When I don’t immediately reply because I am still not speaking to or wanting to make eye contact with this man ever again, he starts circling me. I don’t like his eyes on me and he is looking me up and down, studying my body as if I am a puzzle that needs to be solved. He comes to my back, and I can feel his breath on my bare shoulders. I’m cursing Elise again for choosing this dress for me with the fully exposed back as I feel Spencer’s fingers trace my shoulder blade with the tenderness of a child.
“Aha,” he says in my ear, “found it.” That breath on my neck sends a chill down my spine, and I know that he can see the goose bumps that have formed all over my body. I should be embarrassed at the reaction, but this man has seen me in every way possible, why should I be ashamed further?
“This might hurt a little,” he states as he pulls a Swiss Army knife out of his pocket and I turn on him, quickly veering toward Reece like he is my only chance for salvation.
Reece shelters me behind him and turns to Spencer once again with irritation rolling off of his shoulders in waves. “For Christ’s sake, Spencer! You can’t just pull out a knife and not tell her what you are doing! The woman is already frightened witless by your abominable skill of mind fuckery. What do you expect her to do, just stand there and let you sink a knife into her back as well?”
“I’m trying to help her!” Spencer snarls the words, but when he looks at me, his whole demeanor changes and he seems chastised. “I’m sorry, okay? You have a trace underneath your right shoulder blade. It looks like a mole, but it’s actually what your husband has been using to track you.” He starts slowly towards me again with his arms up, the knife still held in his left hand. He looks at Reece as if asking permission to come closer, and Reece turns around to face me.
“He is just going to scrape the trace off. It may hurt just a bit. Nothing you can’t handle, though.” His eyes wander back to the scar on my eyebrow. I wish he didn’t know about what Donovan has done to me. It almost pains me more for him to pity me than the blow that put the scar there in the first place. Almost.
I nod my assent and turn around, bracing for the pain when I feel Spencer’s nearness again. He caresses me with a couple of whisper-soft strokes on my shoulder blade, and I hear him murmur one word quietly in my ear. “Tranquil,” he says it delicately, and yet there is a sense of influence behind it that makes my entire body relax. I find myself leaning back into his touch and completely forgetting the fact that he is about to cut something off of my body. The next thing I know, he is drawing away from me and I am missing the feel of his warm body behind me.
Momentarily dazed, I turn around to see Spencer’s back as he retreats from the room and Reece, brows furrowed and arms crossed, looking at me as if I did something wrong.
“Where did Spencer go? Isn’t he going to remove this thing from my back?” I ask him.
“He already did, Phee,” Reece replies tightly. “He put a Bind on you to get you to relax, and I think it made you a bit sleepy. You’ve been lying against his chest for the past ten minutes. I think it freaked him out.”
“Ten minutes? No way, I’ve only been waiting for him to remove it for a minute at the most.” Great, I’m losing small blocks of time now? Donovan must have bashed my head up against that wall harder than I thought. “Why do you keep calling me Phee, anyway?”
Reece’s face evens out at my question and he develops a pensive look. “I’m sorry. I am so used to hearing Donovan call you that, I kind of just started thinking of you as Phee. I’ll stop if it bugs you.”
“I don’t mind you using it. It actually sounds nice coming from you. Donovan only used it to hurt me. My mom always called me that. I told him when we were dating that it was her nickname for me but that it made me miss her to hear it. He only called me that when he was irritated with me. Looking back, yeah, you probably heard it a lot. By the way, two years? How have you been watching me for two years? You’ve only been my driver for the last few weeks.”
“Oh, you noticed that, huh? We have a lot to talk about, but first, I agree with Spencer for once. Cass, take Ophelia to get cleaned up and give her some new clothes. Put her in the room next to you, and then both of you meet me down in the kitchen.”
Cass links her arm through mine as if we are best buddies. “Come on, I have just the thing for you to lounge in, Ophelia.”
I hurry from the room with her, hoping to get cleaned up and changed quickly. If Reece is going to offer me some answers and explanations, I won’t be dawdling to get them, no matter how badly I’d like to stand under a hot shower until the water runs cold.
Turns out that Cass’s idea of comfy loungewear isn’t exactly the same as mine. I return from my fast but wonderfully hot shower to find a very short pair of red cotton shorts and matching tank top both adorned with Hello Kitty—the tank top with the huge hair-bowed cat’s head over my breasts and the shorts with the same image; only this one is placed directly across my derrière.
I lie back on the big comfy queen-sized bed of my new cell, which is not grey at all by the way, and wish that I could just curl up and go to sleep. This day has really drained me. The list of questions swirling around in my head is the only motivation I have for pulling myself up and heading to the room next to mine to get Cass.
She is lying on the floor on top of a hot pink rag rug with a pair of earphones on, singing, when I nudge her door open. I stop for a second just to take her in. She has also changed for the evening into a pair of soft grey capri pajama pants and a cadet blue t-shirt that says Talk Nerdy to Me across the chest. She has one leg propped up on her other knee and is swaying her slippered foot to the tune she’s listening to. I wonder how long it’s been since I’ve felt as carefree as she looks, belting out the song on her iPod.
She notices me standing there and pulls the headphones off, her cheeks flush from the exertion of singing and probably embarrassment at me watching her.
“How old are you, Cass?”
“Seventeen, but I’ll be eighteen in four months,” she says quickly. “Yay, adulthood!”
I wish at this moment that I could be seventeen with her. We would sit together, sharing our music, gossiping about boys or whatever was on our minds. I wouldn’t have to worry about being Donovan Brand’s wife, or whatever it is that I feel I am preparing to face with the knowledge that Reece hopefully shares with me tonight. At seventeen, I didn’t have any friends to do anything like that with, but I did have my mother…
“Where are your parents, do they live here too?” I had heard Spencer say that Cass and Reece came here together, but I wondered if their parents came with them.
“They’re dead,” she says and then notices my discomfort at bringing it up. “No, they died when I was two, so no sad face, please. I grew up at St. Francis’s orphanage. That’s were Reece found me when I was 13, after the reform policies were set in place.”
“Reece found you? I thought you were brother and sister. What are the reform policies? I keep hearing that—reform policies, reformatories, and such. What does it mean?”
“Nope, not siblings, although we have been together, just the two of us against everyone for the last four years, well… until Spencer decided to stick his nose in our business and Reece decided to let him. We had the jump on you for two years already before Spencer was able to even get any intelligence into the Brand household. That’s why he wanted us, of course.” Cass puffs up her chest as if she were the brains behind their surveillance of my life. I find it a bit endearing that this young girl took interest in my life, even if it was to spy on me. I had not thought that anyone cared about my existence for so long.
“Well, thank you for spying on me, and even more, thank you for getting me out of there. If these people can keep me safe from Donovan like they seem to think they can, I am in a much better predicament than I was before.” I purposely look her in the eye when I say it, hoping that she can sense my earnest sentiments. “You know the hell I’ve been living in, you could have potentially saved
my life.”
“Hey, don’t thank me,” she says, but I can tell that she is glorying in this moment, “it was Reece’s call to take you out of there. He was supposed to wait until Spencer thought it was the right time, but he pulled you early. That’s why they were fighting earlier. Spencer gets pissed when his commands are disregarded, the dick. Anyway, speaking of Reece, he’s probably waiting for us in the kitchen by now. He’d be the one to tell you about the reform policy, since he’s done some surveillance outside of the reformatories. I was too young when those laws went into place anyway, don’t know much about them except that they are jacked.”
She gets up and I follow her back to the kitchen. Reece is sitting on a bar stool at the huge black granite island eating a bowl of what looks to be Spaghettios, ick. He sets the bowl down and wipes his face with the back of his hand when he sees us, and his eyes linger a little too long on my ensemble before lingering even longer on my exposed legs.
“Cass, really? The Hello Kitties, this is what you come up with for her? You know how much I hate that get up.”
Mental note: give Cass a thorough friendly pummeling later for the outfit.
“I knew you hated it on me, didn’t think you’d mind it on Ophelia. Besides, she looks cute in it.”
“If you say so,” Reece replies, and I feel even worse. Okay, maybe my girly insecurities are coming out, but it bothers me that he doesn’t agree with the cute comment. A guy’s got to know the untold girl rule, never disagree with another girl’s compliment, even if said compliment is directly linked to the Hello Kitty vomit I am currently wearing. Oh, can I get any more pathetic? Besides, I’m married for goodness’ sake, even if it is to the devil. Why do I care what an extremely good-looking guy with extremely sexy stubble thinks about my appearance? All right, enough with the drooling. I need answers.
“So,” I start, “you were going to tell me about ‘our kind’, whatever that means and I have a million questions, too.” I slide onto one of the barstools. There is one more between us, so I can get a good look at him as he is divulging this much needed information.
“Yes, I did and I am, but first, you need to eat. A couple bites of granola bar is all you’ve had in the last twenty-four hours.”
Hmm, has it only been twenty-four hours? With everything that has happened, it feels much longer. I can see the dusk of early evening setting in through the kitchen window and I think about how strange the last day has been just as my belly growls.
“Yep, your stomach seems to be in agreement with me,” Reece states smugly.
“I’m going to make some tomato soup and grilled cheese, you want?” Cass asks as she noisily pulls out a saucepan and a Panini press from under the cabinets and sets two cans of Campbell’s soup on the counter. It has been so long since I’ve had anything as simple as canned soup and sandwiches, my mouth starts watering immediately like Pavlov’s dog at the sight.
“I think her drool is speaking for her, Cass, and that would be a yes. I’ll have some too,” Reece says.
I shoot him a dirty look as I wipe the back of my hand over my mouth. I wasn’t drooling …much. As Cass sets about making our simple meal, I turn back to Reece, ready to bombard him with questions, but he beats me to the punch.
“Okay, the first thing you need to know about us: we are Mages. Not witches with pointy hats and broomsticks, not Wiccans holding hands and dancing around under the full moon, and definitely not creepy looking magicians who make things appear and disappear with a puff of smoke. There are no magic words like Harry Potter and, don’t worry, no potions or eye of newt so you won’t have to sit through Snape’s class either.”
“Wait a minute, how are there no magic words? I heard you say something to me…what was it… Repose? Before I conked out last night…and what was with Donovan whispering in my ear and me becoming jelly girl? How can there be no magic words if you both have used them on me?” Great, we have just started and I am already confused. I hope he is telling me the truth.
“Phee, there are no specific magic words, just intentions and they are called Binds. Let me backtrack a little and give you some of the basics about our people. Mages are split into two groups, Naturals and Ascendants. When a Natural is born, they already have all of the ability that they will ever have in their lives. They can’t acquire any new abilities and they can’t perform Binds on anyone. Ascendants, on the other hand, come into their powers around the age of five. They all have certain levels of power. Some children will show an immense amount from the get-go and others will display only a mediocre level. The amount of power an Ascendant has dictates the abilities they can perform. It’s up to the Ascendant’s parents or guardians to teach them how to use and develop each ability and how to perform Binds. A Bind is a Mage’s way of manipulating people or things to achieve a particular outcome. Yes, sometimes Mages use words to send out those influences, but they are directly related to each individual Mage’s will. I said repose to you the other night because I wanted you to go to sleep. I just said the word as a way of articulating my will, but it could have been any word, so long as the intentions behind it were the same. Some Mages don’t even need to do that, they can just think their will towards the object of it and whatever they want will be done. Again, it goes by level of power and also what the Mage is comfortable doing.”
My eyebrows squinch together. “Okay, still not making any sense to me, Reece.”
“All right, I’ll give you some examples,” he says, seemingly unfazed by my lack of comprehension. “Cass is a moderate level Ascendant. She can do things like that—” he points to the stove where I am amazed to see a spoon stirring the soup all by itself, while Cass is placing hot sandwiches on a plate on the other side of the kitchen. “There are quite a few things she can do, but you won’t find her peeking around in your head like Spencer. She doesn’t have that kind of ability.”
“Hey, I’m still learning!” Cass interjects as she places the plate in front of us. “It’s not my fault that I grew up with a bunch of commons and was never trained properly,” she huffs.
“I never said it was, darlin’,” Reece says as he grabs a sandwich and takes a bite. “There is so much you’ll be able to do in time, but we both know you aren’t at Spencer’s level.” He gives her a placating smile, and she seems to get over her annoyance as she goes over to the cabinet to get out some bowls.
Reece begins again. “Now, take our techie friend Alberto Jenkins, or Jinx, as everyone refers to him. Jinx is a Natural. He was born with the gift of manipulating technology. If you give the guy any electronic gizmo, he will have it mastered within seconds. However, he will never be able to make a gorgeous woman fall to his mercy by putting her to sleep in the back of a car; he just doesn’t have the ability.”
“Oh, so, Naturals aren’t as powerful then?” I chime in, feeling like I am finally getting somewhere and turning red at his gorgeous woman comment.
“There are two schools of thought on that. Naturals are confined to one power. However, that one thing they can do is mastered better than the whole array of things an Ascendant can do. Also, they are protected from revealing themselves to other Mages with the spark. So, on one hand, limited ability, and on the other, the ability they possess is extremely powerful, and they can escape detection from other Mages.”
When I give him another quizzical look, he continues, “The spark is what an Ascendant gives off every time his body comes into contact with another Mage. It’s just a quick brush of power, but the stronger the Ascendant, the stronger the feeling. Naturals don’t give off the spark, but they can feel it from Ascendants.”
“Wait, that doesn’t make sense.” I shake my head. All of a sudden, I’m wondering if any of this is true. “You say that I am a Mage, and yet, I haven’t ever felt a spark off of anyone in my life.”
“That is curious.” Reece tilts his head slightly and studies me for a second, perplexed.
“It’s because of the Binds on her,” Spencer declares from the doorw
ay, startling all of us, including Cass who was pouring soup into little white ceramic bowls. She spills a little at his words and turns to give him dagger eyes. They go unnoticed by Spencer as Reece starts to speak again.
“A Bind… of course,” he says, as if it should have been obvious. “Phee, you must have some strong ones on you if you can’t feel the spark, especially if you’ve touched Oberon in the past.”
“They are some of the strongest Binds I have ever seen,” Spencer states. “It’s going to take some work to get them off of her.” He’s looking at me again like I’m a mystery to him, and I don’t know why when there is no mystery left between us now.
Binds, schminds. I’m stuck on something else now. “You keep talking about this Oberon person. Who is he?”
“Your dear old dad,” Spencer says with what sounds like an antagonistic chuckle. Reece puts his sandwich down and makes a noise of derision.
“My dad?” I question.
“Well, he is a father to you, of sorts,” Spencer says quickly. When I don’t catch on he adds, “That would be your father-in-law.”
“My father-in-law?” I’m dumbfounded. Ronald Brand, Chancellor Brand is this Oberon character? No freaking way. I knew he was a tyrannical douchebag, but now to know that he is some super Mage? My fear has ratcheted up a few notches. I can’t imagine the evil crap the bastard has been up to with the use of magic.
Spencer and Reece are both looking at me now. I can feel their eyes on me, waiting to get my reaction from this nugget, but I am exhausted and at the point that not much is really going to be shocking me now. For cripes’ sake, I have just learned that I am one of those fantastical magical people who doesn’t know anything about how to use magic. What could surprise me now?
I decide to skip any more questions about Oberon, for now. I just want Reece to tell me about the reform policy, to finish my dinner, and for Spencer to go away so I can go crawl into bed. I act as if I don’t care about Spencer’s last statement and touch Reece on the arm, asking him, “So, tell me about the reform policy and these reformatories that were mentioned earlier.”
Binds Page 5