Magic and Mayhem

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Magic and Mayhem Page 2

by S. Usher Evans


  It was new when she didn't come home.

  At first, I'd been terrified Gavon or Cyrus had taken her. After being kidnapped myself (and being plagued by dreams of it for weeks afterward), I was almost certain she was being tortured—or worse. Nicole had seemed less concerned, but to calm me down, she'd sent Marie a text, which came back with a read receipt. That was enough for her; after all, it was doubtful Cyrus knew how to work a phone. And there was probably no cell reception in New Salem.

  After three weeks and fifty more read-but-unanswered texts, I stopped trying. Whatever had set Marie off had been so bad that she didn't even want to communicate. And when an entire month passed without change, I realized this would be our new normal. Marie had always threatened to move out, but she hadn't even graduated high school. Though, knowing her, she'd probably used her magic to forge a diploma.

  But because I'm a glutton for punishment, I still sent her texts on birthdays and holidays, along with the occasional photo, and got read receipts back. Eighteen months seemed like a long time to hold a grudge, but that was Marie. Even though we'd never gotten along, I missed her. We'd formed this strange unspoken bond when she'd healed me after sparring lessons, although I'd found out it was only because Gavon had agreed to give her money in exchange.

  I glanced at my phone again. As far as I knew, Gavon had never made good on that promise, but Marie had to be getting money from somewhere. She was pretty, but she didn't like to work very hard. I tried not to think about all the other ways she could be supporting herself.

  But there was nothing to be done about it, so I silenced my phone and magicked it back into my backpack, shifting mentally from Marie to the day ahead.

  The first day of school always felt fresh and new, although today was bittersweet. Excited energy permeated the halls as I meandered toward the senior lockers. Doe-eyed freshmen greeted their friends and cast wary glances at seniors. Ragged juniors trudged like zombies, and I felt for them. My junior year had been jampacked with SATs, and college preparations, and every advanced and dual enrollment course I could fit into my schedule. This year seemed like a breeze comparatively, but I needed to keep my grades up all the way through to graduation. I had big plans, and I wasn't going to let anything derail them.

  I stopped in the middle of the hallway, my gaze landing on a new face. That, in and of itself, was cause for surprise. My school was pretty small, and rarely did we get new kids enrolling. But add on to that the dark hair and thick, gorgeous lashes lining light eyes that could've been blue or green. Sharp cheekbones and full lips that complimented his soft, pale skin. My magic definitely saw something it liked as it squirmed and throbbed in my stomach. I couldn't tear my eyes away, caught by the sexy way the corners of his mouth turned up in amusement when he caught me staring.

  At once, a thousand book-and-movie plots ran through my head and I hated myself for feeling so…smitten by a stranger. For all I knew, he could've been a serial killer—or worse, a distraction.

  College, Lexie. Remember you need to get into college. You need lots of money to get into college. You are broke. You have no parents.

  Well, I had a…

  No. No parents.

  I turned my flushed cheeks away, hoping it was just the shock of a new person that had caused such a reaction, and not that I was becoming, well, twitterpated. I'd had my share of crushes over the years, but my dating life was about as empty as my magic after I sparred. It was difficult to date in such a small school—most people were already paired off and would probably marry their significant other right out of school. Besides that, I'd always felt like an outsider, even before magic made the division clearer. I couldn't even count a best friend amongst my peers, let alone a boyfriend.

  But this guy, wow. Handsome and new. He'd get snapped up quick.

  By someone other than me. I had bigger things to focus on.

  Still, when he followed me into my first period class, my heart skipped a beat. His gaze lingered on me as he passed by to sit behind me, and my fluttering heart began to race. This couldn't be a coincidence. Was there actually a super cute guy who thought I was cute?

  I struggled to keep it together, feeling his gaze on the back of my head and worrying if I'd brushed my hair this morning. Or if my shirt was crooked, or my underwear was showing over the tops of my jeans, or—

  Get it together, Lexie.

  This was why I didn't date. Not even ten minutes after meeting this guy, and I was already a mess. I retrieved my English notebook from my bag and wrote down my to-do list for the evening, if only to tear my brain away from Super Hot Guy.

  Finally, the morning announcements were complete and the teacher, Ms. Grace, introduced herself and the expectations for the year. Then, she called attendance.

  "Alexis Carrigan?"

  I raised my hand. "I prefer Lexie."

  The boy snorted behind me, reminding me of his presence. Well, at the very least, I'd find out his name. Then I could spend the rest of the year trying to forget it. Maybe Ms. Grace would put us in alphabetical order, and he'd be on the other side of the classroom.

  "James Riley?"

  "Right here."

  The pen fell out of my hand.

  Three

  James Riley.

  James Riley.

  James Gavon's fricking apprentice Riley.

  My pulse pounded in my ears and my fingertips glowed. How could I not have remembered the son of a bitch who tried to kill me in a dueling match two years before?

  Oh yeah, I'd been too busy trying not get killed to decide if he was hot or not.

  Well, he was definitely hot. And definitely a serial killer.

  I glanced around the room, waiting for…something. Him to stand up and tell the class they were now under his…power? Something like that. But, except for the occasional sigh of boredom or scribble of his pencil, he caused no trouble. Ms. Grace was handing out the textbooks for the year, and when the stack came to me, I turned around and glared at him.

  "What the ever-loving hell are you doing here?"

  "Learning," he said, taking the stack from me with infuriating normalcy.

  "Learning what?"

  "Lexie, is it? Please keep conversations to a minimum," Ms. Grace said, walking by.

  The boy with the power to blow her to smithereens offered me nothing but a superior look, and I turned away from him.

  I heard nothing of what Ms. Grace was saying. Hell, I'd even forgotten what the class was about. Two years, I'd been waiting for this moment. Waiting for Cyrus to reappear and finish the job he'd started in my aunt's kitchen—

  "Careful, Alexis, you don't want the nonmagicals knowing your secret," came a deep voice in my ear.

  I glanced at my fingertips, now sparking with purple magic. Ignoring the lingering warmth of his breath on my neck, I inhaled and exhaled, forcing myself to calm down until the magic receded into my body. But my pulse remained elevated, my gaze on the windows of the classroom, searching for the evil magicals from New Salem that I knew were going to appear at any second—

  "I'm sorry, Lexie, am I boring you today?"

  I jumped out of my chair. Ms. Grace peered down at me, her arms folded across her chest. Someone began to snicker as I stared at the teacher, unsure what I'd done wrong or what I needed to say.

  "I asked if you would please read the first part of the syllabus to the class."

  I quickly recited the first paragraph about tardies and expectations, and she moved on to someone else.

  I heard his breathy chuckle behind me, and my anger returned. What did I care if Ms. Grace thought I wasn't paying attention? I was going to single-handedly save the school from all the evil magicals.

  Except, there was a severe lack of evil activity. There were no proclamations, no fireballs. None of the horrible things I'd lost countless hours of sleep over were happening.

  So what the hell was going on?

  I spent the class trying to keep my fingers from sparking and developing a strategy fo
r engaging with James. All the carefully laid plans went out the window when class ended, and I spun around in my chair.

  "Okay, what the hell are you doing here? What's your plan? Is Cyrus here? Is he ready for round two? Because I'm ready any—"

  "If Cyrus were here, do you think I would be?" he drawled placing the book into his bag. "I already told you, Alexis, I'm here to study. Same as you."

  "Bull fucking shit."

  He chuckled and swung the bag over his shoulder. "I'll have to tell your father about your swearing."

  Cold water doused my anger. Your father. He'd said it so casually, like it was a simple fact. And to him, it was. To me, it was an awful realization while sitting in a cold jail cell, being jeered at by a man who wanted me dead.

  Of the many things I'd never forgive, Gavon not telling me himself after we'd spent six weeks together was pretty close to the top. Right after him allowing Cyrus to kill my mother and aunt.

  James took my silence as a victory—the only one I swore he'd get—and left as if this was the most normal thing he'd ever done.

  "Lexie?" Ms. Grace said. "You'll be late for your next class."

  With a nod, I gathered my things and hurried off.

  Where the son of a bitch was waiting for me. Although this time, he was having an easy conversation with Callista, a pretty girl who'd been in some of my advanced classes. She was as excited about James as I'd been before I knew who he was, and I couldn't blame her. There was nothing about him that wasn't handsome. But I felt it my duty, as her classmate, to warn her.

  "I wouldn't if I were you," I said, walking to an empty seat nearby.

  "W-what?" Callista said, glancing between the two of us.

  I settled in my seat, unwilling to lose this war against him and glaring icy daggers at James. "He's not a good person. I'd avoid him."

  James glanced over his shoulder, reminding me of a cat lounging in the sun. "That's not very welcoming, Alexis."

  "My name is Lexie. And you aren't welcome here."

  "The name your father gave you is Alexis."

  My face must've betrayed the storm of emotions that f-word awoke in me, because James' grin widened.

  "I thought your father was dead, Lexie?" Callista asked, looking between us. "Or gone? Do you know her father? Where did you say you came from again?"

  James quirked a brow in my direction, and I dared him to say something. But the physics teacher called the class to take their seats to begin the period.

  I barely paid attention to the introductions, taking my textbook from James with a glower as I passed the stack behind me. Whatever he was playing at, I would find out and put a stop to it. Like hell he was just here to learn.

  But learn he did. From my vantage point behind him, he seemed for all the world like an earnest student. He wasn't called on to answer questions, nor did he offer any, but his pen was never far from the paper. If I hadn't known better, I would've thought he was just as studious as I was.

  But I did know better. Which was why I didn't believe any of it.

  When he showed up in my third period, I was now sure he'd be in every single one of my classes. Because why not? This was obviously an attempt to torture me into submission. Or to annoy me so much I'd make a mistake.

  Or maybe I already had. Perhaps Cyrus was using James as a decoy, and had already gone after my sisters. It had been three hours since I'd last seen Nicole. Could she already be dead?

  Panic blossomed in my chest, and I reached into my bag to search for my phone. Leaving it hidden in the bag, I hastily tapped out a message to Nicole.

  Are you all right?

  "Alexis, no phones in class," came the terse reply from the advanced vocabulary teacher.

  I put the phone down, blushing as James caught my eye with a smirk. Was that because I'd gotten in trouble, or because he had my sisters on the brink of death? Again, he offered me that curious quirk of his brow, as if he knew something I didn't and was enjoying it very much.

  My phone buzzed and I dove for it in my bag.

  Fine. Why wouldn't I be?

  "Lexie, if you don't put away your phone, I will have to take it."

  My face grew hot again, and I stashed the phone back in my bag. Nicole was safe, but what about Marie? A read receipt could be forged very easily. Cyrus could figure it out. Gavon could definitely figure it out. What if Marie had really been dead all this time or tortured and I hadn't even gone to look for her and—

  My breaths grew shorter and spots danced in front of my eyes. Not again. The last thing I needed was another panic attack. I was supposed to be a Warrior. How could I possibly defend my sisters if I couldn't even breathe right—

  Not helping.

  Heart pounding in my chest, I glanced around the room. I counted five items I saw: my pen, my notebook, the desk, the carpet, the shoe of the boy sitting in front of me. I touched the pen, felt the paper and the wood of the desk, then grabbed the cloth of my jeans. I listened, pinpointing the sound of the teacher, the squeak of the dry erase marker, and the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. I breathed in the cool, AC-filled air of the classroom, and caught a whiff of the perfume of the girl in front of me. And I bit my pen, tasting the plastic in my mouth. I repeated the process until the pounding in my chest subsided, which took a good twenty minutes.

  Then I exhaled, exhausted and embarrassed.

  After Jeanie had died, I'd started getting panic attacks, normally when I thought I saw Cyrus or dreamed about him. It was odd how I'd faced death without fear, but when it came to living after it, I was a chicken. So I'd Googled a few tricks for how to deal with it, mostly so I wouldn't have to burden Nicole with another cost, and had been using them ever since.

  But the attacks left me drained and miserable, not to mention ashamed that I couldn't control my own thoughts. Although at least this time, I had reason to be fearful.

  The anxiety still burned my chest, but it wasn't careening out of control anymore. No one was the wiser, and I wanted to keep it that way. Carefully, I chanced a look behind me at James. Head down, scribbling quickly, focused on the teacher. He met my gaze and smiled cruelly.

  I mustered what was left of my anger and glared back.

  I'd never been so thankful for lunch. At the very least, I knew I could slip away for an hour and no one would notice I was gone. I wanted to check on my sister, and on the spells I'd cast around our house.

  Nicole had worked at the local pharmacy even before Jeanie died. It honestly fit with her potion-making magic, not that she'd ever pick up a potion book again. Before things went to crap, she'd had aspirations of working as a chemical engineer at a pharmaceutical company. Now she stood at a cash register and dealt with crotchety old people all day. She swore she was happy, but it was a total lie.

  "Lexie! What are you doing here?" she asked, concern evident on her face as soon as she saw me. "Are you all right? You look pale."

  "Fine, fine, just…" The words died on my tongue. If I told Nicole that James was at school with me, she'd worry. Scratch that, she'd flip out and never let me leave the house. But she couldn't protect us against him or anyone else. So what good would come from stressing her out? This was my problem to deal with, not hers.

  "Lexie, are you sick?" She'd met me on the floor of the store and pressed a hand to my forehead. "You're sweating like crazy and you're clammy. Do I need to take you to the doctor?"

  "No!" I said. "No, I mean. I'm fine. Just wanted to see you. Make sure you're okay."

  She half-smiled. "I'm fine. What about you? Do you need to eat?"

  "Yeah, that's all. Just hungry." I needed to leave before I aroused more suspicion.

  "I told you you're working yourself too hard," Nicole said, pressing the back of her hand to my forehead to check again. "You're going to run yourself into the ground."

  "Sorry for worrying you," I said, stepping back. "I just needed…tampons. That's all."

  "I thought you wanted to make sure I was okay?" Nicole said, eyeing me.
"Lexie, is there something you aren't telling me?"

  And there it was, my opening to be honest with her. To just tell her James had shown up and I had no idea what it meant. To confess that I'd just had a panic attack when I thought of her and Marie dead and that I could probably use an anti-anxiety medication or maybe even a good therapist. To mention that I spent weekends sparring with a magical apparition of myself in case Cyrus came back and I had to protect the family.

  But I couldn't burden her, not when I'd already ruined so much of her life. Ignorance was bliss, and I promised myself this time, I would deal with the problem before anyone got hurt.

  "Lexie?" Nicole pressed.

  "I'm on my period. Of course I'm emotional right now."

  It was a boldfaced lie, but it worked. Nicole dropped her hands from my head and pursed her lips. "Okay…so what was that text earlier?"

  "Just… wanted to make sure you were having a good day at work." I needed to leave, before I blurted out the truth and made things worse. "Bye!"

  And with that, I darted out of the pharmacy.

  Are you okay?

  Read 12:52pm

  A few days ago, that would've been enough to quell my fears, but today I needed more proof. Which was why I was back in the apartment, digging through my closet until I found it: the hairbrush Marie had left when she'd stormed out. It was the only thing I had with her DNA on it.

  The spell book I needed appeared next to me, already flipped to the right page. This was one of the books Gavon had given me, and although he hadn't stuck around long enough to teach me how to use the spell, I'd figured it out eventually.

  Health Charm

  This charm can be applied to an object containing bodily material. When magic is added, the object will reflect the health of said person.

  If the object glows,

 

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