Krista started to take the spot next to me, but her phone flashed. She shook it at us, pushed back past Jaesung, and plowed through the crowd with a finger in one ear and the phone in the other. Jaesung installed himself next to me, cutting off both my view of the front door and hope of easily extracting myself from the table. My arms buzzed with the growing charge, and I felt it prickle the hairs on my neck.
Who was he? What sport or martial art did he do that taught him to move like that? Why did I feel like he'd sketched his own ideas over the gaps in my story, and that some were scarily accurate? It bothered me almost as much as my inability to get a good read on him. One minute he was sharp-eyed and shadowed, the next he was a city-slick geek with a labrador’s haphazard energy. Was I inventing half of it from paranoia?
As Jaesung passed his coat to Sanadzi, I scanned the room. The kitchen was to our left, along with a restroom sign and double doors that opened onto a beer garden. A few groups cradled steaming drinks beneath the glow of antique bulbs. Krista stood near the fence, her shoulders hunched against the chill. She didn’t look happy with her phone call.
“How do you like Minnesota weather, Helena?”
I dragged my gaze from Krista. Eugene grinned at me in a way that suggested he knew how miserably cold it was. I tried to cut through the static in my brain for something to say.
“I assume we’ll be hitching the dogs to a sled soon.”
“Now there’s an idea!” Sanadzi poked Eugene’s arm. “I want a dog sled for my wedding present.” Eugene gave her a doubtful look.
“You’d make me pull it before you hitched up a dog.”
“What’s your point?”
Eugene shielded his face from Sanadzi’s view and mouthed “She’s crazy!” at me behind his fingers. “So,” he said, returning to an audible level of partial-shouting. “Why’s your family moving from Miami?”
I should have been prepared for the question—had been prepared with appropriate deflections and redirections when the others had asked—but the tension still building from earlier had pushed all cleverness aside. For a second, all I could do was stare at him, my brain glitching over the thought. Why had we left Miami? Why. Why. Why.
“It’s…” I sucked at the air. “It’s complicated. Family stuff.”
He gave a sideways nod, as if to grant my right to vagueness. I twisted my fingers together beneath the table, resisting the desire to scribe the glyphs popping into my head, the ones that might help release this building charge burning away my paper-thin calm.
“You looking at going to school up here?”
Breathe, Helena.
“I don’t know. I mean, I’d like to, but I don’t really know if we’ll be sticking around.”
Eugene nodded, lifted his beer, and Sanadzi tilted her head, looking at me over the horn-rimmed glasses she’d donned to read the menu. “Speaking of school, isn’t mid-semester a weird time to move? You’re, what, a senior?”
The questions were friendly enough and, to anyone else, innocuous. But here I was, having never set foot inside a normal classroom, trying to figure out something to tell them that would stop the questions and give me a chance to calm down. No thoughts came, and I found the truth spilling from my mouth before the pause went on too long.
“I’m d-done with High School.” It came out as a stammer. “I finished when I was fifteen.”
Sanadzi tapped my arm with the back of her hand. “Oh, we got a smartypants!”
I laughed, and there was a strange warble of panic to it. “More like bored and homeschooled. I didn’t take summers off.”
New questions brewed around Eugene and Sanadzi, gathering like a storm cloud. Jaesung had been quiet during the interrogation, and I caught him looking at me over a menu. He looked down, his chin giving a little jerk, as if to shake his head in denial of spying.
The waitress came for our orders before they came up with any more questions, and by the time she had left again, Krista was pushing her way through the crowd.
She mounted the stairs, her face pinched at the brow. She held her features tense, and the smile she gave the waitress seemed ready to cave in as she tacked on her order. Sanadzi drew her chin back when Krista ordered four tequila shots.
“Everything okay?” Eugene asked.
Krista gave an exaggerated sigh and slapped her phone on the table. “That’s what I still want to know.”
When she realized everyone was looking at her, she smiled and waved a hand in front of her, as if trying to disperse the concern. “Stop—I don’t want to think about it right now. I just want to have fun, okay?”
She turned to me, her smile desperate, as though I were a fun-producing fairy godmother.
“Helena! We should play a game! One of those team-building things people do on office retreats.”
Eugene grimaced. “You want to play a cheesy college ice breaker?”
“Jae and I are in college, kay thanks.”
Jaesung balanced an arm over Krista’s shoulders, visibly siding with her against his cousin. “I like cheesy college ice breakers.”
“As long as it’s not spin the bottle.”
In mock offense, Jaesung clapped a hand to his chest. “You don’t want to kiss me, cuz?”
“I don’t give a shit about kissing you. I don’t want your dirty little mouth anywhere near Sanadzi. Or yours!” He pointed at Krista. “And Hel, I don’t know what way you swing, but my fiancée is not on the college ice-breaker menu.”
Sanadzi gave him an amused eyebrow quirk as the waitress returned with their drinks. Four shot glasses of tequila and a plate of lime wedges appeared in front of Krista, who opened a sugar packet with a grin.
Eugene frowned. “Those had better be unrelated to the college ice breaker.”
“Bitch, back off my shots.” Krista picked up a glass in one hand and a sugared lime wedge in the other, making short work of both. She dropped the lime peel into the empty shot glass and shuddered. “Let’s play never-have-I-ever.”
She raised a hand in front of her in a “stop” motion. Sanadzi laughed and copied her, followed by Jaesung. Eugene rolled his eyes, but held up a hand.
I copied, hoping to catch onto the rules as we went but there must have been a neon sign on my forehead flashing “WTF?”
Sanadzi leaned over. “You say something you’ve never done, and anyone who’s done it has to put down a finger. Last one with fingers up wins.”
“I’ll start,” Krista said. “Never have I ever been admitted to a hospital.”
Jaesung and Sanadzi each lowered a finger. It took a moment to remember whether I should put down a finger or keep one up. Despite some serious injuries, I’d never been to a hospital. It was why my left pinkie finger didn’t move well, why there was a lump on my collarbone where a crowbar had snapped it two years ago.
“Okay,” Jaesung rocked back on his feet, four fingers in the air. “Never have I ever…been to Disney World.” His gaze flicked to me, a fledgling smirk on his lips.
I kept five resolute fingers up.
“Oh, come on!” He said. “But you lived in Florida!”
“Disney’s, like…” My brain vomited up a map. “200 miles from Miami.”
“That’s closer than here.”
“We just never went. It wasn’t a thing for me.”
“But it’s Disney!”
I shrugged. I only ever saw snatches of cartoons in dark, tinfoil-scattered living rooms. Maybe it was the stained carpets I sat on, but the stories never seemed like fun. Cat and mouse, coyote and roadrunner, hunter and rabbit—they were always about characters chasing one another, trying to kill one another. I couldn’t laugh at it, just sat, waiting for the bird, the mouse, the rabbit to make its fatal mistake. Even as a child, I’d been too fatalistic to think it would last.
Jaesung was still shaking his head at me when Sanadzi nudged my elbow. “Your turn.”
“Never have I ever seen snow.”
A collective sigh went up around the ta
ble. They’d expected it. Sanadzi went next, and I put down a finger. Then it was Eugene’s turn, then back to Krista. She was down to three fingers and one tequila shot, and wore a mellowed expression.
“Never have I ever…um…fuck….”
“You’ve done that,” Jaesung said. She elbowed him.
“Been in a fist-fight!” she said, triumphant. She downed her last shot, wobbling.
Everyone but Sanadzi put down a finger. Eugene grinned across the table at me. “I’ve got to hear that story.”
That story. Like it was one time. I gave another nervous laugh. “That’s a little beyond college ice-breaker-level,” I said.
Jaesung glanced between me and Krista, like he wasn’t sure which of us to keep under surveillance. “Never have I ever spilled an entire bottle of nail polish remover on my roommate’s three-hundred-dollar textbook.”
“That was targeted!” Krista whined. She was down to a single finger, and gave me a pleading look across the table. “Nothing about snow!”
“Get her, Hel,” Sanadzi said, sparkling with competitive glee.
But something was wrong. Krista’s eyes said she needed to play—needed to keep laughing and distracting herself from whatever she’d heard on the other end of that phone call.
“Never have I ever been out of the country.” Legally, I added in my head.
“You suck,” Jaesung said, but he didn’t look unhappy as he put down his third finger. He glanced at Krista, who grinned at me with the tip of her tongue poking between her teeth.
Sanadzi was first out, followed rather inevitably by Krista. Eugene knocked Jaesung out with something about a costume involving tights, which had everyone but me laughing in fond memory.
Then it was just us—me and this near stranger. I could have said something targeted and easy, something about kissing Sanadzi, or buying a house. Instead, I stared at his brown beard, his broad shoulders, his arm around Sanadzi, and found myself thinking of the picture of my parents. They’d smiled like that, touched easily. Seeing these two now was a cruel smudge of reminder. Those people were gone.
“Never have I ever been to a funeral.” I said it almost dreamily.
The pressure in my forehead dimmed my thoughts. Eugene hadn’t dropped his finger, but the corners of his lips lowered. He glanced at Jaesung so fast I’d have missed it if I wasn’t staring. My pulse throbbed behind my ears.
Eugene’s eyes narrowed. “Never have I ever run away from home.”
That was it—the twinge of suspicion, explained. Jaesung’s shrewd expression, the glances between him and Eugene. The worst part was the knowledge that he was right. I had run away.
My mother’s face appeared, overwhelming my vision as she stared at me like a ghost, a thin ribbon of blood trickling from the hole in her cheek. Her hair blew in the sea wind and crackled with static, static that echoed the buzz on my skin.
I’d felt like this on the boat, right before I’d lost control of my power. That turquoise flash, the shattering glass and spreading flame. It had loosened something inside me, some door I no longer knew how to close.
My body was a storm cloud, and magic raced through it like particles building a charge. My veins prickled, making pathways for that unrestrained bolt of power.
It was going to happen again.
I backed away from the table. I heard nothing, felt nothing but the rolling mass of humanity around me, no longer individuals. A hand grabbed my arm as I reached the stairs—a feminine voice speaking—but I wrenched away.
Out. The closest exit was the beer garden. I charged through the press of wool and body heat, hunting light, hunting open.
If they caught me, they would contact someone. Report the missing minor. Then the Guild would claim me and it would all be over.
I shoved my way into the beer garden, frigid air sheathing my body. My throat opened. Magic flashed on the wings of my scream, bright turquoise.
I had the split-second relief of knowing only I could see that flash, before every lightbulb overhead exploded.
Chapter Twelve
I'm not sure how I got out front. One moment I was on my hands and knees, staring at the sparkling frost of broken glass on the beer garden slate, the drain of magic sucking the light from my vision. The next, I registered the front patio of Rinkenburger's and the sour smell of bile.
Flashes illuminated wood paneling in quick, colored succession. Red-blue-red-blue. For a second I struggled with the familiarity of that pattern. Magic? Police cars.
I staggered backwards, halted by something solid behind me. Someone. I stepped forward again, trying to turn, and found gentle hands on my arms.
"It's okay, baby. We've got you."
Sanadzi, her voice gentle. Memory caught up with me, anchoring me to where I was, and what I'd done. I looked up, finding her face in the flickering police lights. Her expression was tense, despite the comforting smile that curved her lips. A piece of glass sparkled in her dense curls.
Behind her, Krista was holding onto the fence surrounding Rinkenburger's patio, vomiting into the bushes. That was the bile-smell. Other people stood in clumps, arms crossed, breath making little ghosts in front of their faces as they spoke to dark-clad officers. Eugene was one of them. When he saw me looking, he tapped the officer's arm and started toward us.
A flash of reflection at the front of the pub drew my eyes away from Eugene's approach. The door—now webbed with cracks—swung out, and Jaesung exited, coats folded over his arms.
He and Eugene converged where Sanadzi and I stood, Eugene looking serious and worried, Jaesung smiling with forced, false calm.
"So," he said, grinning around at the three of us. "Tuesday. Major success."
Sanadzi made an attempt at a laugh and extracted Krista's bright green coat from his arms. The warmth of her disappeared from my side. I hadn't even realized she'd been standing so close. I shuddered, stared at the bundle of coats, knowing I should put one on.
"Sanadzi and I should take the girls home," Jaesung said to Eugene, handing over his cousin's leather jacket. He glanced back at the officer, then to me. "Unless you want to talk to the police?"
I should have shaken my head. I tried to shake it, but nothing moved. My jaw wouldn't open, bones shuddering with either cold or utter exhaustion.
This felt like post-transformation. I hadn't been this tired after my first magical overload—I'd been able to swim, to run, to fight. Maybe I'd had more magic in me then, more energy. After two transformations and so many days of travel and stress, maybe I didn't have the energy to spare like I had back on the boat.
I didn't remember Jaesung had asked me a question until he stepped into my space. He swung my coat around me, not bothering with the sleeves as he tugged it closed, then braced both hands on my arms as if holding me up. Maybe he was.
"I don't think they should leave the scene," Eugene said. "The police might want statements."
“Uhh, one of them is catatonic and the other is barfing into the junipers,” Jaesung said. “I don't think they'll be much help.”
"Helena was out there when it happened. She probably saw something."
Jaesung's hands tightened on my arms, though whether from protectiveness or something else, I didn't know. He rubbed my biceps up and down, and I realized I was shuddering.
"Come on, Gene. She doesn't want to talk to them." His voice was lower now. I could feel it vibrating in his chest, right in front of my face. He lifted a hand to my hair, half covering my ear, as if it would keep me from hearing his next low comment. "We don't know what happened."
He wasn't talking about the explosion. He was talking about why I ran away. I ducked backward—the first movement I'd been able to make since coming to awareness. His hands offered no resistance.
Eugene sighed, but looked back at the officer, who listened to a bartender's account. "Yeah," he grunted. "Okay. Go on."
Though I was too tired to feel guilty, it was a relief to turn away from the pub's fissured windows and dead
lights. Krista made a sinusoidal track ahead, her focus returned to the cell phone on her hand. Jaesung and Sanadzi walked on either side of me and discussed the wisdom of letting Krista drunk-text.
"Last time she drunk-texted Alina, the shrink put her on phone probation," Jaesung said.
"We can't babysit their relationship," Sanadzi said back.
"Friends don't let friends text drunk?"
"I don't think that's how it goes."
I focused on Krista's bright orange hair bobbing in front of me like a single tail-light, showing me the way. The desire to sit down on the concrete, cold as it was, dragged at my every step. Twice, Sanadzi stopped to pull me along with her. The third time, she didn't let go, keeping an arm around my shoulders as she steered me along beside her.
They had to support me up the stairs. At the top, I found my head lolling into Jaesung's arm as Sanadzi unlocked the apartment. The rest of me threatened to continue the sideways tilt, and I thought the landing seemed a comfortable enough place to sleep. Jaesung shifted his arm from my shoulders to my waist, pulling me up against him to stop my floor-ward motion. My cheek met wool, and I inhaled the lingering smell of pub on his coat, threatening to sleep right there with him holding me vertical. I didn't even care that he was a stranger, or that I looked like a freak to them all now. I just wanted to sleep.
My coat had fallen to the floor, and his hand was growing warm on my back. I thought of Morgan, who was tall and solid like this, and darkness reached up for my consciousness, threatening to steal it away.
The tumbler turned over in the lock, and I heard the squeak of the door open. My eyes didn't want to open, but Jaesung's knee jostled my leg. I lifted my head enough to see a slice of tan jaw as he turned me toward the door and walked me over to the breakfast bar.
None of us had eaten, and at least half of my dizziness was probably because of post-magic hunger. Sanadzi and Jaesung worked with restaurant efficiency, and by the time Eugene joined us, there were five stacks of pancakes. I'd been working my way through a tray of bacon, practically absorbing the salt and protein through my fingertips, feeling more alert with every slice. The butter-drenched pancakes gave my blood-sugar the spike it needed to restore my senses.
Unleash (Spellhounds Book 1) Page 10