were being serviced, and I surveyed our choices. Picking out the oldest looking plane, I ducked behind a large metal toolbox. When I pointed to the ride I’d chosen, Grady shook his head. It’s our best bet, I told him.
I let go of his hand and discontinued our cloaking spell. “I get to choose this time.” I repeated my previous demand. Rounding the shelves of tools, I approached a mechanic tinkering with one of the engines of a small jet.
“Is this for hire?” I asked, sending thoughts that we looked like we could make him rich if he helped us.
The man looked from his work to me. “Italiano.” He shrugged and turned back to the motor.
“Sir.” Grady spoke a couple of sentences of Italian while I used my mind control. The man shrugged, dropped his wrench, and walked to a partitioned office.
“What do you think?” I asked Grady wondering how my English language formed magical suggestions were working on Italian speaking people.
“No clue. I told him I would pay them double when we landed in Rome.”
The mechanic exited the small room with another man, who was dressed in a pilot’s shirt. Reaching us, the uniformed gentleman said a coupl
e of Italian phrases.
Grady seemed to be haggling with him. I watched the mechanic as he finished his task, closed the compartment on the motor, and secured it in place. Seeing Grady and the pilot shake hands, I relaxed. The next piece had fallen in place. If it weren’t taking me farther away from Camille, it would have made me infinitely happier.
The ride was bumpy, and Grady clutched the armrests in his fists. I’d never feared flying or of much of anything. The brand on my arm and worry for Camille occupied my thoughts. I needed to stay strong. Grady had indicated the effects of the seal would be magnified the farther I got away from Sardinia, and I hoped my magic wouldn’t be affected.
“So, there’s a way to get this seal off?”
“Yes.” He swallowed hard, explaining that the process resembled an exorcism. Each of the marks of the brand created a tether to my soul. One by one the links had to be extracted. Only a few witches knew the spell, and fewer still were willing to use it to extract Michael’s coven’s brand.
“I thought you said only Michael’s coven had a seal.”
“All the lines have a seal. Only Michael’s coven requires it. Some covens give the option. Others never use it. It’s sort of about freedom of choice.”
“But you know someone who you think would be willing to remove it?” My leg bounced as I contemplated all the unknowns that awaited me.
“For a price.” He shut his eyes as the plane dipped again.
“What kind?”
“You were smart enough not to ask how much.”
“What? Like my first born or something?” Camille’s face popped into my head at the thought of having a child. I squinted my eyes, wondering where the stream of consciousness had come from. I was seventeen for goodness sakes.
“Usually years.”
“Like years of my life?”
“Yes, she is able to transfer your years to herself.”
“If I’m going to live a thousand years, I can probably stand to lose a few. Have you seen it done? How long will it take? Couldn’t I get it removed before we go to Iceland?”
“No, it is at least a ten-day process. They disconnect each tether from your soul by winding it around a stake, making a small quarter turn every hour or so, so the tether doesn’t break. You could picture it as detaching a vein from your heart by drawing it from your wrist.”
Kingdom of Honor (Kingdom Journals Book 3) Page 2