Rising Fury (Hexing House Book 1)

by Rasmussen, Jen

  Thea didn’t like the sound of that, but he turned away from her before she could ask any more questions, and walked up to the gate.

  “We’ll have to go in on foot, of course.” He reached up to touch the ornate entwined S’s in the iron. Thea and Bridget watched as they shifted, straightened, and arranged themselves into H’s. There was a click, and the lock dropped open. Graves began to unwind the chain. “Only someone with fury’s blood can do that, so until you get that far in your transformation, you’ll have to be escorted on and off the campus.”

  That gave Thea pause. Once I walk in, I’m trapped. And he doesn’t have a room for me yet? What if this is all a lie? What if they eat humans? Or sacrifice them to some weirdo fury gods? Or use them for slaves?

  Then you’d obviously better get Flannery away from them, and fast.

  With one last wave to Aunt Bridget, Thea followed Graves through the gate.

  He locked it behind them, and they walked up a lane that became increasingly neat and trim as they went. When they came around a bend to what had once been the Spencer School’s campus, Thea stopped to stare.

  Meticulous landscaping separated neat red brick buildings. Ribbons of black walkways lined with flowers flowed around them. The windows were shiny, the doors bright white. Furies flew or walked along, at least a dozen of them that she could see. It looked bustling and pleasant.

  “But I’ve seen the buildings. Only the tops from a distance, but still. They’re covered in kudzu, and the ones that aren’t are falling apart.”

  Graves smiled. “How you see it depends on where you see it from. And how you come in, whether you’re authorized.”

  “That’s some magic, I guess.”

  “Enchantment is the rarest form of magic.” Graves said with a nod. “That kind of power doesn’t come along often, but once in a while, you get a fury—or a human, although that’s even more rare—who can render something of this magnitude. Normally our magic is limited to vices and virtues.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Manipulating them. It’s what hexes are made of.” Graves waved away her confused look and said, “You’ll learn all that.”

  A young fury passed, walking not flying, carrying an armful of packages.

  “He doesn’t have wings,” Thea said, half turning to watch him.

  “No. He’ll get them when he reaches maturity and completes his transformation. Same as you. Your transformation will be harder, because you have further to go, but the same principle applies.”

  It was the perfect opening to ask about something that had been making her uneasy. “Will it hurt? All this training and transformation?”

  Graves glanced at her, as if surprised by the question. “Yes.”

  Thea swallowed, but dropped it when he didn’t elaborate. He already thought her weak.

  “And what if you’re wrong? What if I’m not a natural, or powerful, or whatever? What if I can’t do it?”

  He stopped walking and gave her a hard look. “Do you see a beard on my face?”

  “What?”

  “A beard. A long, white one. Do you see one?”

  “No.”

  “Exactly. I am not the wise old mentor in your story. I’m not the friendly wizard who shows up when you need him the most. Do not confuse my courtesy with soft-heartedness. I’m a fury.”

  “You’re the one who asked me to come here!”

  “Yes, and you’ve made your decision. Don’t fret over it, don’t look back, and for the love of heaven, do not ask for coddling. You won’t get it here. I’m telling you so for your own good, before you meet the others.”

  Typical man. Charming and encouraging until he gets what he wants from a girl, then he turns on her. Thea limped after him into a narrow three story building.

  “Administration,” Graves said. “Alecto’s office is here.”

  “And who is he?”

  “She. She’s the head of Hexing House. And my niece, as it happens.”

  Thea felt a little relief at hearing that the person in charge was a woman. Maybe she’d be nicer than Graves. Maybe she’d even let Thea look at whatever files they might have on Flannery, once Thea had a chance to explain. “Does she have a sister?”

  Graves led her up a staircase. “Yes, one. Why?”

  “Then she’ll understand. About Flannery, how close we are.”

  Graves laughed, a sound more akin to a growl. “I think you may have just missed my point. I will give you one piece of wise old mentor advice: do not look to Alecto for understanding.”

  The thin, pinch-faced fury in the office Graves led her into scowled at them. He had curly black hair and green eyes that were startling against his lavender skin.

  “Vlad,” Graves said. “She should be expecting me.”

  “She is.” Vlad’s tone suggested he thought this unwise of Alecto. “And I see you’ve brought a human with you, how nice. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.”

  Apparently snotty assistants were common to all races of beings. Just as she would’ve if she was back in L.A., Thea gave him a sunny smile and thanked him as if he’d just been extraordinarily sweet to her, although inside she felt the familiar tightening of panic again. She followed Graves past Vlad’s desk and through a door behind it.

  Alecto’s office was a harsh room, sparsely furnished and gray-walled. There were no pictures, and nothing at all on the desk except a computer, not even a stray pen. Alecto herself was even harsher. She looked Thea up and down with eyes that were so light brown they were almost gold. She was slender beneath a great cascade of braids falling to her wings, and although she wore a suit, the jacket was slung over the back of her chair, leaving her in a sleeveless blouse that seemed designed to show off hard, muscular arms.

  Thea exhaled a shaky breath and hoped nobody heard it.

  Alecto didn’t invite them to sit, nor did she sit herself. Instead she leaned against her desk, crossed her arms, and said, “You should know that I’m meeting with you only as a personal favor to Graves, out of respect for him. I do not have high hopes of your being hired here, and neither should you.”

  Thea turned to stare at Graves. He gave the slightest little wave that said don’t worry about it, but she noticed he didn’t meet Alecto’s eyes.

  Alecto stepped closer. She smelled like cloves. “We haven’t had a human transformation in sixty years. And I don’t believe in them, as a rule.”

  She looked at Thea. That was all. There were no magic words, no eye of newt. Her eyes didn’t roll back in her head or shoot laser beams. She only looked.

  But Thea could feel her taking inventory. Not of her mind, exactly. It wasn’t Thea’s thoughts or memories Alecto could see. More like her spirit, or maybe just her character. Her strengths, her weaknesses.

  Instinctively, Thea returned Alecto’s regard. She almost thought there was something there, but then she hit a wall, so hard she felt physically pushed. She took a step back.

  Alecto’s eyes widened briefly. “She does have power, I’ll give you that,” she said to Graves. “But I don’t believe she has the strength to use it. She’s afraid. She’s weak.”

  “We can teach her to use it,” Graves said. “We can make her strong.”

  Much to her own surprise, Thea jumped in before Alecto could express further doubt. For Flannery’s sake, of course. But also from a sudden need to prove herself to this hard, prideful woman. (Prideful? When have you ever used that word?)

  “It’s not that I’m too weak to use it,” she said. “I’ve been trained not to use it. I can be trained the other way.”

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Alecto said. “I don’t think your heart is hard enough for this work. You’ll fall apart.”

  “I’ve been in worse situations and not fallen apart.”

  “What, in Hollywood?” Alecto smiled a little at Thea’s obvious surprise. “You didn’t think I knew? We have access to TV, you know. And movie night every Friday in the auditorium. The Benjamin Stake movies are quite po
pular here.”

  “What do you mean, when you say you’ve been trained?” Graves asked. “By whom?”

  Thea shook her head. Coming off being reminded of Baird, this was the last thing she wanted to talk about. But her position was obviously more precarious than she’d realized, and this interview, if that was what it was, needed to go well. She sighed and told them the truth.

  “When I was seven, there was a boy in my neighborhood who went missing. His stepfather, Mr. Delacroix, I saw his shame.” She shrugged. “Well, the shame and his dead stepson clinging to his back, with one side of his head smashed in. Mr. Delacroix did that with a shovel, because Bobby hadn’t done his chores. Every Sunday in church, there was the ghost of Bobby Higgins, stuck to Mr. Delacroix’s back with his arms around his neck like he was getting a piggyback ride.”

  “And the shame?”

  “I’d been seeing things like that my whole life, but that might have been the first time I knew the word for what I was seeing.” Thea bit her lip, remembering. “Well, seeing is maybe the wrong word. It wasn’t like he had an aura or something. I just knew. He carried it, same as he carried Bobby’s ghost. There was shame all over him.”

  Graves gave Alecto a pointed look, then turned back to Thea. “What you’re able to see is virtues.”

  “Caving your stepson’s skull in with a shovel is a virtue? What, was he punishing Bobby Higgins for the sin of sloth, like you were punishing Flannery for whatever the hell sin you made up?”

  “Who’s Flannery?” Alecto asked.

  “Her cousin. It’s how I found her, on a job.” Graves looked back at Thea. “Contrition is a virtue. Did you tell anyone about Mr. Delacroix’s shame?”

  “I told everyone,” Thea said. “I didn’t know any better. Nobody believed me at first. But then I told them where to find Bobby’s body and the shovel.”

  “How did you know where they were?”

  “I had a vision. I’d been having those my whole life too, although not as often. And never that strong before.”

  “And were they grateful, when the case was solved?” Graves asked.

  “Mrs. Delacroix was. My mother was not.” Thea flung off a memory of her mother’s contorted face, the same way she would have flung off a spider that crawled onto her arm. “She took it as confirmation that I was a witch. And treated me accordingly.”

  “So you stopped telling people what you saw,” Graves said.

  “I stopped seeing altogether. I forced myself to.” Thea looked at Alecto. “So I suppose I could force myself to start again.”

  Alecto exchanged a look with Graves that Thea couldn’t read. He smiled at his niece.

  “You did agree that you would at least test her.”

  Alecto sighed. “I did, didn’t I?” She turned to Thea. “But if we take you to RDM to test you, there’s no going back.”

  “What’s RDM?”

  It was Graves who answered. “Research, Development, and Manufacturing. It’s where we develop and make hexes, among other things. The science building, if you like.”

  “And as such, it’s full of trade secrets,” Alecto said. “As you can imagine, we’re very careful about who we let see certain things. If you agree to take this test, you’re agreeing to become one of us. No question.”

  “But you just said you probably wouldn’t hire me. What happens if I fail your test?”

  Alecto shrugged, unconcerned. “Don’t come if you aren’t confident you can pass.”

  “How can I be confident if I don’t even know what the test is?”

  Alecto gave Graves an impatient look. “I told you she was weak.”

  Graves in turn glared at Thea. No doubt he interpreted her very reasonable questions as asking for coddling. She almost told them both to fuck off. This place was feeling more dangerous by the minute, and now they were threatening to what? She didn’t even know. It would be completely stupid to follow them to this place with no idea what they’d do to her there, after Alecto had just flat-out told her there would be no going back.

  No going back to what?

  Okay, there was that. She had nothing to go back to. Nobody who would miss her, except Aunt Bridget, and Bridget would miss Flannery more. No home, just an impersonal apartment with white walls and no pictures. And when that stopped feeling safe, a new impersonal apartment, somewhere else, each one blurring into the next until she died alone behind a taped door.

  We can make her strong.

  “It’s fine,” she said. “Let’s just go.”

  The RDM building was one story, red brick like the others on campus, sprawling and oddly shaped. It was apparently kept locked, which struck Thea as a fire hazard, but she didn’t think it a good time to offer constructive criticism. Alecto positioned her shoulder so Thea couldn’t see what she punched into the keypad.

  It was humid inside, and smelled like an indoor pool. Graves and Alecto led Thea into what seemed to be the main lab, a cavernous room in the center of the building that was cluttered with desks, cubicles, long tables, and shelves. The whole thing looked like chaos. Thea wondered how they could possibly keep track of everything, or anything.

  A wiry fury with a shock of red hair that clashed with his skin rose from the nearest desk to greet them.

  “Nero,” said Graves. “This is Thea. New recruit.”

  “Potential recruit,” Alecto corrected as Thea shook Nero’s hand. “I need to do some testing on her, is Maggie here?”

  Nero nodded and gestured vaguely behind him.

  Alecto led them through the lab to a white door on the other side. Thea tried not to stare, but it was difficult when everywhere she looked were furies working with balls of light or shadow, clouds of gas in various smoky colors, and over one desk, what looked like a waterfall, suspended in midair and flowing into nothing. But she remembered Alecto’s warning about trade secrets, and didn’t ask any questions.

  Alecto walked into the office without knocking. The woman behind the desk was identical to her, except when she stood Thea could see that she was shorter, and when she approached, that her eyes were a much plainer shade of brown. Alecto introduced her as Megaira, the head of RDM.

  Graves wasn’t so formal. He hugged his niece tightly and said, “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  Megaira shrugged. “I’ve been working a lot, having meals brought here.”

  “Ever the mad scientist,” Graves said with a laugh. “Okay, so we need to do some tests on Thea here. Virtues and vices, then hex resistance and removal.”

  Megaira’s eyebrows shot up. “Resistance and removal? A human?”

  “We wouldn’t be interrupting you if it wasn’t for something special,” he said.

  “All right. Grab Nero and meet us in Room 7,” Megaira said to Graves, then to Thea, “Follow me.” She was all business, but she didn’t seem as hard or unwelcoming as her sister.

  Room 7 had three walls made of what appeared to be some sort of plastic, and one made of glass. Behind the latter was another small room, where most of the party would be observing whatever they were going to do to Thea. Nero was the only one in the room with her. He had a small black box in his hand.

  “Okay, let me walk you through this,” Nero said. “Alecto probably wouldn’t, just to make you more nervous, but I’m nicer than that.”

  Apparently they could hear what was going on, because Alecto tapped on the glass and glared at him. Nero didn’t seem worried about it. He just waved back at her with a grin.

  Thea relaxed the slightest bit, not so much because of his words, but because he himself seemed so relaxed. “I appreciate that.”

  “First part’s easy. We’re just going to test what you can sense. I want you to focus on me, and see if you can tell anything about me. Good or bad.”

  “Like shame?”

  “Anything at all.”

  Thea took a deep breath. She’d closed off her powers so well, all those years ago. But she’d felt something since she’d come through the Hexing House g
ates, like a low level vibration, humming inside her. Maybe it would be easier here. She crossed her arms and looked at Nero. He didn’t seem discomfited by it, so she let herself stare.

  At first nothing happened, and Thea started to feel sweat trickling down her back. She struggled to stay focused. And not to cry. But after a minute there it was, just as she remembered it: not a cloud or a color or anything at all that she could see. If anything, it was more like a scent, or maybe the recollection of a scent. In this case, a soft, salty sort of smell.

  “You don’t drink,” she said. “You take good care of yourself.”

  Nero laughed. “All my astonishingly good qualities, and that’s what you see? Well, temperance is an underrated virtue. Anything else?”

  She’d never seen more than a single, defining characteristic, and even then only when it was intensely there, as Mr. Delacroix’s shame had been. But she tried, and found that she could.

  “You’re brave and dedicated. A hard worker.”

  “What about my temper?”

  Thea shrugged. “I couldn’t say.”

  “Virtues only,” Nero said with a glance behind the glass. Graves nodded.

  “What does that mean?” Thea asked.

  “It’s still more than most humans can do. Everything we do here is about vices and virtues, so it all starts with being able to see them. The next step is manipulating them.”

  Nero opened the box he was carrying, then focused his gaze on her. There was the slightest violet glow in his eyes. He made a throwing motion.

  Thea couldn’t see anything, but she felt it, trying to settle over her. She pushed it away with barely a thought.

  “That was a low level hex,” Nero said.

  Thea frowned. “What’s the box for?”

  He returned her confused look. “I just told you, for the hex.”

  “You need the box to cast the spell? Wouldn’t you be better off with a wand or something?”

  “Oh, I see what you’re asking.” He smothered a laugh. “No, we’re furies, not wizards. Hexes aren’t spells. You don’t cast them on people, you cast them at people.”

  “So it’s a physical thing?”

  “No, actually, it’s not. But we’re able to contain it in this physical object, because it’s been enchanted.”