“And where do you fit in?”
“What do you mean?”
She holds out her hands as if it should be obvious. “Which one do you like?”
I sigh. If only it were that easy. How would I sound to her if I told her the truth, that I have feelings for both of them? So far as she knows, I was with Fox for the past three years. What would she think if I told her how much I care for Owen? How could she understand? “I don’t think it’s fair for me to focus on guys right now—not with everything else that’s going on. I have to keep the town safe. I need to get rid of Seth so Jodi can come home. And if I do choose one of them, where does that leave the other? I’m connected to both of them right now.” I shake my head. “There are more important things to worry about right now, anyway. It’ll all be easier once Seth is gone, once the circle’s unbound. I’ll figure out the guy situation then.”
Mom’s gaze softens and she reaches out to rub my leg. “Unfortunately, that might not be an option. Honey, relationships are always complex.” Her eyes stray toward the stairs momentarily. “I know I can’t give you any advice about keeping the town safe or getting rid of Seth, but I can give you some advice on this. If you care for Fox or Owen—or both of them—it’s only fair to come clean. Don’t worry about disappointing someone or hurting their feelings. It’ll be far worse if you ignore it. If you put off telling the truth about your feelings for too long, you run the risk of losing both of them.”
She squeezes my leg before standing. “I know you’ve had a rough day, so I’ll leave you alone. I’ll bring up some dinner later, if you’re hungry.”
I nod vaguely as she starts for the stairs. Is she right? Is it best to deal with the Owen and Fox situation now? I shift and lie back on my pillow. Even if she is, that doesn’t help me. I’m not entirely sure who I want to be with. As much as I agree with Owen, that we’re meant to be and that his remembering a life he never lived is evidence of that, the thought of where that leaves Fox makes my stomach clench. Much of the time I was with Fox, I was looking for a way out of the relationship. Still, even when I decided to break up with him, I held off, seeing too much potential in the two of us together. Shouldn’t that count for something?
The fact is, as much as I’d like to follow Mom’s advice, I’m not sure what decision to make.
Chapter Fifteen
I’m startled from a dreamless sleep by the buzz of the alarm on my phone. The room is still semi-dark as I grope for my bedside table and a glance at the device’s illuminated screen confirms it’s my usual morning wakeup time.
“I don’t remember setting this,” I mutter as I tap the screen to stop the noise.
“That’s because I did.”
“Dad!” I clutch my chest as I turn toward the sound of his voice. He’s sitting in the chair by my desk, a steaming mug cupped in his hands. “What are you doing here?”
“I have something for you.” He stands and crosses to my mattress, settling down on the edge.
“And you just had to give it to me at six thirty in the morning?” I grumble, yanking on my blanket and leaning back onto my pillow. “Give it to me later.”
Dad tugs the blanket down gently—so gently, in fact, I wonder if I’ve imagined it. “I want you to have it before you go to school.”
I raise an eyebrow. He can’t be serious. He knows what I went through yesterday. After Mom left, he came upstairs to ask me about the ordeal. He filled me in on the trauma Bria found as she worked on me. And while, yes, my body feels much improved—just tender in spots when I move—that doesn’t mean I’m up for a day of pretending to care about editing papers for clear transition words or substituting in values for x. Still, one look at his face is enough to tell me he is serious. “Dad,” I whine.
Ignoring me, he holds out a bracelet woven of hemp. “We were able to pull some hairs from your captors off Fox and Owen last night, and Anya helped Fox create a protective charm.” His eyes dip to my wrist and I hold it out obediently. “According to Anya, this should be enough to keep you safe from another attack from either of them. It’s lucky we found the hair, really. There’s a weaker version of the charm she could’ve—and would’ve—done just off the essence they left behind, but the DNA gives the spell extra potency.”
He finishes tying the bracelet in place and I rub it against my skin. “So, you were able to make these for all of us?”
He shakes his head. “There was just enough for this one.”
Guilt surges in my core and I pull at the knot with my fingers. “Then I can’t take it.” There are eleven of us in the circle. Any one could be a target. What makes me more important than the rest of them?
Dad covers my hand with his, staying my progress. “You can. And you will. Whether you want to believe it or not, you’re the most important member of your circle. And I’m not just saying that because you’re my daughter. Seth sought you out when he first came back. I think he saw a connection between the two of you—both from the Barnette and Whitaker lines, both with the qualities of a psychic and a witch. And you’re the one who kept him from regaining his full power, which makes you the enemy so far as the Devoted are concerned.”
Everything he says makes sense, still I can’t help feeling selfish. For the moment, I can’t come up with a compelling reason to give the charm to another person in particular, so I press my lips together and nod. “You know, the guy said they were under orders not to mess with us,” I offer, but it sounds weak even to me.
“And we’ve already seen how well his companion is at following directions.” Dad stands and starts for the stairs. Before he descends, he turns, sighing. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe they won’t try anything again. But in the event they do, it’s best if you stick close to your friends. That charm will offer them a degree of safety so long as you’re by them. The strength of their hair plus the binding spell should extend some protection to them.”
As he starts down the stairs I can’t help admiring that his parental sneakiness is still intact after five years of disuse: Not once did he try to convince me to go to school, but by bringing up my friends he’s managed to do just that. With a groan, I push off my covers and climb out of bed.
***
Although the entire circle already knows about what happened to me last night, I still face an onslaught of questions and concerned looks at school.
First hour, Lexie grills me. “What kind of magic was she using?”
Abandoning the pretense of working on the English assignment, I sigh. “I don’t know—bad magic?”
She rolls her eyes. “You know what I mean,” she insists, even though I don’t. “What kind of power did she have? The spells she was using—were they ones we could do? Could you figure out how she was doing them?”
West’s eyebrows contract. “Wait—are you saying you want to be able to torture someone?”
Lexie casts him a withering look. “Of course I don’t want to torture someone. But you never know when a spell’s going to come in handy, and I’m trying to learn everything I can. I figure we all should be with everything that’s going on.”
As if to stress her point, the classroom door opens and Dana Crawford enters the room. She hands a tardy pass to the teacher before weaving through the aisles toward her seat in the back. Her gaze strays in our direction as she passes. I can’t help the uneasy feeling that settles in my stomach. I know it’s not Dana’s fault she’s been called to the council so I shouldn’t hold it against her, but she makes me nervous. I can’t shake the idea that she watches us in school, listening to our conversations so she can report back anything she learns to the rest of the council.
Lexie must share my apprehension because she drops the subject.
Bria checks in with me during hall passing time to make sure I’m still feeling all right. It’s not until I allow her an unhindered scan of my body with her abilities that she takes my word and allows me to go to my next class.
Throughout the day, both Owen and Fox give me a wide b
erth, like neither know exactly what to say. I can’t blame them and, honestly, I’m a little more than relieved. I don’t know what to say to them, either. Guilt surges each time I catch a glimpse of one of them. As much as Fox tries to hide and bury his sense of betrayal, it stabs me at intervals all day, especially when we’re near. Owen is better at walling off his emotions, but I can tell by his posture and the way he avoids eye contact that he’s still hurt from our conversation last night.
I’m grateful when the school day is over. On Dad’s orders, Felix takes me to Hannah’s Herbs. As he drives, he leads the conversation, explaining all the ways his mom is not adjusting well to seeing his father around town. His words are so distracting, it takes me a while to notice he’s scanning me, the same way Bria did earlier.
“What are you doing?” I ask, doing my best to block his intrusion.
His eyes flick from the road and he offers an apologetic half smile. “Sorry. Bria made me promise I’d check on you.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “She’s checked on me a billion times today,” I grumble, staring out the window. We’re on Main Street now, almost to the shop.
“She’s worried about you.”
“Clearly.”
He presses his lips together. “She didn’t want me to tell you this, but I’m going to anyway: Whatever was done to you last night, it wasn’t physical. Bria’s never dealt with anything like it before and she wanted to make sure there aren’t any lingering effects from the spell.”
Some of the tension in my shoulders drains. “She could’ve just told me that.”
Felix pulls into a parking space in front of the shop. “She didn’t want to worry you.”
“Tell her I’m fine.”
He raises a dubious eyebrow.
“Really,” I insist. “If I have any relapse or anything, she’ll be the first person I tell.”
“Here’s hoping there’s nothing to report.”
Felix bids me farewell and I head into the store. Dad assigns me inventory and the task of helping any customers who come in. He has some work to do in back—ordering and payroll and some other administrative duties. He learned how to do these things back when he was my age, when it was a foregone conclusion he, not Jodi, would remain in Clearwater and take over the shop, but it appears the refamiliarization curve is steep. I would offer to help, except I don’t know how to do any of those tasks any better than he does. The me from this reality would, of course, and I don’t want to fabricate a reason why I don’t.
I busy myself with the inventory Dad assigned, stopping to help the handful of customers who come in. Mrs. Jenkins, a regular customer who has the habit of retelling the same anecdote three or four times in a single visit, asks about Jodi as she’s checking out. “I was in the other day and she wasn’t here either. Is she sick?”
I bite my lower lip, not sure what to say. I don’t have a lie prepared, which is silly, really. Of course people would notice Jodi’s not here. “She’s... on vacation.” It’s the first excuse that comes to mind. “Well-deserved, of course. You know Jodi—she never takes a day off. So, my mom and I finally convinced her to get away.”
The bells above the front door tinkle as someone else enters.
“How lovely,” Mrs. Jenkins says. “Where did she go?”
Damn it. Why does this lady have to be so nosy? “She went to, ah...”
“A cruise, isn’t it?” The voice that comes to my aid is familiar, but it takes a glance in his direction to place why.
Elliot.
I freeze, my blood running cold. What could he be doing here? Isn’t he the one who said Seth gave orders not to bother me or the other members of the circle? Has Seth given new orders? Instinctively, my left hand covers the bracelet on my right wrist. This charm is supposed to protect me, but how?
I should run to the back room, or at least call for my dad, but I don’t want to alarm Mrs. Jenkins. What if Elliot decides to take her hostage? I don’t think I could forgive myself if he hurt this kind old lady because of me.
“Well, I hope she enjoys her time away,” Mrs. Jenkins says, startling me. She’s oblivious to the thick tension in the air. “I’ll see you again soon.” She offers a smile and a little wave as she heads for the front door.
As soon as Mrs. Jenkins passes him, Elliot holds up a hand. “I’m just here to talk. There’s no need to call for your dad.”
The bells tinkle as Mrs. Jenkins exits. My eyes dart back to the store room. “How did you—”
“I’m a psychic.” He offers a half smile. “I’m not surprised you didn’t notice. Sasha’s spell had your abilities all messed up.”
Now that he’s told me, I’m shocked I didn’t sense his energy as soon as he walked in. The effects of Sasha’s spell have mostly subsided and I can detect a distinct brightness in Elliot’s life force. So, he’s a psychic. That makes him less of a threat than if he were a witch. At least he can’t cast a spell on me. Besides, even if he tried, I’m supposed to be protected. “What do you want to talk about?”
He rubs the back of his neck as he takes a couple more steps toward me. I fight the urge to back away. “I wanted to apologize for Sasha. She’s a little… zealous. Over-eager to prove herself to Seth. Even if it means disobeying him, apparently. I came here to tell you that Seth doesn’t want to hurt you—or anyone else in your circle, for that matter.”
I can’t contain a snort. “Less than a week ago, he was ready to kill the witches to get access to the magic in the crystal. He probably would’ve killed me, too. So you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you.”
“You’re right. When your witch friends were anchored to his crystal, he would have killed them to have it to himself.”
I’m taken aback. I expected him to disagree with me, to explain away Seth’s murderous intents.
“But you have to see things from his point of view,” Elliot continues. “It was his magic. Those witches had no right to it. Even you wanted them separated from it.”
“Because I sensed darkness in it.” The energy in the crystal wasn’t pure. After residing with Seth for so many generations, it had been tainted by his essence, and that contamination infected the witches the more they tapped into the power.
Elliot shakes his head. “It was power you sensed, not darkness. You’ve just never experienced true power, that’s all. If you had, you’d understand why Seth wanted to take it back at all costs.”
Is this honestly what he believes? I know the difference between power and darkness. When I interacted with the energy in the crystal, it overwhelmed me with the desire to control, to dominate. It was completely different from when I had the full abilities of the witches and psychics at my disposal when the binding spell took effect. When that happened, my mind was clear—I just knew I possessed everything I needed to do what had to be done. That is power. It didn’t seek to bend my will to its. Besides, how could Elliot know what I sensed, anyway? “He can’t have it now. I discharged all the energy back into nature. So what does he want?”
“For you to join him—you and your entire circle. Your abilities are the strongest of any generation since his own. That’s why he’s returned.”
“No, it’s not.” Seth returned because Crystal Jamison was obsessed with finding the crystal that her aunt used in her youth, and because I took a chance and helped her, hoping to save Jodi from a curse that most certainly would have killed her. He returned because I inadvertently released him from the stone when trying to get Crystal and me back to our own time. But I don’t say any of this to Elliot. How much of this has Seth shared? It occurs to me for the first time that Seth might know Crystal and I altered the timeline. There was a piece of his soul in the shard of quartz Crystal wore as a pendant, which is why I saw flashes of his eyes when I touched it. When she and I rescued the stone from the house fire, is it possible Seth’s consciousness was aware of the change? If he does know, will he expose our secret? And what will happen if he does?
“Seth had to wait
until someone with the power to release him came along. Others have tried, you know. Only you were able to do it. And he’s thankful.” Elliot darts forward. Only the counter separates us now. “He wants to reward you—to reward you all.”
I press my palms against the counter and lean forward. “Tell him no thank you.”
A smile tugs at the corner of Elliot’s lips. “You don’t even know what he’s offering.”
“I know whatever it is, I want no part of it.”
“How can you say that?”
“Maybe because I know him—or at least enough about him. If he’s offering me something, it’s only because he wants something from me. I made the mistake of trusting him once and someone ended up dead.”
“Someone you didn’t even like.”
The quiet certainty of Elliot’s words takes my breath away. How can he know that? Is it something Seth told him, or is he using his abilities on me right now?
“So what if I didn’t like him?” Even if he’s only guessing, there’s no sense in lying. “He didn’t deserve to die.”
“And no one else has to die. If you accept Seth’s offer.”
The bells above the front door chime as Anya enters the store. “Hey, Krissa. Is your dad—”
The rest of her question dies as her eyes settle on Elliot. At first, I assume she just doesn’t want to mention whatever she was going to say in front of a stranger, but she doesn’t look like someone who’s seeing a stranger. She looks like someone who’s seen a ghost.
And Elliot’s face has the same expression.
“Anya?” His voice is hoarse, barely more than a whisper. “It can’t… Anya? Is that you?”
She moves slowly, as if through water. “It’s me.”
He shakes his head. “You look the same. Just like I remember.”
Her mouth twitches. “I can only see hints of the boy you were. You’ve grown into a handsome young man, Elliot.”
My eyes go back and forth between them. They seem to know each other. But how? I want to ask, but it feels wrong to intrude on this moment.
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