Roman’s face dropped.
I twirled around and pointed to the locked door. “I found it. The door! But the stupid key won’t fit.” I held the key up. “Useless.”
Roman walked to the door, raising his hand toward it. The golden moon-shape in his palm blazed, a mischievous grin forming on his lips. “Let me take care of that.”
His golden palm turned orange, and then shifted to a crimson red. The lock began to shake, rattling against the steel.
“Sshhh,” I warned, glancing over my shoulder toward the staircase.
When I looked back toward Roman, the dead bolt was hanging open. “You did it!” I said, completely in awe of him. I draped my arms around the back of his neck. He ran his fingers across my hands and bent his head down, kissing them. Shivers ran through me. I wanted to jump into his arms right there—feel his lips on mine instead of just on my hands.
“The door?” Roman gently tugged my hand, bringing me beside him.
“Right.” Whipping the lock off the door, I pried it open. A blast of cold air rushed out, cooling my skin.
I reached up, pulling at the string hanging down from a bare bulb. The inky black room became fully illuminated. Sacks of potatoes and canned food lined shelves on either side.
“C’mon, you gotta be here,” I moaned, sifting through the goods. Roman dropped to the ground, looking underneath the shelves, and sliding his hands across the sandy floor.
I searched the entire closet, finding nothing. I released an exasperated groan. “It must be here, right?” I asked, my voice catching.
“Wait,” said Roman, sounding urgent. I watched him pull out a brown stacked folder. Removing the elastic that covered it, he yanked out the papers and began sifting through them. He paused, read a little, and then moved to the next, his face growing more and more ashen.
“Roman, we’re looking for a dagger, not papers,” I said, frustrated.
He looked up at me, his eyes bulging.
“What is it?” I asked, slipping to the ground beside him, the cold seeping through my jeans.
I reached for the paper he stared at, but he shook his head, so I pried the one at the back of the pile from his fingers. It was a birth certificate.
The name written on it was Giulia Rosa with my birthdate. The parents listed were Angelina and Juliano Rosa. Birthplace: Venice, Italy. I gasped. I realized Jewel was short for Giulia, obviously named after my father, Juliano. I pressed the paper against my chest, releasing a deep gratifying sigh. If there was ever any doubt of who I belonged to, there wasn’t anymore.
Roman sat quiet, face pale, as his eyes scanned across the page in his hand. “What’s wrong?” I asked leaning over him.
“They have the blueprints of every coven’s home base, and of every witch’s endowment. How could they know that?” he pondered out loud. “This is the page about their coven.” He pointed to my mom’s name. It read, Karina Ivanova: Telekinesis.
I gasped. I remembered during our last move that someone had been chasing us. Right before I had passed out, she’d put her fingers to her temples and the car had lurched all of a sudden. I wondered if her power was the reason we’d been able to avoid being caught all these years.
I looked for Grandma’s name. Raine Primakova: Calmative control. Funny, I never even knew Grandma’s or Mom’s last name. I just assumed Mom’s was Rose, like mine.
I pondered over Grandma’s endowment. “Calmative control. Hey, I think that’s a fancy way of saying like calming or something. I knew it! She has a very soothing way about her that can even make you fall asleep.”
“Forget that,” said Roman. “They’ve got bigger plans. Look at this.” He flipped the papers and showed me the elaborate blueprints and writing.
None of it made any sense. It was just a bunch of unusual words on paper that reminded me of Hermione Granger reciting some spell.
Roman tapped the paper with his finger. “They’ve not only kidnapped you for your power and what it will bring to them, Jewel.” He closed his eyes and shook his head, and then looked back at me, his eyes serious. “They’re trying to harness your power somehow. It doesn’t make sense. It’s like they want to cast some kind of spell to control you.”
“What the hell—”
“Let’s just go,” Roman shoved the papers back into the folder. He snapped the elastic in place, and then pushed the folder under the back of his jeans, covering it with his t-shirt. “I’ve seen lots of witch’s spells, but this crap is unbelievable.”
His words sunk in, making me feel sick. “You mean they want me to kill other witches?”
He took my hand, leading me out of the room, and relocked the door. “Any who stand in their way.”
“Stand in their way of what?” I asked, breathlessly.
“It’s like a hierarchy…one that they obviously want to be at the top of. This is just what the Augusti wants to avoid.”
My cheeks burned and I looked to the floor as we walked away. I felt like a pawn in the middle of a chess game. The Augusti Forza wanted me dead, my kidnappers needed me so they could gain domination, and Henri and Dominique’s coven hunted me.
I stole a glance toward Roman as we headed up the stairs. The smile he gave didn’t quite reach his eyes. Another complication. Was he having second thoughts about falling in love with the girl at the center of so much drama? I wouldn’t blame him if he did, but I needed him more than ever, and I hoped he wouldn’t give up on me.
Another thought suddenly occurred to me that was even more disturbing. What if the Augusti was right? What if I were destined to turn into some crazy abomination like Paolo had said? I tried to shake off the feeling of dread. I could never become what Roman said about the other Spectrals. Could I?
Chapter Eighteen
Pacing back and forth in front of my open window, Willow weaved in and around my legs seeming almost as anxious as I was. Roman had promised to return at nine to explore the Ancient Witchcraft book together, but it was already ten-thirty and he was a no-show. What if something had happened to him? A sinking feeling crept through me, and I also worried that everything I feared was coming true.
I couldn’t wait anymore. I didn’t have much time. Roman had promised the Augusti Forza he’d turn me in within the week, and I had to find that dagger now. All my life I’d followed along with what everybody else said was best for me. It was getting old—and getting me nowhere. My eyes darted to my backpack slung over my desk chair. I reached for it, lifted the flap, and jerked the book out, placing it on the floor beside my bed.
I ran my fingers across the tattered edge, looking at the snake coiled around the dagger emblem. It looked harmless enough.
Flipping through the pages, I came to a chapter entitled: Spells and Sorcery.
The first page looked like a recipe. The heading read: Courage in a bottle. Below was the recipe: 1 tsp. sage, 9 drops lavender, 2 drops jasmine oil, 1 strand of your hair, 1 cup apple cider, a pinch of catnip, and a dash of cayenne pepper. Blend together and drink in one continuous motion.
Below it were words to be recited directly after. They looked like gibberish. It must have been a joke. Catnip? Hair? Anybody who’d drink that crap would already have to be courageous. No spell required. I rolled my eyes.
The next page read even stranger. This time the spell proclaimed to grant the power of persuasion. Seriously? “Now that would be sick to have the endowment of persuasion,” I said aloud.
Underneath the title, it read:
If you do not believe in the occult and magic, then I recommend you stay away from it. Word to the wise: magic is not a game or something to just dabble in or play with.
Oh yeah, I believe in magic. I rubbed my hands up and down my arms. Dominique’s muffled scream echoed in my ears and I remembered Massimo and the fog he created that swallowed the car whole.
Knowing there was no turning back at that point, I read the inscription out loud. “Hear my words, you cannot resist. They surge your heart through your skin as mi
st. Heed my bidding, follow my goal, its every whisper murmurs into your soul.”
I slammed the cover shut. “Seriously, dude,” I whispered, staring at the snake poignantly. “Catnip and misty words aren’t gonna cut it. Definitely won’t help get me to my own Spectral quickening.”
A gust of wind blew fiercely in through the window blowing my hair back from my face. The snake opened its eyes; its forked tongue slithered toward me with a hiss.
I jumped, startled, but then gritted my teeth and lifted my pointer finger. “Yeah, look familiar? You bit me, remember? I need to find the dagger. You know, looks a lot like you, but life size?” I couldn’t believe I was talking to the book, but then again, it wasn’t any normal book.
Another gush of wind surged across my room. Growling, I jumped up to close the window, but before I did, the book flipped open, its pages parting near the middle.
I reached down to pick it up. As my fingers brushed against the page, the words moved around, shifting, and then lifted about an inch into the air. I gasped, but dropped to my knees, and pressed my hands on the edges of the pages to keep the book open.
The floating letters took on shapes. A drawing. My mouth fell open. It was a stone house, large and looming. More letters sucked together leaving the pages empty and only the drawing floating toward me into the air. A path stretched out in front of the house, and a wrought-iron gate materialized.
“Taylor’s house!” I blurted out, and then clasped my hand over my mouth. Could that be where the dagger is? How is that even possible? The moment I said the words, the drawing came together like wet ink in mid-air, and then dropped to the page as before.
“What about Taylor’s house?”
I looked up to the window and saw Roman perched on the ladder, staring at me quizzically.
“Did you see that?” I widened my eyes.
“See what?” Roman climbed in and I walked toward him.
“The book…it…and…” I looked back and the book sat unmoving like any normal book.
“And what?”
I smiled at Roman, brushing it aside and hoping to distract him. “And you’re late,” I said, giving him a light punch in the arm.
“And you’re hot.” He chuckled as he drew me into his arms, nuzzling his head into the hollow between my shoulder and neck.
He came back. My heart skipped a beat and tingles radiated over my skin as he gently kissed up my neck, pausing to nibble on my earlobe.
I jumped into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist. He held me up with one arm, and with the other, he traced patterns on the bare skin of my leg, sending shivers through me.
Bending my head, I placed my lips on his, my heart started racing. My hair tumbled in a curtain around our faces. His familiar scent was intoxicating. It was amazing how all my worries seemed to melt away when he kissed me.
His tongue met mine and passion rushed through me as his lips crushed over mine. Hot, searing, heart-racing kisses. He walked with me in his arms toward my bed, my legs still twisted tightly around his waist gripping him, our mouths never separating. He tasted like cinnamon and it filled me with an insatiable hunger.
A soft moan passed my lips as he laid me back on the bed. His deep soulful eyes met mine as he flashed a smile, obviously liking my response.
“You make me crazy, you know that?” he whispered against my mouth, before sliding his tongue across my bottom lip softly and then slipping it inside my mouth again. I weaved my fingers into his hair, pulling him toward me until there was no air between us.
After a couple minutes of kissing, he rolled over and grinned at me mischievously, igniting the dimple in his right cheek. Kissing Roman was surreal and filled me with so much emotion it was almost painful. There was something hauntingly fascinating about him—something in the depth of his melted chocolate eyes—that said I still had so much to learn. Layers of discoveries that I completely enjoyed stripping away, and I never wanted to stop until I removed every last one.
“So, you gonna tell me?” he asked, breaking me out of my trance. “What were you saying about Taylor’s house?” He ran both hands back through his hair.
Yeah that.
I gave my head a little shake and kissed his dimple as I slid past him and sat at the edge of the bed, back to reality. “The dagger. I think it’s at her house.”
He widened his eyes and sat up beside me. “Really? Why do you think that?”
“It’s a long story,” I jerked my thumb toward the Ancient Witchcraft book. “But I think there’s a lot more to that dinosaur than I first thought.”
Roman stared down at the book a moment, and then back at me. “I’ll take your word for it. Let’s go.”
“Now?” I tilted my head. “Do you think we can just break into Taylor’s house?”
“We don’t need to break in, remember?” he raised his hand.
I reached up, closing my hand over his. “I know, I know, but technically it’s still breaking in.” Frustrated, I shifted my gaze past him. I knew he was right. I never imagined becoming a burglar, but there was a strong possibility something that belonged to me was in that house. I was only taking back what was mine. I gave a slow nod. “Fine.”
His eyes brightened. “You better pack a small bag, too.”
I took a deep breath. If we found the dagger we’d leave town. I knew that and I accepted it. I was anxious to find my real parents and hopefully start a new life where I belonged.
Still…my eyes wandered towards my doorway. “Give me a minute?”
Roman nodded, and then reached over giving me a peck on the lips.
I scooped up Willow and crept across the hallway toward the front of the house and snuck into Jayden’s room. He was tucked in bed, cuddled up to the build-a-bear stuffed monkey I’d bought him for his fourth birthday.
Setting Willow on the bed next to him, I kissed the top of her head and whispered, “Take care of him for me, ‘kay?” Willow meowed. I liked to think she understood. I knew Karina and Viktor were Jayden’s real parents, but I wished I could still take him with me. They didn’t deserve him. But I had to sort out my own life first. “I promise I’ll come back for you, Buddy,” I whispered.
I lay down and pressed the monkey’s hand. My recorded voice came ringing out. Happy fourth birthday, Jayden! I love you!
Jayden opened his eyes and smiled. “I love you, too,” he said sleepily. He tucked the monkey under his chin, closing his eyes again.
If I made it through my quickening alive, I promised myself I’d find a way to get back to Jayden. But the reality was that may not be possible no matter how hard I tried. I, of all, people knew how good my parents were at hiding.
A lump grew in my throat making it almost impossible to swallow. I stood over his bed watching him breathe for a moment before bending down and kissing his forehead.
I could’ve sworn I heard something shatter into a million pieces. I think it was my heart.
Chapter Nineteen
After stuffing some clothes into my backpack along with the Ancient Witchcraft book, Roman and I headed down the ladder. High above, the bloated white moon gleamed down on us, shining across the wet grass.
We crept through the shadows, skirting in and out of bushes and around the orange tree. I brushed my fingers against the rough edges of the bark as we passed, reliving the day we arrived and I had stared out into the backyard. I was right when I thought I wouldn’t be around to see the oranges grow.
That day seemed like a lifetime ago. I was no longer the naïve girl in a family full of secrets. As nervous as it felt being aware of what my future could hold; knowing I was dealing with it on my own terms made adrenaline and pride course through my veins. I wasn’t sure if I’d live to see my seventeenth birthday, but I wouldn’t give up without a fight.
I slid my hand into Roman’s as we crept down the back street to his car. He gave it a squeeze before releasing it and opening the passenger door. He pressed the door gently closed, and snuck around to the dr
iver side.
As Roman drove away, he gave me a sideways glance, his face serious. “Listen, Jewel,” he said, his voice low and urgent, “I’m really sorry about all of this—everything. You don’t deserve it. I wish my coven could know the real you. I know you wouldn’t hurt anybody.”
“It’s okay, Roman, honestly.” I reached over, running my fingers along his forearm. “I’m glad you believe that at least.”
I twirled a strand of hair around my finger as I stared out the window into the night. I hoped he was right about me not being able to hurt anybody—anybody undeserving that is.
Taylor’s house loomed in the darkness, lit up like the White House at night. Past the opened gates, several cars filled the driveway.
“Great. There’s a bunch of people here,” I moaned as Roman pulled to the side of the road and turned off the engine.
Roman strummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “We either sit it out ‘til they leave, or take our chances now and try to sneak in.”
“Hold on,” I said, tugging my cell phone from my pocket. “Let me text Taylor.” I flipped it open. “Snap! I turned off my phone when I was searching for the dagger.” The phone had powered up, followed by a series of notifying beeps. “Taylor’s about to send out a search party. Check this out.”
There were three texts. The first one said: Hey True! Party at my house 2morrow night. Can u make it?
The second one: Where r u?? Call me back!
And the third one with a time stamp of an hour before: R u ok?? Seriously sick hotties here n Mom’s out of town. ;) Where r u girl?
Roman’s face flushed when I read the last text. Is he jealous?
I smiled. “Up for a party?” I asked with a smirk. “At least it gets us in.”
Roman groaned. “That’s true I guess. But we gotta stay focused.”
I gasped dramatically, placing my hand over my mouth. “What, you don’t want to dance with me?”
Roman unlatched my seatbelt and tugged me across the seat. He nibbled my cheek and then placed his lips on mine in soft, playful kisses. Nudging his nose against mine, he added, “All the time—after I get you safely through your seventeenth.”
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