Magic and Mayhem

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Magic and Mayhem Page 12

by S. Usher Evans


  I let my magic wander away from me in search of the original book that had alerted me to the presence here. I saw a box, straw stuffing, and then before I could blink, the book was in my hands.

  I gasped and grinned. "I got one!"

  "Hey!" James said, walking over. "See? Summoning is a lot easier than hunting around in the dark. What's it about?"

  "Magic and the Steam Power," I said, reading the cover. When I opened the book to the first, page, I grinned. "This was written in 1845. This is perfect! This is—"

  "Stop where you are!"

  Fifteen

  The voice was unfamiliar, but full of authority. James and I glanced at each other, his face a mask of surprise. Then, slowly, we searched for the source.

  A police officer, Boston's finest by my guess, walked into the room with a gun in his hand. I swallowed nervously and dropped the book.

  "Officer, we—"

  Something tightened around my hands, and then around my feet, knocking me back to the floor. I gasped and called out, but something magical muffled my words. I twisted onto my side, searching for James, but found him in about the same position.

  The officer approached us and put away his gun. He picked up the book and to my complete surprise, it disappeared from his hand. "Now, I don't know what you kids thought you were doing here, but this is private property."

  I opened my mouth to word-vomit apologies and beg forgiveness, but thanks to the spell on my mouth—

  The spell on my mouth.

  This policeman was magical.

  "C'mon, I'm taking you two down to the station." He knelt in front of me. "Are you going to walk, or am I going to have to carry you?"

  Station. Station. I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out. He waved his hand in front of my mouth, and the binding released. "What do you mean station?"

  He quirked a brow. "You're trespassing."

  Suddenly all curiosity about this magical man went out the window, replaced by pure, uncut panic. I was being arrested.

  Arrested.

  As in, handcuffs, jail cell, police car, arrested.

  Words spilled from my mouth almost faster than I could speak. "I wasn't trespassing. Trespassing is illegal and I swear I don't do anything illegal. I promise, I don't—" My words ended abruptly as he replaced the binding spell on my mouth. Tears gathered in my eyes as I watched all my college dreams go up in smoke. I was being arrested for trespassing. I doubted Georgetown would look past that.

  This might top the list of dumb decisions I'd made in my life.

  "Are you going to walk?" the officer asked again.

  I nodded vigorously, hoping good behavior would lessen the severity of my punishment.

  "What about you, son?" he said to James. Based on the officer's response, James wasn't the least bit concerned. The tightness around my legs released, and I scrambled to my feet, keeping my head down and sniffing back tears. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James leisurely get to his feet, neither looking chastised nor smug about the whole situation. If anything, he looked bored.

  "Let's go, you two."

  I followed with my head down, my heart sinking to my stomach as I saw the police car parked outside. How stupid could we have been? Of course this was private property. I should've known better than to trust James. Hot tears dripped down my face, and I sniffled silently as the officer held the door open. He wore a stern expression, but there was a hint of kindness in it as he helped me sit in the backseat.

  As the car lurched forward, my sniffling turned to silent sobs. I was grateful for the binding on my voice, because I was fairly sure I would've been making a scene without it.

  James nudged me and offered a confused expression. I glared at him and faced stonily ahead.

  When we arrived at the police station, fear settled in my bones. Would I be locked in a cell? Would I be sent to juvenile detention? Was there a magical jail? Did I need to get bailed out? Could I call Nicole? How would she even get here? How would she pay for this? Yet another horrible screw up by one Alexis Carrigan. Now I'd be stuck in that apartment forever.

  I refused to look up, hoping if I kept my eyes on the back of the officer's shoes, I could disappear completely. It wasn't until he stopped abruptly that I realized I was facing a jail cell.

  My sobbing renewed.

  "Get in," he said, holding open the door. "And this is iron, so don't even think about trying anything funny. You got any more of that iron-dissolving potion, son?"

  To my left, James shook his head, although the officer checked his pockets regardless. Then he left us standing in the empty cell, and released the bindings on our hands and mouth.

  The sobs that had been silently shaking my body broke through my mouth, and I wailed loudly.

  "Oh, calm down," James said, plopping down on the metal bench. "It's just trespassing. It's not that big a deal."

  I screwed up my face and wished I could blast him all the way back to New Salem. "Don't talk to me."

  James sighed and leaned against the wall. "Hopefully this won't…" His eyes flew open. "Shit."

  Before I could ask him what was wrong, I heard voices approaching. One was the officer who'd arrested us and the other was…

  "…sure she isn't blonde?"

  "She's about seventeen, had a boy with her around the same age."

  Gavon walked around the corner with the officer, looking for all the world like a very confused upper-middle-class father who'd just gotten a strange phone call. His gaze landed on me then James, and something akin to annoyance and disappointment settled on his face.

  Turning to the policeman, Gavon offered his hand. "I appreciate the call, and your leniency. I promise it won't happen again."

  The officer half-smiled in my direction. "See that it doesn't." He unlocked the cell door and left it open. "This is a warning, ladies and gentlemen. Stay out of places you don't belong."

  I couldn't help the sigh of relief that reverberated through me, but I knew the worst was yet to come. The officer glanced at Gavon and muttered something about kids before leaving the three of us alone in the cell block. I wasn't sure if any of the other rooms were occupied, but somehow, I wished they weren't. I didn't want an audience for this.

  I snuck a look at Gavon then averted my eyes. He wore a look of consideration, as if he were running through a litany of responses and trying to come up with the best one. By the tightness around his mouth, he was on the verge of an epic diatribe.

  He cleared his throat after a moment. "Anyone care to explain how the two of you ended up in an abandoned library?"

  I found the hem of my pants incredibly interesting, but James shifted next to me.

  "It was an accident," he said.

  "Trespassing is rarely an accident, that's why it's trespassing," Gavon said, sounding sharper than I'd ever heard him before. Even when I'd drunk a shoddy potion, he'd been more worried than angry. I chanced another peek at him—he was radiating fury. But not at me, at James.

  "So this is my fault?" James said with a careless drawl. Perhaps he was more used to Gavon's anger than I was, because he seemed incredibly unconcerned about the furious magical standing in front of him.

  I braced myself for an argument between them, but Gavon said, "I want you to go home and wait for me there. I will deal with you later."

  "Whatever," James said, giving him one final rebellious look before walking out of the jail cell. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Gavon. "I need my magic back to—" He disappeared in a puff of purple smoke before he finished his sentence.

  Gavon stared at the space James had vacated and clicked his tongue. Then he closed his eyes, inhaled deeply, and turned to me.

  Despite myself, I gulped.

  "Are you okay?" he asked softly.

  "O-okay?" I squeaked, realizing that I wasn't going to get the brunt of his anger. In fact, based on the concern now replacing the fury in his eyes, I was pretty sure he would whip me up a calming draught if I asked for it.
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  "I'm fine," I muttered, returning my attention to my jeans.

  "Alexis…" He sighed and entered the cell, taking the spot next to me. "I wanted you to be a better influence on him. Not the other way around. I don't know how he convinced you to trespass, but…"

  How had James convinced me so easily? Oh, that's right. I'd been angry because I'd found out Gavon had been slipping me books instead of coming to talk to me. I supposed a girl had to get arrested in order to get a conversation with the man. Funnily enough, now that I had him in front of me, I suddenly wasn't all that interested in what he had to say.

  "So do you want your books back or what?" I said, hot anger churning in the pit of my stomach. "Or are you content to make me stumble upon them like a moron."

  He considered his response. "I thought it best to do it that way."

  "You thought it best?" I actually laughed, although there was no humor in it. "Did you also think it best to let me worry for months on end that a deranged psychopath was going to come back and murder my whole family when, surprise! You'd already resolved that little problem a damn week after and didn't think to tell me about it?"

  His eyes hardened. "You had the barrier spells. There was no need to worry—"

  "How the hell was I supposed to know they were going to work?" I said, my voice rising an octave. "Gavon, I had nobody. Gram excommunicated us, Nicole doesn't want to admit she has magic anymore—"

  "You have Marie."

  "No, I don't," I said with a shake of my head. "She's gone, Gavon. She ran away, and we haven't heard from her in almost two years. The only thing I know is that she's safe, and that's thanks to some bullshit spell I hope is telling me the right thing and her damned read receipts."

  Gavon's mouth fell open. "Marie's not with you?"

  "Some father you are." I snorted with a heavy roll of my eyes. "Guess you just show up when it's convenient—"

  "This is hardly what I would call a convenient occasion," Gavon said evenly. "You were arrested, in case you forgot. And it's a good thing you got off with a warning. Do you even know what this would do to your chances at Georgetown?"

  I couldn't believe my ears—not only was he lecturing me, but he had the audacity to care about my college admissions? As if he were somehow interested in my hopes and dreams.

  "Oh, fuck off—"

  "Excuse me?" Gavon said, his voice rising. "I am your father, and you will not speak to me—"

  I laughed, incredulous. "Father? You really want to pull that? I didn't even know who you were until I was fifteen! And then you disappeared again! For another two years!"

  "Alexis—"

  "My name is Lexie!"

  "Your mother named you Alexis, and that is what I will call you."

  I swallowed, tears brimming in my eyes. "How can you even talk to me about her? You let her die."

  He recoiled as if I'd slapped him, but I couldn't stop the words spilling out of my mouth.

  "Do you know what it was like having to relive the day my mother was killed? I remember everything. I have a great magical memory that starts and ends with my mother waiting for you while she's fighting off Cyrus. Do you know how scared she was? Do you know how she kept waiting for you? And she died."

  "Enough," he said, his voice rough.

  "No—"

  He took my shoulders firmly. "Enough, Alexis. I understand you hate me. And you have every right to—"

  "Damned straight I do."

  "But that doesn't mean you should ruin your future by making stupid decisions. And this was, by all accounts, a very stupid decision."

  I wanted to blast him away, to scream and rage until I had no energy left and, at the same time, I wanted to burst into tears and ask him why he was acting like he cared when he didn't. My conflicting emotions boiled inside me, threatening to explode into hysterics or magic, and it was all I could do just to stand there silently.

  "Go home and stay there for the rest of the weekend. You and James are restricted from sparring until you can both demonstrate a bit more restraint."

  I glared at him, wishing I had the focus to argue with him. My walls were wearing thin, and if I didn't leave the jail cell soon, I wasn't sure what I'd do. So I pushed myself to stand and marched out of the cell, not even bothering to give him a final look before transporting myself home and dissolving into tears.

  The next morning, still bleary-eyed from crying myself to sleep, I braced for the worst. I was fairly sure that Nicole was aware of what I'd done, and if getting a lecture from Gavon wasn't enough, now I had to face Nicole.

  But not just about trespassing. I would have to come clean about everything—Gavon returning, James, sparring. Hunting down magical books behind her back. Practicing magic every chance I could get. More lies, more secrets. More of the same bullshit behavior that had gotten me in trouble before. I would tell her that I thought it was for her own good, but I doubted that would get me very far with her.

  I had two options: Hide in my room for the rest of my life or face the music. Sadly, putting things off would just make them worse, so I readied myself for the hurricane waiting for me in the kitchen.

  "Morning!" Nicole said brightly. "You got in late last night."

  "Uh…" I glanced around, confused. "Yes?"

  "Out with friends?"

  "S…something like that," I stammered, taking a seat at the counter. "So…um…"

  Nicole went to the toaster and added a few pieces of bread. "What's up?"

  It was then that I realized Nicole didn't know that I'd been arrested in Boston the night before. Gavon hadn't told her, and thanks to him, she hadn't received a phone call either.

  I didn't forgive him, but damn. He'd done me a real solid.

  "I hate to ask you this," she said with a small frown. "But would you mind taking me to work tonight? My car is still making noise, and I'm a little afraid to drive it. Next place we move needs to have a bus or something."

  Nicole wanting to use magic? That was odd. "Why don't you take it back to the shop?"

  "Because I think the guy is ripping me off," she said, taking the seat across from me. "Last time I was there, he spent more time flirting with me than fixing the car."

  I brightened. "There's a guy flirting with you? Nicole!"

  "I'd be more interested if he could fix my car right," she muttered. "Six hundred dollars I'm up to. That's…well, that's a lot of money that I don't have a whole lot of right now."

  I felt like such an ass, but I said, "Do you want me to give you some? I mean, I don't pay rent or anything—"

  "No way," Nicole said firmly. "It's fine. I'll take an extra shift."

  The stone at my neck burned—Nicole was lying through her teeth—but what really grabbed my attention was it hadn't even warmed during my conversation with Gavon.

  Sixteen

  After being arrested in Boston and seeing Gavon again, returning to school seemed completely silly. But I was looking forward to the distraction. I hadn't been able to erase the memory of what I'd said to Gavon—or what he'd said back.

  "Your mother named you Alexis, and that is what I will call you."

  He'd said it so easily, like a real father would. Wasn't that what sitcom fathers said? "Go ask your mother." And honoring my mother by calling me the name she'd given me…I supposed that meant he hadn't named me after his mother.

  "How can you even talk to me about her? You let her die."

  I might never forget the look on his face. There was shock there—pure, unadulterated shock and pain. My own words echoed in my head, reminding me that although I'd finally gotten to tell the man off after two years, I didn't actually feel any better about it.

  In fact, I felt guilty. There was this horrible, overbearing need to apologize to Gavon for speaking my mind and saying what needed to be said. And he'd done more than enough to deserve what I'd dished out. But the small voice in my head—the one that still wanted to be important to him—wailed with remorse.

  James had been absent fo
r the first two class periods, but I saw him at his locker at the third. Even from a distance, I could see anger radiating off him as he yanked his books out of his bag and thrust them into the locker. I debated turning and running in the other direction, but he caught my gaze and softened just enough to invite me over.

  "So, I'll have you know that I'm without magic for a month," James said, closing his locker.

  "A month?" The longest I'd ever been grounded was two weeks by Jeanie and I'd thought I was going to lose my mind. "That's pretty severe, don't you think?"

  James snorted. "He's trying to send a message. Remind me that I'm not supposed to be getting his precious daughter in trouble."

  "Father? You really want to pull that? I didn't even know who you were until I was fifteen!"

  I winced at the memory. "That, or maybe his precious daughter pissed him off."

  "What'd you say?"

  I sighed loudly and glanced at the ceiling in shame. "That he doesn't have the right to call himself my father. Couple other choice phrases like that."

  James stopped, staring at me for a moment before slowly nodding. "Yeah, that might do it."

  He came up beside me and we walked in silence for a moment while I continued to self-flagellate for what I'd said and then self-flagellate for self-flagellating.

  "So…you aren't on good terms, then?" James asked, almost hesitantly.

  "What makes you think we were?" I gaped. "Have you not been paying attention?"

  "I mean, I know the thing with your aunt but…you really…you hate him?"

  Again, guilt pressed on my shoulders, and I shrugged it off. "My feelings for him are complicated. But it's…I mean, it's his fault they're complicated. He shows up in my life, doesn't tell me he's my father then ruins everything and disappears until…well, until the day you showed up."

  This all looked to be news to James. "Huh."

  "You really had no idea?" I said.

  "He's always leaving to come over to this side, has been for months now. I guess I figured he was coming here…"

  "Nope," I said, before glaring at the floor. That familiar tickling in the back of my mind reemerged, as if I were trying to remember a word I'd forgotten. I shook my head to try to clear the uncomfortable feeling. "And apparently, he had no idea my sister was gone either. So who knows what he's up to?"

 

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