Letting out a low growl, Aurora untangled herself from the sheets and slid out of bed. The carpet was soft under her bare feet and Aurora flexed her toes for a moment before crossing the room. A mirror hung above her dresser, her light switch next to it. She flicked it on and her side of the room lit up in warm yellow tones. She blinked her eyes once to adjust.
Her brown hair was unkempt, sticking out around her face in wild curls. She sighed glad no one was here to see her untamed mane. With everything that was going on, she didn't think she could handle her roommate or anyone else seeing her in her pajamas and bed-hair.
Her thoughts turned to Slater. He probably wouldn't protest the pajamas and bed-hair. He might find it cute. Immediately, she pushed him out of her mind as she smoothed down her hair and turned from the mirror.
She wasn't sure anymore what he would find cute. Their relationship was at a standstill. In light of the things that had happened, Slater was moody. He was pissed at Glen and Davis, pissed about the explosion. She wasn't sure if he was pissed at her or not, but if he was, it was probably because of her magick dealings.
No one could really be that understanding. She'd been a fool to think he found it okay.
She eyed the trunk at the foot of the bed. When she returned, she had hastily wrapped up the spell book she had taken from the PRDI and stuffed it in there. Though it no longer pulsed with power, she could still sense it there.
She looked away from it quickly and grabbed her hairbrush from the dresser. She ran it through her gnarled hair forcing herself not to tear open the trunk and take the book back out.
Trying to force the idea of magick out of her head, she thought back to what had happened. Besides her unexplainable dreams, the finding of the book, and her desire to learn and do magick, there had been Rose's first close call on the stairs. Then there was Nola, the new member, and how she had cornered Aurora and intimidated her. There was something odd about her. Finally, there was the car explosion that topped out the suspicious chain of events.
It was no wonder Aurora had woken up, gasping in shock. She could only imagine how Rose felt, being the target of these attacks.
Aurora wasn't really sure if that was what had woken her up or not. A part of her felt it was something more magickal. She had questions and the book had answers.
She stared at the trunk for a long time, debating. The pull was too strong to resist. She gave in, crossing the floor and dropping to her knees in front of it. As she knelt before the trunk she knew it was the draw of the magick that had awoken her and not the previous days’ events.
Her hands trembled as she reached for the key, still in the lock. She turned it slowly. The trunk lid was heavier than she remembered, but it was still easy for her to lift. She pulled it open and peered at the contents within. The book lay where she had placed it, on top of the other magick paraphernalia.
Carefully she lifted the tome and set it in her lap. She closed the lid on the trunk then placed the book on top of it. Slowly, she unfolded the sweater and set it aside. She ran her hand over the empty leather cover.
It seemed thicker than she remembered, but she didn't let its daunting size stop her. The answers were there, somewhere, and she wasn't going to stop until she found it.
Aurora began to leaf through the book, searching through the handwritten text for something she wasn't even sure was there. She was just reaching the pages written in Emily Camille's handwriting when the power came back.
Nola wasn't even near her and it hit her like a jolt. The force was so strong Aurora was thrown back. She let out a little scream as she landed several feet away from the book and the trunk. Her head collided with the floor. Though she landed on carpet, it still smarted.
She groaned as she sat up. She stared at the book, half expecting it to glow. It wasn't, but the power was pulsing, stronger than ever.
As she stood, she felt the power become even stronger. It moved through her, timing with the beating of her heart. She tried to catch her breath, but found she couldn't. Once again, she was drawn to the book. Her feet moved, though she willed them to stay firmly planted.
Once again she knelt in front of the trunk at the foot of her bed. It laid there, its yellow pages open to a text laden entry. She bent over it, her breath bated. She read the words silently at first then before she could stop herself, she whispered them aloud.
"Ancient Ones, I implore, help me find the answers I seek. Open my eyes, open my ears; Lift my heart, release my fears. Show me the answers to the questions I have. Protect me, Show me, Guide me."
After she uttered the last word, Aurora felt a shift in power. She gasped when it hit her, swelling in the air in front of her face. When she breathed in, it entered her lungs and her blood. With every heart beat, she felt it pass through her body. Warmth encompassed her. Her limbs began to tingle and she felt distended, far away.
She fell back again, her fingernails digging into the carpet. The power was overwhelming. She lay on her back, paralyzed with it. It was painful, to the point where she wanted to scream in agony.
But only silence came out of her.
She gasped, holding onto the floor as the room spun. She tried to scream, but her throat constricted. She couldn't even close her eyes. The power was taking her over.
Then suddenly, when she thought her head was going to explode, the power erupted from her. It ripped out of her. She threw her head back as she found her own strength. She writhed on the floor and tried to scream again, but the sound was only in her head.
The pain and power was gone in the blink of an eye, leaving her spent and panting. Tiny whimpers escaped her, the first sounds since the power rush started. Tears squeezed out of her eyes. All she could do was lay there and cry. She was too afraid to move.
Slowly, regaining her composure and nerve, Aurora sat up. She didn't know what to expect, but she was relieved to find the room didn't look like a crash scene. The power had been so strong. It wouldn't have surprised her to see half the room blown away.
The book lay where it had been moments ago, still open to the same page. Aurora held her breath as she neared it and leaned over the page.
She held a hand over it. Nothing. No buzzing, no emanations of power. It was dead.
Aurora blinked as she puzzled over it. She had never encountered anything like this. The power she had felt before, at the PRDI, was strong, but it was not debilitating. And then, for it to just disappear like that ... this was some mojo she wasn't used to working with. Maybe it didn't have anything to do with Nola.
Taking a few deep breaths, Aurora placed her hand on the book. Still nothing. She ran her hand over the yellowed page. It felt rough, dry. Carefully, she closed the book and sat back. Now, she was at a loss for what to do.
She could continue her search, but the power may overtake her again and the young were was terrified of the possibility. She wasn't sure if she could take all of that again.
Her hands trembled for a different reason now as she took up the heavy book and began to wrap it in the sweater again. Maybe the others were right. Maybe she shouldn't mess with magick. No good was coming of it. It was dangerous stuff.
But Aurora couldn't explain the strong desire she had to practice it. It was more than just because her mother may have done it. But the desire was gone now and for once she was glad. She folded the book up into a nice, thick bundle and put it back in her lap so she could open the trunk's lid.
She shivered as she hefted the heavy lid up. It was suddenly cold, so cold her breath came out in gasps of fog. Aurora sat back, glancing toward the wall where the thermostat was set. The temperature was normal. The air conditioning wasn't on at all, but her foggy breath and goose-pimpled arms spoke otherwise.
Aurora shivered again, this time from the foreboding feeling that suddenly hit her. She had read that sudden drops in temperature meant supernatural activity—ghosts, magick, bad things. Her heart began to pound and she closed her eyes. Something was happening.
She trie
d to calm her racing heart and steady her breathing. Whatever was happening, she wanted to be prepared for it—or at least aware of it. She let out a breath, and inhaled.
That's when she caught the scent of lavender. Her eyes flew open.
Lavender. It was the same smell that came from the woman in her dreams.
Aurora felt the not-so-subtle swell of energy come from behind her. She could feel the presence of the woman, her scent stronger. She was not alone.
Slowly, Aurora turned completely so she faced the other way. The red-haired woman stood just in front of the closed door. She looked different than the last time Aurora had seen her, in her dream. She wore different clothes and she looked more ... real.
But this was not a dream. She was wide-awake. This was real.
The red-haired woman stood for a long moment, her eyes closed. She appeared to be hovering, levitating a few inches from the floor. She was corporeal, not transparent like a ghost or spirit, and she appeared to be asleep, comatose and not entirely there.
Her feet touched the floor, finally and she seemed more solid. Aurora watched, holding her breath.
"Hello?” Aurora called, when she could trust herself not to faint. She tried to sound brave, but the tremble in her voice betrayed her.
The woman's eyelids fluttered and her eyes opened. She blinked a few times, and stared at Aurora.
"Leslie?” she inquired.
Aurora shook her head. “No. My name is not Leslie. My name is Aurora. Who are you?"
The red-haired woman blinked in confusion. She turned her head to look around the room. “This place...” she said her voice soft. “What is this place?"
"I asked you a question first,” Aurora said. “Answer me.” She wasn't one for demanding, but this may be her last and only chance to find the answers she had been so desperately trying to find.
"Amelia.” The red-haired woman took a small step forward, but stopped. She looked at Aurora curiously. “Now my question."
"This is my dorm room,” Aurora said. “Why are you here?"
"You called me here. I was—” She stopped and blinked a few times as if trying to remember. “I was asleep and then you brought me here."
"The spell,” Aurora whispered. “Of course."
"Spell? What spell?"
"In a book. I read it out loud. It said something about finding answers to the questions I seek—Why did you come to me before?” She asked, not even finishing. “Why did you call me Leslie?"
"I remember you, from before,” Amelia started. Her eyes were bright, shining. Aurora found she couldn't look away from her. “I came here, before, to find help. I tried to call—” she cut herself off with a shake of her head. “I thought you were someone I knew."
"Someone named Leslie? Leslie was my mother's name."
Amelia only nodded, but she seemed distracted. Aurora didn't let that stop her. She was feeling braver, bolder. She sat up more.
"Were you looking for Leslie Mitchell?"
"Mitchell? I don't know that name."
"But you knew a Leslie, right? You were looking for her?” Sounding more adamant than before, Aurora rose to her feet. She still held the book. It was heavy in her grip.
"Yes,” Amelia said. “Leslie Warren. She was my sister."
Aurora dropped the book and it landed with a hard, loud thud. Aurora's mouth dropped open in surprise. Amelia's gaze left her and dropped to look at the book on the floor. It had come unwrapped from the sweater and lay open to a page somewhere in the middle.
"Warren? That was—wait a minute—who are you, really?” Aurora shook so much she barely said the words.
Amelia appeared not to hear her. She moved forward, her eyes not leaving the book. “That book—where did you get it?"
"The book is mine,” Aurora answered, stooping to pick it up. “I found it. It's mine."
Before Aurora had a chance to react, Amelia stepped forward and took the tome from Aurora's grip.
"Hey!” She reached to take it back, but Amelia had already stepped back. She was studying the book, running her hands over its spine and cover. She opened it to a random page.
"The book is my mother's. It belonged to our family. I would recognize that binding, that handwriting anywhere.” She looked up at Aurora, a stricken look on her face. “Where did you find this? Where is my sister?"
"What?” Aurora shook her head. “I don't know what you're talking about. I found this book. I don't know your sister."
"Leslie Warren. She was my mother's second daughter, born from her second marriage. She is my half-sister.” Amelia looked down at the book she held. “This book belonged to our mother, Emily Camille."
Aurora shook her head. “No, I found this book, in a library. But there is an entry, written by Emily Camille.” She stopped, it suddenly coming together in her mind. “Warren—that was my mother's maiden name."
The room was silent. Aurora could hear the beating of her heart loud within her ears. Their eyes met and Amelia silently mouthed her sister's name. Aurora knew the truth.
This woman standing before her was her aunt. Her mother had been Amelia's sister. Her mother had been a witch, descended from other witches. That meant her aunt was a witch and so was she.
She knew she had been magickally inclined, but to be a witch ... The knowledge came to her like a smack in the face. Aurora was stunned.
"You're—I'm—this can't be happening.” Aurora felt her legs go weak and she eased back against the trunk. The lid closed with a loud thud and Aurora eased herself onto the trunk before her legs gave out completely.
She was a witch. A werewolf and a witch. She had been right all along. Her search for answers had come full circle.
Amelia stared at her, just as shocked. The book slipped out of her hands and once more hit the floor.
"You're my niece. Leslie's daughter. You look just like her—No wonder I thought—” Amelia stopped there, unable to continue.
Aurora felt the book pulse to life once again and she looked down at it as it lay on the floor at Amelia's feet. Amelia's gaze turned to it as well, and then she glanced to Aurora. Her stare stuck.
"I feel it, too."
Aurora wanted to ask her what it meant, what was it they were feeling and why they were feeling it, but her throat and mouth wouldn't work. She tried again, but by the time she was able to speak, it was too late.
Amelia's eyes went wide, as if she were in pain and then suddenly, she was fading away. If she was corporeal before, she wasn't now. Aurora could see right through her. Amelia mouthed something, but Aurora didn't understand.
"Wait,” Aurora cried, finally able to speak. She climbed off the trunk. “Wait! Don't go."
But it was as if Amelia had no choice. She faded until there was nothing left, nothing except for the faint scent of lavender that lingered.
Alone in her room once again, Aurora felt confused, scared, angry all at once.
"Shit,” she yelled, kicking at the Book of Shadows and sending it skidding across the floor. It hit her dresser with a thud and lay there, as if mocking her. She glared at it then sighed. It wasn't worth it to be angry, especially not at a book. What could she do?
The big bombshell that had been dropped was enough to make anyone feel like she did now. Her mother had been a witch—that wasn't a shock, but the strange woman from her dream was her mother's sister. That question was answered, but she still didn't know exactly why she had come to her. For help, she had said, but help with what?
Aurora wished she knew. There was still a part of her that wanted to know what the book had in common with Nola. Forget Amelia, forget her mother and her witchly associations. There was something more going on and she couldn't help but feel that Nola was involved.
She was afraid she had only just tapped the surface of this new dilemma.
There was no chance of Aurora getting back to sleep now. She quickly shook off the biggest part of her shock and set about getting dressed to go out. She would need a ride, but her brot
her was probably asleep and Slater, too. He had to work at his repair shop job in the morning.
She could hail a cab to the PRDI. The PRDI would have answers, somewhere. If anything, she could talk to Rose, or Glen about what was going on. They may be able to help.
Or maybe Dr. Nesbitt. She would have answers.
She mulled over the last part as she slipped on her sneakers. If anything, being around familiar faces would comfort her.
Aurora glanced down to the book on the floor. If she was going to talk to someone, she wanted the book as proof. Quickly, she located her backpack among the pile of schoolbooks on her desk. She stuffed the heavy book inside it and zipped it securely. The pulse of power was minimal, if at all there.
She slid the backpack on her shoulder and grabbed her jacket from her dresser, and slipped out the door.
If the cab driver was fast, she could get to the PRDI by mid-morning. The sooner, the better.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Eighteen
Alana stood at the front desk of the hotel, hand on her hip as she waited for Miguel to finish up the transaction. They were checking out, as early as it was. They would've left sooner, but it took them that long to come up with a new plan.
It was time to go, time to put this new plan into action. And Alana was ready and anxious. She tapped her foot against the floor, impatiently. Miguel was taking much too long.
The plan this time was to go to the PRDI immediately. Alana would go in and put on her best Nola face. She would charm her way past Davis and make her way to the Head's office. Once there, she would talk to Glen ... privately. She didn't need Miguel's suggestions to know she would have to somehow seduce Glen into telling her the whereabouts of Jason.
They were already suspicious enough of her. After the car bombing, she didn't want to show her face there again. But it was Miguel who decided she should go back, regardless of how alienated she may be. Returning would ease the suspicions of her. If she was a fugitive, she wouldn't have returned.
It sounded like a good plan, in theory, but it didn't settle well with Alana. It sounded dangerous and she knew if she were discovered there would be hell to pay, but she put those thoughts out of her mind. Her determination to kill Rose, and find Jason and kill him too was strong. She wouldn't let anything stop her.
Dark Moon Magick [The Moon Series: Book 4] Page 22