Simply Enchanting

by Amber Lynn

  Say what? I knew he’d been doing it since the dance, but she’s acting like the second I touched down in town, I’ve been speaking gibberish to anyone around.

  “I’ve been going up against the guardian of the Petravich line for almost a thousand years now, and I have to say, your guardian has proven to be up to the task. We thought we’d gotten rid of the last of your line around five years ago. Well, at least the last one who can turn on us. As you know, your father negated any threat when he turned. That was such a waste. I mean, we would have had to kill him eventually, but he was a powerful enchanter. I imagine he’d be on the Council now if things turned out differently. Can you imagine what it’d be like if they had a truthseer among them.”

  There is a sigh of disgust as she pauses her long-winded tirade. I’d be pissed off having to listen to all of that without a breath if it didn’t interest me. I know my father supposedly found a way around becoming a truthseer, but I don’t remember anyone being specific about how he did that. Ophelia only said that the option was off the table for me.

  “Anyway, that is neither here nor there now, right? I’ve stolen you away from your protector, so now we need to focus in on killing you. I’ve got three of your kind notched in my belt for kills, which is already a record. Since we have it on good authority that you’re the last Petravich, I’m going to go down in the history book with the most kills.”

  Does she expect me to jump up and cheer for that? Her voice has added a bit of pep, which isn’t helping me figure out who she is. Or maybe it is. It can’t be one of my teachers or any of the other students in my classes. Unless they were disguising their voices, it can’t be anyone I see on a daily basis. I’m leaning towards it not being disguised, because I know I’ve heard it before.

  That leaves few options. I suppose I could have heard it just walking down the hall one day, and not associated it to a specific person, but something tells me that’s not the case.

  The weird thing is that I was starting to think Mrs. Renaud was at least a person of interest. It’s clearly not her, but I’m still stuck on her lying to me.

  I’m also stuck on my kidnapper bringing up the name Petravich. I’ve never heard of it. My mom neglected to mention what my dad’s name is, or was. I guess I don’t know if he’s alive. I feel like someone mentioned he was, but it’s not something I’d bet my life on.

  “You know, I can’t specifically read your thoughts. Michael’s done a number on your head and it’s not really something I mess around with. I can however tell just by your facial expressions that your thinking hard about something, and if I had to guess, you’re trying to place me. It’s so easy to go under your notice when you think someone is just a human. I’m not a fan of mixing species together, but you take your elitist attitude to new levels.”

  It’s unfair that I can’t defend myself. Not that I have a defense to that statement. It’s how I was raised and probably why I’ve gotten in so much trouble over the years. Well, maybe not the sole reason for the trouble, but being told I was better than everyone else from the day I was born, put a decent-sized chip on my shoulder.

  “It’s always so weird when it gets to this point. I want to drag it out and taunt the fact that you’re in this position, but you’re just a baby. Without your powers activated, it’s just so easy. It’s always easy.”

  Yeah, I don’t know about all that. It’s hard to say otherwise since I’m basically incapacitated, but I’m not about to just lie down and let her kill me.

  “Maybe I should liven this one up. You are the last Petravich, after all. It’s not like I’m going to get to do this again.”

  The veil killing my senses snaps away. I’d probably feel a little better about that if the perky principal who showed up in my house on one of my first days in town wasn’t the only thing I see.

  She’s an angel?

  The woman who stuck me in Etiquette class is the person who’s going to kill me. That has got to be the greatest joke ever told.

  I clear my throat again, and this time more than a sad groan comes out. I spend a few seconds adjusting my jaw to make sure everything works.

  “If I have my way, you won’t get to do it now. Why in the world do I really matter in the long run?”

  I understand being able to see through lies is annoying, but couldn’t she just ignore me?

  She laughs at the question. I’m surprised she’s even getting air in the tight and prim pink suit she’s wearing. Angel or not, the lady needs some help with her fashion choices.

  “You don’t know,” she says slowly. “I guess your mom and dad are keeping their own secrets. Surprise. Surprise. That is the way of our kind. Keep things hidden until it’s too late.”

  I interrupt what I’m sure is a tirade going nowhere. I guess I’m going to prove her initial thought that I talk too much.

  “My mom, yes. Since I’ve never met my dad, it’s kind of hard to say he’s keeping secrets from me. Aside from who he is.”

  Mrs. Kline’s head shakes as her eyes close and she lets out a breath. I don’t know what part of my words is unbelievable, but that’s the vibe I’m picking up.

  “You seriously don’t know why you had two angels here waiting for you to arrive? Are you really that dense?”

  Well, I can’t exactly deny that hasn’t crossed my mind. There are two questions there, and I’ve asked myself both of them. The dense part is a trait I try to avoid but has bit me a time or two over the years.

  “Wow. Even now, you don’t know. I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise. We did talk about you being an elitist and how that blinds you to seeing the obvious.”

  “So it was obvious that I should know you wanted to kill me?”

  I know that isn’t exactly where she’s going with her words, but I’m trying to keep her talking. I guess I haven’t really given you a full update on my situation. I can see, well at least her and the brown, unfamiliar wall she’s standing in front of, and smelling seems to be back intact based on the sour odor assaulting my nose, but not even my pinkies wiggle.

  “If you were paying attention, maybe, but we both know that’s not what I’m talking about. Did your mom not give you a reason for moving here?”

  “Sure she did. She wants me to grow up.”

  I don’t see a reason to lie. She clearly thinks there’s another method to my mother’s madness. The laugh that accompanies my words echoes that idea.

  “I guess I can’t deny that, but that’s not why she brought you here. One of my friends in our hunt for you got close back in Chappell Hill. My goal after learning you existed was to find your father. He wasn’t easy to find, but when you’re on a mission, you figure out a way to get it done.”

  I’m not stupid. I know this will come as a surprise, but I’m able to read between the lines. Or at least the lines as she believes them to be.

  My father is in Newberry. He’s turned and evidently someone I would think less of.

  Yes, the dots connect, in a disturbing way. I even thought of the possibility before, but it seems so wrong.

  “You think Mr. Hamilton is my dad, don’t you?”

  Her smile tells me all I need to know. Of all the times to figure that out, this probably isn’t the best one.

  Chapter Thirty-four

  “When we started breathing down your neck, Ophelia ran to the only person she thought could protect you.”

  Mrs. Kline, if that’s even her real name, is taking immense joy in sharing that news. I’ve been doing everything I can to keep my face neutral after her mentioning she thought I was trying to figure out who she is.

  If what she’s saying is true, my mom’s communications skills aren’t only lacking with me. Mr. Hamilton was shocked when he first saw me. I suppose this additional information is putting that interaction in a new light. I mean, I don’t know what he’s been up to for the last two hundred years, but having your long-lost daughter show up at your door has to be a rude awakening.

  “It’s too bad you won’t
get to know him. He and your mother are the definition of a power couple. An enchanter has never turned another one of you, and there’s the whole question of how in the world you were born.”

  “According to my mom, it took about fifteen hours of labor she won’t let me forget.”

  Her words putting even more questions in my head doesn’t help her situation. I know I’m at a disadvantage, but I’m convinced I’m going to get out of this. Since I keep telling myself that, and I’m not getting a sore throat, there must be some truth to it. I have no idea if that means it’s possible, or I’m just overly confident. You wouldn’t think that likely, since I can’t move.

  I would love to say I’ve been in stickier pickles, but this really tops the cake. I scoff at the two food references. I guess missing lunch is making me a little hungry.

  “Well, isn’t that a nice visual.”

  The roll of her eyes tells me that is something she could’ve done without hearing. Not to mention I get a little throat tingle. Seriously? Sarcasm doesn’t fly under the radar. I hope this truthseer spidey sense thing doesn’t activate when I speak. If it does, I’m going to have to buy stock in throat lozenges.

  “To be clear, I wasn’t talking about your physical birth. Noah has been a bloodsucker for over three centuries. Last I checked, that means it would be impossible for him to be your father, and yet, here we are.”

  “Then maybe you’re wrong about him being my dad. I’ve never heard of the Petra…Peter… whatever that name you said. You know, you might have the wrong girl.”

  I should have probably played the clueless card sooner. For half of this conversation, I wasn’t allowed to speak, so maybe it’s not too late.

  Her laugh doesn’t give me hope she’s considering the idea. She already said Michael was blocking my conversations, so she can’t know I’m clued in on the general rumors. I wonder if she knows my eyes have changed? Given the situation, I didn’t bother to avoid eye contact once my invisible blindfold disappeared.

  Since my usual enchanter magic isn’t doing much for me, I’ve been focusing on the whole seeing through things. I am guessing she hasn’t cursed my body like with Ian’s mom, but the concept of me being bound is fake, so I should be able to see through it.

  Right?

  That’d be awesome, but so far it isn’t working. The other circumstances were me looking at something, and it’s a little difficult to do that while I’m curled up on the floor. What I need is a giant mirror.

  Yes, I’ve tried to get one to appear. If nothing else, it might freak her out, but nothing is coming. It’s like the energy I need for my magic has been vacuumed out of the room. Clearly, she’s using something else for my binding.

  “I’m pretty sure the ‘wrong girl’ would have questioned why I’ve been talking about killing you.”

  I hum and try to shrug. My shoulders feel like they want to move, which seems like an improvement.

  “You wouldn’t be the first person to want to kill me. I can’t count the number of times someone has threatened to end me, and I haven’t known why half the time.”

  “I’m sure that’s true, but other than the confusion as far as who I am, you just haven’t shown any signs of disorientation or surprise. Plus, Michael really gives it away.”

  My brow goes up. I know she said he’s blocking things, but I have so many questions about that. Could she really tell that it was him and not my mom doing something? Energy is usually energy, and Ophelia can block things from the best of them.

  Backing up that notion, there’s the fact that Michael didn’t speak to me for weeks. How can she know he’s been protecting me if we’ve had zero interactions? I’m pretty sure I showed my general disgust for the angel every second of each school day. Today may be the exception, but that was all a show.

  “Michael gives it away? That manboy is clueless.”

  I wish I could emphasize that more with throwing my hands up in the air. I think I can easily portray how frustrated he makes me. He hasn’t showed up to put a stop to this, so it’s easy.

  “That manboy is one of the strongest angels in existence. Actually, I would go so far as to say he is the strongest. You don’t have any idea how unworthy you are to have him as your guardian.”

  Not only do her words indicate how pissed off she is about that subject. Her eyes go from hazel to red. I get the feeling they might as well be green.

  I know angels can change their appearances, so age generally doesn’t matter, but the picture of Mrs. Kline with Michael just does not jive in my head.

  “And yet you think he is. Don’t you think he’d spend a little more time around me if he’s supposed to be the guardian you keep talking about?”

  “I guess it does take one to know one, because you are absolutely clueless if you don’t think he has spent every second of every day since you’ve been here monitoring your every move.”

  It’s hard to say what’s creepier between the idea that all those everys are right and that she’s spent so much time watching him. There are no little tickles in my throat, so I guess she might be telling the truth. I have to wonder if a person believing what they’re saying makes a difference in whether it triggers.

  “I’m not saying that’s true, but he did ask me out last night, so maybe you’re not seeing things right. If he’s shown any interest, it’s because he wants to get in my pants.”

  The excuse for him spending time around me is kind of handy. She’s proven she can’t tell when I’m lying, but I find lies are so much easier if there’s at least a little grain of truth in them.

  “You’re trying to confuse me. He’s devoted to his task, not flesh.”

  Not laughing is almost painful. I’m stuck between wanting to perplex her and piss her off. The two don’t have to be mutually exclusive, but I have to walk a fine line. Somehow, I’ve got to keep her talking without pushing whatever button initiates my death.

  “You really think that however long he’s been focused on this task you claim, he hasn’t thought about hooking up with someone? I hate to tell you this, because I’m afraid you’ve got some holier than thou picture of him in your head, but I have no doubt flesh is very much on his mind.”

  She was a good ten feet away from me, but as the words escape my lips, she’s on me. The first slap across my face stings. I’ll give her that. It’s not like I could’ve stopped it.

  “Would you stop egging her on. I’d really like to make sure she’s the only one trying to kill you, today. If she hits you again, I’m not going to be able to stop from rushing in there and strangling her.”

  I’m distracted listening, so I barely register the second slap. If Michael has been sitting around listening, he should’ve realized that the hit was coming, making his last thought meaningless. I somehow tarnished Mrs. Kline’s image of him, and I haven’t even gotten to the part where we kissed.

  “You lie,” she yells in my face.

  I half expect Michael to come rushing in. There were no lie tickles in his words.

  “Do I? Is that even possible for a truthseer? I’ve been asking myself that question since I started seeing through lies.”

  Knowing that Michael is close, even though I don’t know where close is, I see no problem confirming her claim. It’s not like denying it was doing me any good.

  “You started?”

  She backs away two feet. It’s more of a stumble, or at least it would be if she was a human.

  “Didn’t you know? I started seeing through the curse you put on Ian’s mom, and my own curse is starting to unravel now.”

  I’m totally fishing on that first part. I’m not aware of the tricks in an angel’s arsenal, but the fact that I’m frozen makes me think a coma wouldn’t be too difficult.

  “No, that’s not right. You haven’t shown any of the signs that it’s triggered.”

  What? Are there some paint fumes or something killing off her brain cells? I don’t understand why that would suddenly scare her. She’s shaking her head, d
enying something.

  Hmm. She just said I wasn’t showing any signs, which I know to be false. I guess that answers that question.

  “Why don’t you lie to me? We’ll see if I can tell. Michael and I played that game this morning. Do you want to know what he said that proved to be true? I’ll give you a hint, one of them involved his lips on mine.”

  I know there was a direct order not to egg her on, but it is so easy. I hope Michael is getting a good image of the two of them together, because I have no problem seeing how Mrs. Kline wants to spend her retirement after she kills me. I don’t know which one of them I feel sorry for most.

  Instead of physically hitting me, she lashes out with the same energy that had me splitting in two when I was pulled from my jump. My body stiffens as the pain flows through me. If she expects me to scream, she has another thing coming.

  People love to lash out at me. I’ve always figured that was why Ophelia kept me away from other enchanters after my curse. What I don’t think my mom, or anyone, realizes is that if you hit me once with something, there’s going to be the reaction you expect. The second time, I learn from it and even if the juice is turned up, it doesn’t have the same result.

  The pain is over almost as soon as it starts. I flex and curl my fingers. If you don’t understand the significance of that, you should hang around with Mrs. Kline, because she just made a big mistake thinking I was sufficiently subdued.

  Chapter Thirty-five

  I’m not good about being able to tell how much time has passed without looking at a watch, but I can tell you that I’ve been immobile long enough that wiggling my fingers is a cause for immense joy. Even with the energy sucked out of the room, movement means I can at least attempt to physically defend myself.

  Without magic, I need to catch her off guard, which is the only reason I’m not up on my feet pouncing on her. Okay, I’ll concede the fact that I have no idea how to overpower an angel also plays in my decision to think about things before acting.