“They can do that? That’s a real thing?”
“It’s illegal in our country, but in other places, yeah. I could be…something.” He took her cup, “Still wouldn’t be enough to interest my father. If I’m not a witch, carrying on the family name, I’m nothing.”
She touched his hand, “If I know anything, it’s that nobody should have to work this hard to interest their own father. Screw him.”
He smiled and Ember fell a little in love. “You sound like Kai.” He said.
As if he’d heard them, there was a knock on the door and Kai stuck his head in, “Hey, Cuz, can I come in?”
She nodded, feeling heat prickle along her skin. “Sure.” To Quinn she said, “I don’t think your tea is working, I feel sweaty.”
He grimaced, “Sorry, that’s how it works. It helps sweat out the fever.”
“Gross, thanks again.”
There was another terse knock at the door and then Rhys barged in, hair wet, bare chested and sweatpants riding low on his hips. Ember was pretty sure she was gaping but she couldn’t help it. Rhys’ abdominal muscles had muscles. If there was such a thing as an eighteen pack, Rhys possessed it. Ember didn’t even like him and she was grudgingly impressed.
“Isa wants to see Ember downstairs when she’s feeling better,” he said. He looked at Kai, “and she said to tell you, you’re working a double tomorrow.”
Kai said nothing, openly glaring at Rhys’ bare torso as if it had offended him. Kai swallowed hard, dragging his gaze back to Ember, heat flaring in his cheeks.
Oh, Ember thought, that explained the weird tension.
Rhys waved a hand in front of Kai’s face. “Hello?”
A strangled noise escaped her cousin. Rhys’ lip twitched. He sniffed the air, frowning. She couldn’t imagine ever getting used to this. Kai crossed his arms over his chest, fixing a scowl onto his face. He kept his eyes to the floor. “Yeah, fine. Whatever.”
Rhys slammed the door with more force than necessary.
After a few awkward minutes, Kai said, “So…how are you?”
“Considering my night? Okay, I guess. Embarrassed.”
He flopped down on the bed next to her, crossing his legs at the ankles and snaking an arm under her pillow. “Why, because you threw up some horrifying black goop and then passed out in a rather spectacular display of melodrama. Happens all the time.” He told her, waving his hand like it was just another night at Casa de Werewolf.
“Really?” she asked, doubting him.
Kai laughed, “No, not really. It was really disgusting. And awesome.”
She rolled her eyes at her cousin as he nudged her shoulder with his. She wanted to move over, feeling crowded by his presence. He didn’t seem to feel the same. After a minute she asked, “What is happening to me?”
Quinn and Kai exchanged looks before Quinn conceded, “We don’t know. Truthfully, this whole thing is weird. You aren’t human but you aren’t a witch.”
“And I’m definitely not a reaper, like you and Tristin?”
Quinn thought for a minute, “It seems unlikely but really it’s hard to say at this point. Witches and reapers both inherit their magic but there is only supposed to be one reaper per family.”
“Why?”
“The common theory is because it’s a form of soul magic. It’s a supernatural failsafe to make sure that no one family has access to that kind of power.”
“But you and Tristin are both reapers.”
She felt Kai shrug next to her, “The witches said it was a technicality because we’re twins, they say our magic may have split in utero or something. They probably would have looked into it more but then Tristin’s powers never resurfaced so people stopped worrying about it.”
“So, there can’t be more than one reaper but there can be more than one witch in a family?”
Quinn nodded, “Most supernatural creatures, including witches inherit their magic only when another witch in their line dies. So when a witch dies, their magic passes to the next who bares the mark.”
“The mark?”
“Sometime around puberty a mark appears signifying they are the next to inherit.”
Ember sat up on her forearms. “What does this mark look like?”
“It varies for different families. My families mark looks like an olive branch. Kai and Tristin’s look like the moon. If both your parents are supernatural the mark will signify whose magic you’ll inherit.”
Ember’s heartrate sped up; she pushed her hair aside for Kai, showing him the full moon shaped birthmark at the base of her hairline. “Like this?”
Kai inhaled sharply, “How long have you had this?”
“My whole life, I guess. It’s always been there.”
She looked back and forth between her cousin and his friend, distress etched across their faces. The mark was obviously freaking them out. Now it was freaking her out too. “Why? Is this bad? What does it mean? Oh God, did I accidentally murder somebody or something? Is that why I can’t remember anything?”
Kai looked horrified, “No, jeez, Ember. It’s just you shouldn’t have that mark. If you were a witch, you would bare the mark of your father’s house, not your mothers.”
“Wait, my father’s house? Are you saying my father was a witch?” Her laugh sounded harsh even to her own ears. “My dad was a drunk. He was barely a college professor.”
Kai looked away, “I can only tell you what we know about your family. Your mom was a reaper; your dad was a witch, a witch from a pureblood family. That carries a lot of weight in the witch community. It’s not that you couldn’t be a witch; you just don’t smell like one and you wouldn’t bare the mark of our mothers; plus, Quinn’s dad would have been able to sense it. Other than that, we just don’t know.”
“So maybe the witches are wrong. Maybe more than one reaper can exist in a family.”
“Or maybe the witches are lying.” Quinn said, voice bitter.
“Does your mark look like mine?” Ember asked Kai. “Is it a circle like mine?”
“Not exactly, it’s a crescent moon. Tristin and I both have the same mark.”
After a minute of Quinn staring into nothing, he looked at Ember, brown eyes serious. “Ember, do me a favor, keep your hair down until we know more about your powers. I think it’s better nobody knows about your mother’s mark for now.”
She nodded, mind trying to process the ins and outs of magic. There was just so much she didn’t know. “So what about the wolves, do they have to inherit their powers?”
Quinn shook his head. “No. People in shifter families are either born shifters or humans. Humans born to shifter families can decide to take the bite when they are eighteen or they can stay human. Occasionally, an alpha shifter will bite a human not born into a shifter family but it’s illegal here and the Grove takes that sort of thing very seriously. Vampires can transfer the virus with a bite but on rare occasions, vampires can be born.”
“Pregnant vampires? Seriously?” Ember rubbed her temples. “This is so confusing.”
“Magic is fluid. It’s not something we can explain scientifically. People aren’t born ghosts, poltergeists or furies, same with the harpies, they are turned that way due to circumstances, it is usually vengeance driven. Demons are demons because they sold their souls. Wendigo, selkie and chupachabra aren’t really even necessarily supernatural, just rarely seen hybrid creatures with bad attitudes. It would take me days to explain everything and even that wouldn’t help because the real information is being kept from us, guarded by the witches and hoarded by the Grove.”
“What is this Grove you keep talking about?”
Kai scoffed, “Depends on who you ask, the witches will tell you they are the supernatural system of government in charge of keeping the balance but that is because the Grove has let them take over on a local level with all
other supernatural people answering to them. You have to wonder who would think it was smart to put humans in charge of the super humans.”
“Wait, the Grove is human?”
“No, the Grove was human.” Quinn told her. “They’re druids; humans who sold themselves to the gods in exchange for magic.”
“So you can buy your way into magic? Why wouldn’t everybody do it?”
Quinn’s mouth twisted, “They are slaves. They spend hundreds of years in servitude before they can call themselves one of the Grove. They endured years of torture at the hands of their brothers. They are taught to speak all languages, forced to know all things. A wrong answer to a question asked by the Grove can lead to a fate much worse than death. When they have proven themselves, the Gods release them to serve as mentors and tormentors to those stupid enough to want to follow their example. They start out as humans but they end up monsters.”
Ember shivered. “They can’t be the only people with information. Isn’t there anybody who would know? There has to be more than three adults in this town. Somebody willing to talk.” Then a thought occurred to her, “This isn’t like that movie where the kids kill all the adults and pray to that creepy little demon kid in the corn field is it?”
Kai smiled, nodding in admiration, “Children of the Corn. Stephen King.” Quinn nodded in agreement and the two knuckle bumped over her without looking, “But no, we didn’t kill any adults.”
Quinn cleared his throat. Kai rolled his eyes but said, “Okay, well, not any good adults.”
“And never any humans.” Quinn supplied.
Ember felt like screaming in frustration. They talked in riddles. She needed answers. She needed to know that she wasn’t going to keep vomiting black goop and feeling like people were trying to tear her brain apart with meat hooks. She needed to know she wasn’t going to keep passing out like some paranormal overheating engine.
Quinn must have sensed her frustration, “Listen, anybody who knows anything won’t talk about it for fear of having to deal with the witches’ council or worse, the tree huggers. I’d love to say we saved your life and brought you to a magical place where everything is going to be okay but it’s not true. In many ways, this town is like an entirely different world. The only law that matters is the Grove and they have a lot of laws. More than we could explain to you in a hundred years.”
She felt sick, her chest tight. There was no guarantee they’d find out what she was. Tristin had been living here her entire life and still knew nothing about being a banshee. What were the odds they’d figure out what she was before it was too late?
“If you are feeling better, you should get downstairs and talk to Isa. She’s in the kitchen stress baking.”
Quinn’s eyes lit up, “What is she making this time?”
“Pumpkin muffins, I think.”
Ember frowned. What did one say to an alpha werewolf after they puked on their carpet?
14
EMBER
She padded barefoot down the stairs. It had to be well after midnight but everybody was still awake. After a few wrong turns, she found herself in the kitchen which was bigger than the apartment she’d shared with her father. Isa had changed into a pair of leggings and a slouchy looking t-shirt and was sliding around the kitchen in…leg warmers? It was freezing in there. She didn’t know what the temperature was like outside but the air conditioning hummed along at full blast causing condensation on the many windows. Ember shivered, freezing after her ice bath.
Isa stirred a bowl of something orange as music played softly in the background. Ember hovered in the doorway, waiting for the other girl to acknowledge her. Isa bobbed her head, hips swaying, lost in the music or her thoughts.
Ember took a step back, feeling like she was intruding and turned to go.
“Get your butt back here,” Isa told her, not looking up.
Ember moved slowly, taking in the granite counters, the double ovens and the breakfast nook that looked like it could seat an army. To her left was another set of stairs. How had she missed those? How could they afford a house like this?
She slid onto a stool at the center island and Isa handed her the bowl. “Stir.”
She did as instructed without question watching the older woman carefully. She moved with grace and efficiency, the kitchen clearly her domain. The hazy windows and soft music created a cozy pocket of calm putting Ember at ease.
She pulled a tray of muffins from the oven and replaced it with one waiting to go in. Ember watched, mesmerized, as the alpha burned herself transferring twelve still hot muffins from the tin. She clutched them by their little decorative papers, each relocation punctuated with a whispered, “Ouch.”
Isa placed new cups in the tins and slid them over to Ember with a small ladle. “One scoop each. Don’t overfill.”
Ember did as she was told, dropping the batter into the paper cups, content to take instruction if it meant she could stay there, hidden in the kitchen with Isa. Isa in the kitchen was its own kind of magic. There was something about the tiny wolf Ember found comforting.
Even in their bubble, Ember was aware there were literal wolves outside the kitchen door. Sounds traveled throughout the house, muted but ever present. Wren and Donovan watched something in the living room, the low murmur of the television was dotted by their occasional laughter. Neoma was singing from somewhere at the top of the stairs but never revealed herself.
It was just the sounds of people existing together but it made her edgy. Most of her nights were spent at the funeral home or alone on the couch waiting for the phone to ring and tell her she needed to pick up her dad from the bar or find a way to pay whoever he owed money to that week. She didn’t know how to be a person somebody liked. Her default setting was sarcasm. Isa said she could stay but what happened when they realized she was awkward and socially inept? How long before she wore out her welcome?
“Ember.”
Her name startled her out of her thoughts.
Isa smiled apologetically, “I know this must be weird for you. I can’t imagine what all of…” she gestured vaguely around the room. “This must seem like to you. I don’t want you to worry. Nobody is going to kick you out. You are now part of our weird little family. Our parents were friends. They would never let you live on the street and neither would I.”
“Even if I keep passing out and redecorating all of your rugs with Satan’s vomit?” she asked, trying for a joke, but flushing with embarrassment.
“Listen,” she dropped her voice down to a whisper, “Rhys turned for the first time when he was seven and shredded my great-grandmother’s hundred year old sofa, three hand sewn pillows and he peed on the carpet under the dining room table. His fangs would drop so often without his permission he talked with a lisp for two years. He was so embarrassed he stopped talking for weeks at a time. It’s why he barely talks today.”
Ember winced. She didn’t want to feel sorry for the wolf, not when he was so hostile towards Kai. Isa went on, “When I first turned, I forgot to bring clothes with me and had to walk home completely naked. Kai botched his first soul collection and the poor dead guy almost got a front row seat to his own autopsy. The stuff that happens to us…it’s no different than puberty for humans, embarrassing and inevitable. You’re just a late bloomer.”
Isa was sweet, trying to make her feel comfortable but she didn’t know how to share space with so many people. She didn’t know how to be part of a family.
“I know we are overpowering. If you think this is too much…if you think we are too much…I can talk to Allister about maybe contacting your father’s family. You were born here, Ember. You have people in this town. Your dad didn’t really get along with them but I can’t imagine they’d turn you away, even if you aren’t a witch.”
She was starting to think the alpha could read minds. She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant but from what she ga
thered, the witches weren’t real fond of non-witches which put her squarely in the middle of a fight she couldn’t even remotely begin to understand. She didn’t think she could handle that kind of anxiety. Not now.
“Ember, I’m not going to lie. We are a huge family. On a slow day, there are six people living here. Donovan has his own place and, technically, Quinn lives with his dad and sister across town but they sleep here more than there. We are loud. Rhys, Kai and Quinn are always bickering. Neoma sings like she’s in a musical. Tristin is often super aggressive and snotty for no discernable reason. Wren wants to fix everybody’s problems and, I’ve been told, when I’m stressed out I’m no Swiss picnic either. We fight a lot. We butt heads a lot. I’m in charge. I’m the alpha and ultimately what I say goes and sometimes people have a problem with that. You don’t have to like what I say but you do have to do what I say. Some people can’t handle that.”
Ember struggled to see what she was getting at. Before she could ask, the timer beeped and the girl spun around, repeating her earlier process. With two trays cooling, the smell of pumpkin was overwhelming. Ember’s stomach growled loudly. Color bloomed on her cheeks but Isa just laughed. She hadn’t eaten all day.
Isa placed a muffin on a paper plate and poured her a glass of milk.
“What I’m trying to say is we want you here and you are welcome to stay but you are free to go if you want. We just want you to stay close by until we figure out what is happening to you. You could hurt yourself.”
“Okay.”
Isa’s face split into a toothy grin, “Okay? You’ll stay with us?”
She took a deep breath letting it out slowly, trying to temper the anxiety building in her chest. “Yeah, sure.”
“Oh and this is now your house too. The kitchen, the living room, the library and porches are all community space. We are used to a crowd. We are lucky enough to have a large house. There are five bedrooms. Two beds per room in all but the master. Quinn usually beds with Kai when he’s here. Neoma prefers to sleep on the couch in the solarium, something about sleeping under the stars. You can have the last room at the top of the stairs. It’s the most private. We will get you your own sheets and any clothes you need tomorrow.”
Children Shouldn't Play with Dead Things (Dead Things Series Book 1) Page 9