by J. L. Weil
I smiled and whispered, “I can feel it.”
“Good. Now let’s use it. Your powers seem to have an affinity with the elements, according to what Gavin has seen. Concentrate on something from nature.”
Something from nature. The first thing that popped into my mind was a butterfly. I pictured the soft, pale yellow wings that sometimes hovered in the large tree outside my house. How its tiny wings sunbathed on the tree limbs during the summer.
A tingle started at the base of my spine.
I bite my lip and opened my eyes. Nothing. “It didn’t work,” I said deflated. She could see the disappointment in my eyes.
“There won’t always be so much preparation. Just like anything new, the more you practice, the more in tune you will be with your powers.” She looked above my head at Gavin and Jared. “You guys need to leave, you’re distracting her. Especially you,” she said, pointedly to Gavin.
I could feel him smirking behind me, but neither protested as they walked back inside the house. My cheeks bloomed in color at her insinuation. “Why was it so simple before with Gavin?” I groaned, thinking about the light we had produced together.
“Because you’re fighting it. Before you didn’t know what you could do. You opened yourself up on faith and trust, but you are unwilling to trust in yourself. It is holding you back. Believe,” she told me.
Believe that I was a witch. Believe in myself. Take a leap of faith. That was asking a lot. But what choice did I have?
With a deep breath, I closed my eyes to try again. I gathered all my determination and attention into envision the single butterfly, except this time, I multiplied it by a dozen. Maybe the more I conjured in my mind would help boost my magic. Whenever I thought of spells before, I thought of hocus pocus rhymes. I couldn’t decide if this was harder or easier, harnessing power this way.
The tingling tripled, expounding throughout my body and filling me with a heady feeling I craved more of. My mind wanted to get swept away in the sensation.
“Brianna,” Sophie called. “Brianna!” It wasn’t until the third or fourth time that her voice penetrated through my wall of concentration.
This time when I opened my eyes, a whole new sight beheld me. Hundreds of butterflies in vibrant colors danced in the air around me, purples, blues, turquoise, pinks. I’ve never seen such beautiful species before. Their delicate wings fluttered against my cheeks like tissue paper. I held out my hand, and a lilac butterfly with black spots landed on the tip of my finger. Laughing, I realized that magic didn’t have to be scary, dark or unnatural. It could be wonderful.
I peered into the large picture window and saw Gavin grinning at me through the glass, his dark poetic features reflecting the excitement inside me.
“Holy crap,” Sophie breathed. “I didn’t think I was going to be able to reach you.” There were butterflies in her hair.
“Did I do something wrong?” I asked. The butterflies had begun to spread out and take flight with the gentle breeze.
“Are you kidding me?” Her grin said it all. “You just blew the roof off that spell. There must be two hundred butterflies. Very impressive. He was right, you know. I’ve never felt so much untapped energy before, and you weren’t even at full potential.”
My smile lost some of its luster. The insinuation at me being powerful sent a stream of worried inside me. I’d barely accepted I had magic. The last thing I wanted was the kind of responsibility that came with having gobs of power. I didn’t want to be different. For once in my life, I wanted to be like everyone else, or in this case, like other witches.
Gavin and Jared came back outside swatting at my butterflies. “You’re a natural,” Jared stated, his dimples making an appearance.
“Great,” I muttered.
Gavin must have noticed the shift in my attitude. He came to my side and whispered, “Let’s go to my room. I think we’ve had enough witchery for one day.”
I stared into his eyes, and then nodded. “Thanks, Sophie,” I called over my shoulder as we headed for the house. Most of the butterflies had taken off in flight.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, the moment we stepped into his room. It was just as I remembered and smelled just like him.
I sighed. “Everyone keeps telling me how much power I have. I don’t want it. I don’t want to be some uber witch.”
“You might not have much choice in the matter.”
“That’s just it. I’m scared. What if I can’t control it? You’ve told me that I’ve used it before, and I never even knew.”
“You used magic on me the first time we kissed,” he revealed, taking a step closer to me. The air suddenly charged with my aggravation and his aggression.
I didn’t know how that was supposed to make me feel better, because it didn’t. If anything, I felt worse. “What are you talking about?”
“I felt it that night, under the moon. You demanded me to kiss you. Your eyes were glowing with this incredible dark purple, the moon reflecting in your eyes. I’d never seen eyes as beautiful as yours when under magic.”
“Are you saying I made you kiss me?” Dread wove in my belly at the anticipation of his answer.
“No…it wouldn’t have worked if I hadn’t wanted you. It wasn’t a compulsion spell, but a nudge,” he said backing me into a corner.
I ran a frazzled hand through my hair. Would everything in my life be so complicated? “I can’t believe I used magic to make you kiss me,” I said in mortification, completely unaware that he had me cornered.
“You didn’t make me Bri,” he said, but I wasn’t listening anymore.
“I’m sorry,” I uttered and turned to leave.
He blocked my exit, fingers sliding under my chin and tipped my face up. “I’m not,” he said, and then the world rocked on its axis.
He cupped the back of my head, bringing his mouth down on mine. Before I even registered that he was kissing me, there was a burst of heat gulfing every corner of my body.
My back pressed into the wall as he deepened the kiss, and I relished in his taste. Dark and delicious. The scent of him heightened every tiny, blissful tingle.
My world shattered.
Ravenously, my fingers curled into his dark hair, keeping him close him, but not matter how close we were, there still seemed to be too much space between us. I couldn’t get enough of him. Even as the contours of his body molded to mine, it didn’t satisfy the craving for more.
I sank into his lips, basking in the feel of his silver hoop teasing my mouth. The urge to tug on it was almost too much to resist. I’d waited for this moment for eternity— a guy who made me feel beyond amazing.
Moaning on an explosion of hunger, his hands roamed, skimming the sides of my breast. A shiver raced down my spine at the contact.
His mouth pulled just a breath away. “Tell me I didn’t make you do that,” I whispered.
“No, you didn’t,” he sighed. “I don’t want to let you go,” he confessed.
“Don’t,” I murmured.
“I don’t know that I have a choice,” he admitted, struggling with his emotions. “There is so much you don’t understand… that I don’t understand.”
My eyes sought his. “What more do you need to know? I thought my being a witch was what you wanted. Now, you’re telling me that you don’t know what you want?”
And just like that, the mood was blown. I was tired of feeling misplaced and disconcerted. I wasn’t a yoyo.
“It’s not that simple, Bri,” he argued.
“Nothing is with you. I think you should take me home,” I stated, emotionally spent.
Chapter 27
After he dropped me off, I left his car without even a good-bye. I rushed inside, tiptoeing into my room, avoiding my aunt. I didn’t want to be disturbed or talk. If she took one look at me, she would see the raw emotions I couldn’t hide.
Closing the door softly behind me, the room was submerged in darkness. I reached for the light switch, fumbling along the wall, and m
iscalculated how far the switch was. Instead of my hand connecting with the switch as I expected, my head connected with the door of my bathroom.
Everything went black.
When I awoke, I wasn’t alone, and I was most certainly not in my room. There was giant-sized knot on the side of my head and a killer thumping at my temples. I raised a hand to the side of my head as I scrambled off the ground, catching a flash of red in the corner of my eye.
What the—?
“Hey!” I yelled after the figure.
What is going on?
I took off, my feet hitting the pavement at a dead run. Not precisely the smartest move. My head protested at the quick movements, slowing me down. But I didn’t stop. Something was telling me I had to follow the figure.
As I turned the corner, a woman with flaming hair and burning violet eyes so like mine stood a few feet in front of me. She had a twisted smile on her lips, and I couldn’t help think she looked like an enchantress. And then it dawned on me.
Holy Picasso.
She was the woman from the painting in the Mason’s library. What had Gavin said her name was?
For the life of me, I couldn’t remember.
It didn’t matter. She was beckoning me forward. I didn’t see how I had a choice. I had no idea how I got here, where I was, or what she wanted with me.
So, of course, I followed her.
As we walked, I studied her, fascinated by her presence and the amount of confidence she oozed. Stunning in a black dress, her hair whipped out around her, a striking contrast to the dark clothing she wore. I tore my gaze from her to look at my surroundings.
Sand squished under my feet, and in the distance, the shoreline came into view. I noticed the houses up on the embankment. We were in Holly Ridge. We weren’t far from Gavin’s house and only a block or two from mine. Somewhere in the middle was my guess.
But there was something unusual about this Holly Ridge. The houses seemed out of place— different—— older, I guess.
A gentle breeze ruffled my hair, and for the first time, I looked down at myself. What the hell was I wearing? Where were my jeans and tank top? I was in a freaking dress, a white lacy one at that, similar in style to what the flaming-haired woman wore. The top cinched at my waist in an old fashion corset. And I was barefoot. Whose butt was I going to have to kick for putting me in such a frilly outfit?
Occasionally, the woman would glance over her shoulder at me to see if I was still following. Our identical eyes caught, and her name vibrated in my head.
Morgana le Fey.
Now I knew I hit my head a lot harder than I thought.
When we reached the shoreline, my feet sunk into the cool sand. The sky was dark and thickly layered in ominous clouds.
I’d grown tired of chasing after her. “What do you want?” I called.
My feet were tired and beaten from the lack of protection, and I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to keep up with her. We were fighting against a wind that seemed to be getting stronger with each step, and I fleetingly wondered if I was the cause. Maybe I was unintentionally using my magic. Where my emotions were concerned, anything was possible. What I did know was, my body wasn’t up to this long trek after being knocked unconscious.
Morgana never acknowledged my voice, but kept her steady, grueling pace down the beach. I hadn’t the slightest idea what I was doing out here in the middle of the night following a dead and possibly fictional woman. The more I thought on it, the less smart it became. I wanted to deny the part of me that was pulled to follow her. I wanted to tell it to go to hell. My subconscious didn’t care what I wanted, and I wasn’t sure I could stop. I was beginning to think she had put a spell me.
We continued to trudge across the beach with the wind picking up speed at our approach. There was a connection to the air around me. It tugged in my core, urging me to take control of it, no matter that my body was exhausted and worn. I crossed my arms over my chest, tucking them under and refusing the pull.
Without the knowledge of the extent of my own powers, and the ability to govern them, it was best to avoid using them. Even as I thought that, another part of me highly disagreed. It fought to surface and demanded to break free.
When I thought this was never going to end, she stopped in her tracks, turning to me with a troublesome grin on her blood red lips. Her back faced the dark waters, crimson hair and dark dress twirling with the winds. “Brianna, my child, it is time for you to embrace your heritage,” she said, her voice powerful. She threw out her arms, and the sky opened up in disorder at her command. Wow, and I thought I had temperamental storm problems. She made me look like an amateur.
What did she mean heritage? I didn’t have time to dwell on it, because magic flowed from her to the storm brewing. The electrifying energy of her spell cloaked around me, summoning me to join her. The call was impossible to ignore, and as molten power flowed through my veins, I mimicked her movements, incapable of doing anything else. Together our spell intertwined, and became so dominant and forceful I felt as if we could easily destroy Holly Ridge with a flick of our finger. Nothing ever felt so wickedly good, like I was born for a purpose.
My head back fell back, thunder cracking in the clouds and bolts of lightning shooting from the sky. Her siren voice sounded in my head, encouraging me, not that I needed much motivation at this point. My magic recognized hers like they were long-lost friends. Our spells blended harmoniously and effortlessly together as one.
“Born of my magic and blood, you shall be mine,” she belted over the turning seas and howling winds.
With each word came a bolt force, radiating power. If I had been in my right mind, I would have been frightened. As the richness of power engulfed me, a warning went through my head, whispering to me. Gavin’s name echoed in the forefront of my mind. I remembered him telling me how my moods often dictated the weather because I was insentiently using magic; weathercasting was what he called it. Glancing at the ferocious storm concocting, I knew this wasn’t me, but I didn’t know how to break the hold the intoxicating spell had over me.
I didn’t how to get out of here or away from her, but there was an internal urge that insisted I call for help in my single moment of sanity. Only one person made a habit of saving me and was on the tip of my tongue before I second guessed myself.
“Gavin,” I yelled, over and over again.
I needed to wake from this nightmare, if it was indeed a dream. I prayed it was.
My faith sunk as nothing happened. No shift in the air. No fireflies. No Gavin. The energy I was projecting stumbled in my discouragement, yet I couldn’t stop it. It was as if she was sucking the power from me.
Without him, I didn’t know what hope I had of getting out of this perilous situation.
Just when I was about to give up all hope, a shadowy form appeared higher on the bank. He looked fierce, dangerous and pissed off. “Bri!” Gavin shouted.
Morgana’s head whipped up at his voice. He started to make his way toward me and dread spilled into my belly. I didn’t want her attention focused on Gavin.
I suddenly regretted bringing him in the middle of this mess.
“You cannot be here,” Morgana hissed, displeased with Gavin’s appearance. Her eyes darkened to the deepest shade of purple, a hint above pitch black. Fear stabbed at my heart. All I could think was not him. If she hurt Gavin because I brought him here, I would never be able to forgive myself. That much I was at least certain of. Damn. It looked like I was going to have to head-to-head with a bat-shit crazy witch.
Morgana shifted her energy at Gavin. I felt the alteration, as our magic was no longer joined. The release left me bewildered for a few seconds, and then without a second thought, I threw myself in between Morgana and Gavin.
The stream of magic came straight at me. The sheer force of it knocked me back ten feet, as I sailed like a doll in the air. I landed flat on my ass, the air knocked out of my lungs, and I was left gasping.
Gavin kn
elt beside me, brushing the hair out of my face. His touch made me realize I was still alive; the fireflies were still zooming inside me. I must not be dead.
“Silly girl,” Morgana’s voice broke through the pain. “He has no part in this.” Her voice dripped with venom and spite.
And once again I felt the draw of her magic, pulling me. Bitch was relentless. She had started the spell again.
Could I just get a break already?
Severe winds, twice as strong as before, kicked up sand in our face. Visibility was out of the question, and I lost sight of her. Deep out in the ocean, a monster hurricane rose from the violent waters, groaning with sickening power. It spun in rapid circles, heading for shore. With each passing second, the whirlwind picked up speed and strength, ready to destroy anything in its path, including us.
“Bri!” Gavin called over the deafening winds, running his hands over my limbs, checking for injuries. “You need to wake up! You have to fight this and wake up. It is the only way to stop the storm,” he screamed.
Wet sand plastered to my skin. “I don’t know how,” I admitted, my own voice sounding raspy and foreign.
“You do,” he insisted. “Focus. Use your power to make yourself wake up. Break through the spell she has woven to keep you here.”
He was right. I had to try. I had to save us. I closed my eyes and searched the hum of energy. The crazy chaotic circumstances made it way more difficult to concentrate. Somehow I was able to find the thread I needed. With every last bit of vigor I had left, the magic merged into my bloodstream, and I chanted, Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!
The world went silent. I could no longer sense Gavin beside me. Collapsed on the shore, the white dress was plastered against me my skin covered in sand. Morgana’s temptress laugh ran in my ears, but she was nowhere to be found. Soaked to the bone, I laid on the beach, too exhausted to move.