Magical (Mystical Series Book 3)

by Michael Weekly

  The room becomes silent. I push the bowl away from me and stare back at him.

  “I’m not drinking anything.”

  “Oh you will, it will just be a matter of time. Soon you will get hungry, and then at that moment…” He looks away from me as he walks to the door. “You become vulnerable, just like your pathetic brother.”

  The two mystics at the door eavesdrop the conversation, I can hear them chuckle. Marcus walks out of the room, chewing on a toothpick. The mystics follow. I hear his footsteps stop.

  He turns back and looks at me.

  “Don’t even think about running to that portal. Whoever enters is trapped with me forever. “

  “Tell that to the cat who leaped into it earlier.”

  “He only did because he killed someone here, which is very difficult to do. The only people who could are witches or someone corrupt like the rest of us here.”

  “So that’s why you have my broomstick. You don’t think I can kill anyone without it?”

  He turns around and clears his throat. “Make yourself comfortable, we’re going to have tons of fun.” Marcus leaves the room. “I’m so glad you came to visit.” He laughs down the hallways.

  I glance back at the bowl of blood in front of me. I press my lips shut tight. I take my ring off and throw it across the table.

  I watch the metal circle slide across the gloss.

  Chapter 4

  I’m not going to allow myself to be trapped here with such an evil person and his crew. I can’t let myself go corrupt. I release a stressful sigh, getting up and snatching the ring. This mood ring is supposed to help my mood swings, but I don’t see a difference thus far.

  Evil snickering from outside of the room helps create an eerie feeling. I glance at the bowl full of blood on the table. If only I had my broomstick here with me, I would’ve just killed Marcus right then and there. He did say all I need to do is kill a Ravamere mystic to get out of here. I can’t just go and snap someone’s neck, though. I need to figure out what to do.

  The door is locked from outside. I wriggle the doorknob and then bang on the wood. The snickers sound off again. I turn around, thinking of a plan to get out of this room.

  Maybe this blood could come in handy.

  I fix my skirt and top, then wrap my hair into a ponytail. I walk over to it. Fake suicide death coming right up, leaving their soon-to-be Ravamere Queen dead. I throw the bowl of blood on the ground, it shatters across the floor. I slip to the side of the door, waiting for them to open it. The blood on the ground travels underneath the door.

  “What the hell is that on the ground?” I hear one of the mystics bend down and then lick their fingers. “Blood?”

  “Quick, open the door, you idiot.”

  “Did she really kill herself?” While they discuss it, I see a fork on the table.

  I run over, grabbing it. The door creaks open. I whirl around. Their eyes glare at me, baring their teeth.

  The fairy flies up to the air but hits his head on the ceiling. The elf flips toward me, shouting. I slide underneath him. The fairy is on the ground unconscious. I take my fork, stabbing underneath both of his nipples.

  He vanishes away into rainbow mist. I twist around, and get kicked against the wall. My fork falls out of my hand. The elf crouches and moves toward me. Unaware of the blood on the ground, he trips. This is my chance to kill him off. I roll aside, feeling the blood lick my skin. I then grab the fork as I get up, kicking his side. I push him over, getting on top of the mystic.

  “You’re not going to be able to escape, witch.”

  “Oh trust me, I have my ways.”

  Taking the fork, I pry my way down through his grip. He hollers out in hope of someone saving his life. He chokes me and presses his knee against my gut. I cough, focusing on his heart.

  My fork’s tip tickles his dark green vest. Head-butting him, he knocks out on the ground and I stab the fork, cutting through his thick skin, and feeling the vibration of his heartbeat one last time.

  Then, poof, light green mist rises against my cheeks while he fades away. My skin is stained by the blood, and my hair drips with viscous fluid. I walk out of the room slowly, looking around for any mystics on the hunt. The hallway is dead silent, dark, and my markings light up the place.

  I pick up a scent immediately, like a dog catching onto something nearby. My markings freeze and burn my skin, and my heart pounds against me like I’m about to jump off a skyscraper. That’s the thing, I’m not afraid. I’ve known this presence forever. My gaze lifts.

  We stare at each other for the longest time.

  With one blink, he appears in front of me. The wind quickly brushes against my face after, and his distinct French cologne tickles my nose. He places his thumb on my collarbone and tucks the lingering strands of hair behind my ears. I shudder at his cold touch, glancing at his elven slender body shadow bouncing off the burgundy walls.

  “Seems like you got into a messy fight.”

  “Nothing new whenever you’re around,” I say. “I’m not going to run away from you.”

  “How come?”

  “Because you have mystics in the shadows behind you, waiting for me if I do.” My ears twitch at their footsteps and breathing. “So really, what are my chances?” I drop my fork, my only weapon, on the ground.

  “Wow, your elf senses are really doing you good.”

  “You guys can go,” I order the mystics, looking around for them to show themselves.

  They step out of the shadows. “Yeah,” Christian says lightly, focusing his gaze on me. “You guys can go.” I hear mutters in the background.

  “Christian? You want us to leave you with the witch, sir?”

  “It’s fine. She’s not going anywhere.”

  “Are you sure about that?” I roll my eyes.

  “Not looking like that, you aren’t, you’re dripping in blood.”

  “Okay?”

  “Which means, you’re dinner in the eyes of the low-class mystics outside. They don’t know any better not to chow down.”

  “Why?”

  “Because they’re pure evil,” he says, chuckling to himself. He lifts his gaze up diagonally, waiting for my reaction. Crossing his arms over his chest, the mystics leave one by one.

  Christian’s dressed up in something you’d wear on a business trip. It’s awkward because I was too.

  “Did you know about our betrothing?”

  “Why do you think I left that rose in the woods for you to find and the note in Canary’s home?”

  I suddenly remember why it was so important that I take care of the rose Miss Canary gave me. It’s the only thing keeping our betrothal alive. It wasn’t Marcus who betrothed us, it was Miss Canary.

  He stares at me like I’m a piece of food to devour. He mutters something under his breath, finding all of this humorous as it comes together bit by bit.

  “Christian.”

  “Yeah, I’m the one who killed her husband…that five-year-old boy hiding behind the door when Terese first met you.”

  The mumbles outside the door when Mom closed it sounded like a fight. I lift my gaze up at him, understanding what could have been the reasoning behind the commotion. I step back slowly, my head colliding softly against the wall. “Are you afraid of me now?”

  He leans in with a sly smirk on his face.

  “Terese Canary became corrupt because of me,” he whispers into my ear.

  My hand covers my mouth, and my heart beats harder than before. All this time I thought Miss Canary was the one who killed her husband when really she was covering for Christian. How could someone so little and innocent-looking be the reason behind all of this?

  “You’ve always been corrupt, you were just masking it.”

  “I always thought you were a smart one.” He smiles. “Basically your dad spared Miss Canary’s life if she agreed to help him betroth you and I. You see, she has rare elf magic, hence, the rare rose she gave to you.” He steps in closer. “I couldn�
�t kill her myself, but your father could. I needed Miss Canary to help me with the betrothal. However, the only time it would seal the bond is when you left for college.” His hand traces my bloody strands.

  “Your irrelevant mother was just in the way; she was supposed to be my queen. Somehow she tamed the myth inside of her, and escaped Ravamere on our wedding day.” The art lounge, and Mom missing that entire time. She was in Ravamere trapped, and forced to marry him. “That makes no sense. Why didn’t she just remarry Marcus instead?”

  “He’s growing weak; he can’t take over Ravamere any longer and the mystics around here sense his weakness. I’m the next one up the ladder, but only if your brother stays out of the way.”

  “Jared?”

  “Happy you know his name.”

  “Why are you doing all of this for no reason?”

  “I do have a reason.”

  I look up at him, puzzled, his green eyes glowing in front of me.

  “Revenge.” He steps back. “Your mother killed my mother, brothers, and sisters.”

  “Christian, don’t take your anger out on me.”

  “I’m not taking it out on you, I’m taking it out on your entire bloodline of filthy myth witches who believe they can kill anything that gets in their way. I have something very special for you.”

  Why would my mom do such a thing? That’s stupid of me to think; we’re witches and that’s our job. We don’t just go looking for mystics to kill, we do it within reason. I have met pure mystics and corrupt; they’re both very different.

  Christian is pure evil, making him the soon-to-be king and me his queen. My father is just the person to set it all up. “So why not just kill me, and make it easier for you? Why make me your queen?” I start to get angry, he walks away. I grab his arm to pull him back, he holds back his devilish chuckles.

  “Because you’re the one I want, everything about you is what I live for, the chases are thrilling, the taunting…it exhilarates me.” He looks down at me. “Can’t you see it? We’re sort of alike. Manipulating people into getting what we want from them, and killing for fun.”

  “I kill because I have no other choice, it’s either me or the mystics that want my blood.”

  “Oh face it, we’re bound to be together. The way we touch, our chemistry, you may not think we have it. You certainly didn’t fight the temptation in the closet earlier.” He leans in toward me, giving me a kiss. “You know what’s even funnier? I know you can resist me, and you didn’t.” I slap his face and push him off me.

  I purse my lips and look at him. I’d give anything to slice his throat with my own broomstick. This is all fun and games for him, the slap did nothing to him. “Don’t fight against it, Eliza.” He pulls on my ear with his teeth softly. “It’s hard fighting against a born corrupt mystic like myself.”

  “If you don’t kill me soon, I’ll make your life a living hell.” I turn to look at him, clenching my fists together.

  He places his hands into his pockets. “I’m already in hell, glad for you to join. I’ll leave now.” Christian fades away into the mansion’s shadows.

  I notice Marcus standing near a corner. He makes it obvious that he was listening to every single word we said. I flick him off with my middle finger as I walk by him.

  “And where are you going?” he says.

  “Oh don’t try acting like we’re related now,” I snap.

  ***

  The night grows silent, I feel like I am being watched even though I am in my room. I’m exhausted. I have the feeling—I know I’m tired—but something in this world makes it less bothersome. I poke the window glass as dust trickles down from the cracks above. People here don’t sleep as it is anyway, they hunt for pure blood, and leave hickies on people; it’s strange, very strange.

  I take off my mood ring. I’m numb and all the mystic emotions in here are driving me crazy. There’s fear, sadness, anger, envy. They all pour over me at once. My breathing picks up, and my pulse pumps throughout my veins. My eyes feel like they’re freezing just for a second or two. Placing the mood ring back on makes everything fade back to normal.

  I press my back against the wall as my hands feel over my throat and markings. Marcus says this ring is worthless to me, so why would it have such an impact if I removed it? I stand by the window and watch my friend float in the sky. I feel so pathetic for not saving her. I should’ve taken all the energy within me to run after her and jump into that portal.

  Dawn…out of all the people, why did they take you? I promised to always keep you safe. A single tear slides down my cheek. Three mystics walk under from where she floats, they wave their hands at her as she twitches.

  The purple sunset-like sky lights up my room, and the grass sways from left to right slowly. From a distance I notice the portal swirl around faster than usual. It lights up.

  An object jets through and sprints across the field. Everything happens in a blur. The object was fast as the grass swishes rapidly, in its wake.

  I hear the mystics laughing from my room. I glance over, they’re playing around with Dawn in the sky. I can’t let them hurt her even more, I rush to my door. I see something on my bed. It’s the same rose that always haunt me.

  There’s a note next to its glowing green stem. I open it, smelling Christian’s scent and reading his words.

  “Thought you’d be looking for this.”

  I throw the rose on the ground to step on it. It doesn’t break, no matter how much I’ve tried to snap this rose, it doesn’t break. I remember in Ellevil when Miss Canary warned me about keeping the rose safe, but now I know why. It’s the link in this psychotic betrothal I’m stuck in. I kick the rose into the shadows of my room and focus on escaping to save my friend.

  Don’t leave your room, they’ll know something is up, stay put.

  It’s the same feeling of Christian being in my head, reading my thoughts, and using telepathy. I stand still, placing my hand over my forehead, and concentrating harder than I’ve ever done before.

  Who is this? You don’t sound like Christian.

  The voice is scruffy and manly, it seems familiar.

  It’s your brother.

  The same cat that ran away and dodged every single attack is Jared. He doesn’t have his sarcastic perky tone. It’s like he grew up strangely. I’m so happy it’s him and not Christian.

  I need you to listen to me closely. There’s a hidden entrance out of the mansion.

  Jared, Dad has me trapped here. There’s mystic guards everywhere.

  He’s like that with everyone. Mom stayed in that same room.

  How did you even leave Ravamere? He says you have to kill someone to be able to leave.

  Eliza, stop getting off topic, I need you to follow my directions before I’m spotted again.

  There is a moment of silence as I walk back to the window. I see the grass rustle. He must be in the middle of the field. The movement stops.

  Down the hallway there’s a white room; you need to enter it. It is completely filled with corrupt spirits. Do not listen to them, and most importantly, do not take off your ring. Please, whatever you do, don’t fall into temptation. If you do, we will lose you for good.

  Jared’s voice fades away from my thoughts.

  I think while closing my eyes,

  Don’t leave me, Jared, come back.

  I hear a group of mystics walking outside. The connection between my brother and I is lost. Rushing to stand in front of my window, I place the palm of my hand on its glass, looking down at the mystics sniffing the air for a scent they caught.

  I see Jared’s shadow dart next to another building outside.

  “What was that?” one shifter growls, his yellow eyes turning around to glare up at my window. I’m frightened and turn to my side, facing my wall.

  Mystics who have been killed are trapped in that room, but that’s the only way for you to get to me. If I’m spotted, the plan is over. You have thirty seconds. Leave now.

  Jared sounds
very assertive, yet worried for me. I know the room I’m supposed to go to is strange, I sensed presences from the room the first time I laid eyes on it.

  I know I have to do this to get out of here, but there are guards watching my room. Thanks, Jared, for explaining to me how I’m to get rid of them in thirty seconds…I guess he figured he didn’t need to explain, because I’m a witch, and we kill mystics for a living. I grab a black leather jacket, changing into some black jeans and slipping my feet into some boots.

  I look around the room for any sort of weapons present. I bite on my bottom lip, opening the closet. I see a scarf on the ground. Bending down to pick it up, I think of a plan. I walk out of the closet, holding the scarf in my hands. I turn around looking at the door, and then back in front of me.

  I furrow my eyes, grabbing the heel on the ground. Walking over to the window, my eyes watch Dawn in the sky. Anger fills me. My lips purse as I step back, turning my face to the side and smashing the heel against the glass. Tiny shards fall to the ground, one large and jagged one falls right to the tips of my boots.

  Twenty seconds before the alert sounds off.

  I wrap my hand with the scarf to pick up the piece of glass. I rush to the door. I stand still for a second or two, I don’t think I’ll need my myth for this. I’m confident enough, so I open the door. Yellow eyes and rainbow markings glow in front of me as they turn around. I don’t think, I act immediately. The fairy snarls at me, lifting from the ground. I slice his wing with my piece of glass as it fades away into a rainbow mist. He falls to the ground, but I’m pushed against a wall by the shifter.

  I manage to keep my weapon in my hand. I jab the glass into his stomach.

  He growls in pain on top of me. I wrap the scarf around his neck, pulling him to the side. The fairy runs toward me. I dodge his attack and then kick his back. He turns around swiftly, but I drop to the ground to trip him. He stumbles back, eventually falling backward, and allowing the sharp glass to pierce his chest.