Embrace

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Embrace Page 9

by Cherie Colyer


  “I don’t know,” I admitted.

  And just like that, Kaylee was back to square one. The doctors ran more tests. A specialist was called in. I was told to go home.

  Dad and Chase were tossing a ball in the front yard when I got to the house. I felt dejected. I’d failed Kaylee again. I dropped my purse on the floor next to the stairs and trudged to the kitchen, sinking into a chair and giving in to the tears I’d suppressed since her relapse. I’d been so sure she’d simply needed to talk through what was bothering her and she’d be fine.

  After a while, there weren’t any tears left. I wiped my cheeks dry with the palm of my hand as I opened the refrigerator. I saw the wine glass I’d taken out earlier in my peripheral vision. The articles I’d printed that morning were stacked in a neat pile next to it.

  Deep in my heart I knew Kaylee wasn’t crazy. Nothing inside of her had snapped as she walked from third period to fourth period. Some outside force was at play, and I planned to find out what it was. As impossible as witchcraft seemed, I had to try it.

  Chase’s voice drifted in the front door, reminding me that I wasn’t as alone as I felt. If I didn’t move quickly, I’d be trying to explain what I was doing to my dad, and there was no way he’d understand my desperation.

  Without wasting another moment, I grabbed the wine glass, papers, a knife, a lunch plate, and a container of salt from the cabinets. In the hall closet, I found a shoebox filled with candles and added a bag of white tea lights to the pile. Next, I sprinted up the stairs and into my room, dropped everything on my bed, and prepared for my spell.

  Resorting to witchcraft. God, I had to be going insane to believe that magic could be the cause of Kaylee’s illness.

  I went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face.

  No, crazy was my best friend being afraid of her shadow or thinking she was schizophrenic. It was watching her condition get worse with each day that passed and not being willing to try the unbelievable.

  I told my reflection that I was perfectly and undeniably sane.

  “Yeah, right,” I mumbled. “Sane people always believe they can cast spells.”

  The website said to find peace within yourself. The hazel eyes that stared back at me were anything but peaceful. Skepticism, confusion, fear, and anger clung to each other in the eyes I saw. Those were the only emotions I had left in me, and they were the only emotions I had to work with. I filled the wine glass halfway with water and went back to my room.

  Thankful that the tea lights came in their own casing, I placed them on the carpet in a circle around me. I sat cross-legged in the center of the candles with the rest of the items I’d taken from downstairs beside me and the instructions to the spell in my lap.

  I felt ridiculous sitting in my room like this. I took three deep breaths to calm myself.

  “The worst thing that can happen is nothing at all,” I reminded myself.

  I began by setting the plate on the carpet in front of me. The wine glass, or chalice, as the website had referred to it, went to its right. I poured a small pile of salt onto the plate and set the knife and the last candle near the salt.

  Next, I was to draw the power within me—if there was any—to the surface. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but maybe it was like meditating, concentrating all my thoughts and energy on what I wished for. So I placed my hands palms-up on my knees and closed my eyes. For Kaylee. To find out what’s going on. To know if someone had intentionally singled her out wanting to hurt her. To find that person and make them fix this.

  When I opened my eyes, the air felt thick and tasted of copper. I immediately remembered the Internet site that had said magic could be tasted and felt. In that moment, I knew I had to try my best to cast away all fear and skepticism, to will myself to believe something like this could really work. It had to.

  I leaned closer to the items in front of me, whispered, “Ignite,” and blew gently on the candle, which remained as unlit as it had been when I’d started. I began again, breathing in deeply and forcing myself to believe.

  But just in case my breath alone wouldn’t be enough to light the candles, I decided to light the first one the old-fashioned way, the mortal way. I struck a wooden match against the black strip, lighting it, and held its flame to the candle on the plate.

  “Ignite.”

  The wick caught fire and then one by one the candles around me lit without the need of the match. Their flames were soft at first, but grew in strength like the fury bottled up within me. They reached upward in bright determination. It was all the proof I finally needed to accept that magic existed. That people could be witches. That someone had cursed my best friend and they would pay.

  The flames of the candles licked the air as if it were gasoline, gaining in power and size until I was trapped in the circle I’d created. Until I was afraid I’d burn down the house.

  My fear was back. How had the Internet described it? Threefold. That was the word I’d seen. My fear was back threefold. I blew at the candle on the plate, hoping if I extinguished it the others would go out as well. Only, when the flame of that candle was doused, the others grew. Their heat had me dripping sweat and gasping for air that wasn’t there. Even with the immediate threat of being burned alive, I couldn’t get myself to move. Who would help Kaylee now? Through the confusion of my panic, I heard one word, spoken loud and strong and with authority.

  “Obliterate!”

  Isaac stood in the doorway, his arm raised, the palm of his hand facing me. Power poured from him, smothering the fire around me, and with his power came the oxygen my lungs craved. The smell of copper was gone, replaced with the sweet scent of vanilla and spearmint that was Isaac.

  My chest heaved as if I’d run a hundred miles. Isaac’s eyes penetrated me, leaving me feeling vulnerable and a little silly. He stepped into my room and swept his hand sideways. The candles that formed my circle flew to the wastebasket in the corner of my room. The plate, glass, and other items vanished, reappearing on my dresser. He closed the door behind him.

  My face was not only wet with sweat, but with tears as well. I’d just seen with my own eyes that magic was real, but I still couldn’t believe it. Isaac trembled visibly; his hands balled into fists at his sides like someone trying their best to control their temper. I felt like I had to say something. Since I was still trying to process what had happened, I settled for the only other thing I could think of.

  “My dad isn’t going to like us being in my room with the door closed.”

  “He sent me up here to try to cheer you up.”

  “Oh.”

  He spoke his next words slowly, each with emphasis. “You cannot practice magic when your emotions are running wild.”

  His comment cleared the fog in my brain, allowing the recent events to fall into place like the pieces of a puzzle.

  I’d been so stupid.

  Every blasted shock that happened when Isaac touched me. The hints that Gloucester had a history. The weight of the air around me when I was with him. He was a witch, and he knew about his powers. He would have felt mine and known what it was. The night of the bonfire came back to me. When his hand had brushed the back of my neck, he’d begun to ask, “Are you—?” only I hadn’t let him finish his sentence. My response would have told him I hadn’t known about my powers, and there was only one reason not to mention them to me. He was one of the witches the Internet had warned about. One who drew others to him. It wasn’t love I felt for Isaac, it was his powers pulling me to him. His magic casting a spell over me. I’d been such a fool.

  “You,” I accused. “How could you?” I lunged for him, pounding my fists on his chest. “Kaylee doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t have any powers. How could you do this to her?”

  Isaac grabbed my wrists. His magic wrapped around me like thick ropes tying my arms tightly to my chest and binding my legs together so that I couldn’t move.

  “Madison, calm down. Your father will hear you.”

  “I w
ill not calm down!” I screamed, figuring I’d better get the words out before he sealed my mouth shut with invisible tape. “What were you doing at the hospital today? What did you do to Kaylee?”

  “I was trying to help her.”

  “Right. That’s why she became hysterical seconds after you left her room.” I struggled to move my leg so that I could knee him in the groin. It didn’t work.

  “She was dreaming, squirming like a fish out of water while I was there. I couldn’t help her, and I couldn’t stand to see her like that any longer. I went home to read through more books, hoping to find a counter spell.”

  “You’re lying!”

  Mrs. Bishop would have told me if Kaylee had been thrashing in her sleep. She wouldn’t have let me undo the straps around her wrists. She wouldn’t have left the hospital to go home and take a shower.

  Isaac covered my mouth with his hand instead. “Listen to me. I didn’t hurt Kaylee. You have to calm down.”

  I bit his hand. He swore and yanked it away. My unseen bonds gripped me tighter.

  Isaac glanced at the door. With a wave of his hand I became weightless vapors. I tried to scream, but there wasn’t enough left of me to form the sound. A moment later, I was sitting on my bed next to Isaac, his arm around my shoulders. It all had happened too fast. Then the door to my room swung open, and my dad was there, panting.

  “I heard a scream?” he said. “Are you okay?”

  Isaac patted my shoulder. “She broke down talking about Kaylee.”

  I opened my mouth to scream LIAR, but the word came out gargled. I glared at Isaac. He kissed my forehead. I would have smacked him if I could have moved.

  “We all understand,” Isaac said. “It’s okay.”

  I pursed my lips and squinted. Bastard, I thought, hoping he could hear the unspoken word.

  My dad dragged his hand through his hair. “Why does it smell like something’s burning in here?”

  Isaac nodded toward the nightstand where a single two-wick candle burned. The box of matches I’d used earlier was next to it.

  “Yeah, well, leave the door open. Okay?” And my dad left. If I wasn’t so angry, I might have been scared to be alone with Isaac.

  Isaac waited a moment before closing the door halfway with a wave of his hand. He picked up the stack of papers I had printed from my bed. He remained calm—arrogant, in my opinion.

  “I see you’ve embraced your powers,” he said.

  I would have replied, Bite me, if he’d released my voice. I made another fruitless attempt to break free of my bindings.

  He scanned a page as he talked. “You’re right that Kaylee’s been cursed. I could feel its power when I visited the hospital. What I don’t understand is how the curse still has the hold on her that it does.”

  The answer to that question was simple. He was good. He knew how to cast a curse. If I ever regained the use of my hands I was going to claw his eyes out. I closed mine, trying to find my center and the power I had called upon earlier. Maybe if I concentrated hard enough I could set Isaac on fire. When I peeked, he was reading one of the articles. To my disappointment, he wasn’t engulfed in flames.

  After a minute, his velvet brown eyes looked up at me, and I hated that he still had the power to make my heart beat faster.

  “I’m not the one who cursed her.”

  I followed his gaze back to the paper and saw his finger just above a passage I’d read earlier: Natural witches are rarely evil and have the ability to recognize one another through simple touch. Though my thoughts were in chaos, I somehow knew then that Isaac was a natural witch. He didn’t feel evil. Not really. And his magic didn’t taste evil.

  Some of my anger toward him faded, and his spell slipped away. “Why should I believe you?” I could finally ask.

  “Madison, you know I’m not the bad guy.”

  I knew I didn’t want him to be the bad guy. But he had a past, one I knew little about. He had enemies, or at least one he’d gotten in a fight with before moving to Gloucester. The weird events around town, the thing with the MINI, and Kaylee’s panic attacks had all started after we’d met Isaac. He’d have to do more than tell me he hadn’t hurt my best friend for me to believe I had the wrong person.

  “If you’re so innocent, then why didn’t you tell me about these powers, about being a witch?”

  “Because you may not have wanted them, and once you know what you are, you have little choice but to embrace them.”

  “That’s stupid. How can I choose if I don’t know my options?”

  “Some people never know, and they live long, happy, normal lives.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes locked on the ceiling. “Had I known you were going to embrace your powers with anger and vengeance, I would have told you. You could have killed yourself.”

  “I didn’t embrace them with anger and vengeance.” I’d just tapped into those feelings to help kick-start the spell.

  His jaw set tight. His voice strained. “The only thing coming from you was negative emotions. Don’t deny it. Your magic tasted like old pennies. You have to promise me you won’t do any more spells until you’re shown how.”

  Seeing as I had almost roasted myself alive, it was a promise I could live with.

  “I—”

  Isaac put his finger to my lips. “From this moment forward, your promise is your word. With your powers awakened, your word is binding. Be sure to mean what you say.”

  I swallowed audibly. “You mean if I said to my dad, ‘Cross my heart and hope to die,’ and I’m lying, I might actually die.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean.”

  I studied Isaac’s face for any sign that he was joking, waiting for him to say, Of course you won’t drop dead. He never did. All I saw was sincerity, understanding, and wisdom I might never have myself. Either he was a very good actor, or he was telling the truth. The calm serenity I’d felt at the lighthouse was back, and it encircled me like a down blanket. I realized I had always been able to feel Isaac’s magic.

  I reached out and touched his hand. The shock of electricity—power—didn’t surprise me this time. The tingly sensation I’d felt whenever Isaac touched me traveled up my arm and through my body.

  “Do you feel that?” I asked.

  “I’ve been able to feel your magic since the day we met.”

  “Why is it I don’t always feel the pinch of electricity?”

  “That would be our powers colliding. After the night at the bonfire, I’ve been using my magic to hide it from you.”

  That was why he always paused before he kissed me. It made sense. I nodded. “But you couldn’t hide it completely. I could still feel your magic trickle through me.”

  He raised his free hand up and smoothed my hair. His touch was warm, minus any jolt of power. “I didn’t want to block everything. I’ve been careful to only withdraw enough of my powers to keep us from getting shocked.”

  And then I wondered again how much of what I felt when I was with Isaac was our powers playing with my head. Maybe what I deemed as affection was nothing more than magic twisting my thoughts into lust. I wanted him to be telling me the truth. That he was a good witch. That he didn’t use magic to harm the people around him. That once Kaylee was better, we’d go back to being a couple. While my heart begged me not to pursue the conversation, my mouth spilled my fears.

  “That means what I feel when I’m with you isn’t real. It’s just a trick of our magic making me, I don’t know, believe I feel one way when I don’t.”

  Isaac’s smile reached his eyes. “Oh, I’d guess our attraction to each other is some sort of magic, but nothing to do with our powers messing with our heads.”

  He’d said our. That meant I wasn’t the only who had fallen quickly for someone I’d just met.

  Isaac leaned closer to me, but I pulled away. There was one more thing I needed from him before I’d let myself become too excited.

  “Prove to me that you didn’t put Kaylee in the hospital, and
I promise I won’t use my magic until I’m shown how.”

  He inclined his head. “Deal.”

  A tinge of guilt overtook me. As I sat arguing with Isaac—possibly the only person who could help me—Kaylee remained in the hospital, held captive by a curse the doctors could do nothing about.

  “What do we do now?” I asked.

  “I prove to you that I’m telling the truth, and then we find out how Kaylee is being trapped by the curse. Once we know that, we can break it. Then we find who’s targeting her.” Isaac stood, pulling me to my feet with him. When I didn’t willingly follow, he added, “I promise what I’m about to show you will be all the proof you need.”

  It was a bold statement to make, only there didn’t seem to be any consequence if he was lying.

  “Cross your heart and hope to die?” I asked in a teasing tone, but if we really were bound to our word and he was on the up and up, then he’d repeat the words back to me.

  His expression hardened: a man on a mission or a man about to hang himself. I waited.

  “Cross my heart and hope to die.” He even drew an X over his chest.

  I figured he had a damn good card up his sleeve, and I couldn’t wait to find out what it was. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 9

  Truth

  BY THE TIME WE reached Isaac’s house, the sky had ripped open. Rain pelted the hood of the Jeep, bouncing off the metal with a hollow ting. I covered my head with my arms and ran to the front door behind him.

  Once inside, Isaac shook his head, and a spray of water flew off his hair. We wiped our shoes on the front rug and headed to the basement stairs. A light had been left on; its amber glow seeped toward the stairs. Vanilla and spice beckoned to me as it had the last time I’d been here. Isaac led the way, and as he passed the first nook in the stone wall, its candle ignited.

  I stopped to stare at it, then at the next and the next as each candle awakened at his passing. When Isaac reached the bottom of the stairs, he glanced over his shoulder and asked, “Are you coming?”

 

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