Hidden Magic: An Ancient Magic Novel

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Hidden Magic: An Ancient Magic Novel Page 4

by Stephany Wallace


  One.

  This wasn’t the first time I had experienced this feeling in the past two weeks.

  Two.

  I wasn’t sure what it was, but there was something about the energy that called to me. Attracted me to it, and no matter how creeped out by it I should be, I wasn’t. It felt… appealing. Familiar even.

  Just like it came the feeling disappeared. I scanned the place again but I couldn’t see anything “out of place,” in any case, whoever had been watching me, wasn’t there anymore. The absence of the energy felt almost as strong as the energy that had been there before.

  “Yep, my craziness is definitely expanding.”

  Back at my desk, I finished reading my book just to be smacked in the face with a cliffhanger.

  “Grrr, how I love/hate those!”

  I “one clicked” the hell out of the next book in the series to read once I was back home. Then I picked up two more books, that my little friend Amazon decided to recommend to me while in the process.

  “And my TBR just keeps growing,” I wasn’t sure I’d ever finish the damn thing.

  Thinking of what I could possibly do next, I decided to do some “research,” summer was finally here and I was going to need new strappy sandals. I logged into my computer and froze. The little hairs on my arms stood up. The feeling had returned.

  “What the…”

  I trailed off bewildered and I lifted my head. Everything was normal around me. People concentrated on their work. A few spoke loudly on the phone and argued or discussed the details of their case, but I couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. I stood up slowly as the feeling continued to travel down my back, intensifying. My eyes searched the hall to my right and behind me over the partition. Philip sat at his desk working, oblivious to what I was experiencing. Not that he would actually find it interesting. Slowly, I stepped out of my cubicle and closed my eyes focusing on the feeling. It was coming from the left.

  “The copy room?”

  I decided to follow the current of energy. I opened the door to the room gradually to peek inside. For a split second I could swear my eyes locked with unfamiliar green ones. Before it could register an unexpected gleam of light made me turn away covering my eyes. It wasn’t the intensity of it but its startling appearance that had caught me off guard. My heart started racing.

  “What on earth was that?”

  I blinked a few times trying to calm myself. My lungs started hurting and I realized I was holding my breath. My eyes searched the office but everyone around me continued their work. No one had noticed. I exhaled, then inhaled slowly and decided to take control of my fear. I looked forward, pushed the door open abruptly and barged inside.

  “Aha!” I announced pointing my finger in the air as if to catch someone in the act, but which “act” I wasn’t completely sure. Making copies?

  The room was empty. There was no one there. But there had been someone. I was almost certain… those eyes. I could still feel the energy that had been in the room or the lack thereof. Just like in the coffee shop. But who could it be? And what had caused the light? Was I imagining things? No, someone had definitely been here. I walked further in and looked around. I opened the supply closet, looked behind the copy machine but found nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing was out of place. The machine was cold which meant it had not been used. Sighing, I decided to shrug it off and go back to my cubicle. It was probably my overactive imagination. It was almost the end of the day. Grandpa would be here soon to pick me up and drop me off at home before his shift at the library.

  I turned around to leave, “Aahh!”

  Felix, the owner’s son, stood a foot from me with that smug, stupid look of his. His honey brown eyes penetrated into mine while he looked down on me. The thin gold highlights in his hair shone with the light on the ceiling. I wouldn’t doubt for a second he actually had them done in a beauty salon. He had a long face and nose and a neatly trimmed goatee. His skin was perfectly tanned, probably from spending the weekend at the beach with some model. He was wearing a skinny burgundy suit that seemed to be made of silk. The fabric reflected the light with a subtle sheen. It was expensive for sure. Probably Gucci or Valentino. It fit him impeccably, like it had been custom made. He had a slim physique but still managed to be built. Even the way he walked bugged me, everything about him screamed gigolo. He would actually be hot if he weren’t such a sleaze ball.

  He smirked at me and I tried not to gag. I hated that smile. No scratch that. I hated his whole face. I mean, I didn’t really hate his face but that arrogant, superior look of his got on my nerves. When someone was as annoying as him and on top of that he was tall and literally looked down on you, it made you kind of want to smack them silly.

  One of these days I was going to have the pleasure of wiping that smile off his face.

  Ugh, pompous, arrogant, little… I placed my hand on my chest and took slow breaths trying to even out my heartbeat. He chuckled placing his hands in the front pockets of his slacks.

  “Are you trying to give me a heart attack? Hasn’t anyone ever told you before, that you shouldn’t sneak upon people?”

  “Hey carrot curls, what are you doing here? Having a secret meeting with your boyfriend during office hours?” He spoke ignoring my outburst, looking behind me.

  I took a deep breath trying to compose myself. It wasn’t in my best interest to slap the son of the owner in here. Outside, I may actually consider it. And what kind of nickname was carrot curls? It wasn’t event original. Dimwit.

  “Briana,” I reminded him. “And I was just checking the room, I thought I… saw something,” I answered reluctantly and confused, to be honest.

  He chuckled sarcastically, “What? Someone working? Yeah it’s something people do around here. You should try it sometime. You know? To actually earn the money that we pay you.”

  My blood began to boil. It wasn’t my fault I hadn’t been assigned any cases as of yet. I had repeatedly asked my supervisor, his uncle, when the next environmental case would come in. The firm wasn’t too big on those, which was the first indication that hiring me had definitely been a mistake. But they scouted me right out of law school. They had even hired me before I graduated. I hadn’t even taken the Bar yet but they hadn’t cared. I was planning on finishing all my steps anyway so why not? It was a great opportunity and they said the firm would be a good fit for me. They offered me a decent salary that in all honesty, I couldn’t afford to turn away. We needed the money. Once I got here and I realized the lack of assignments, I had even offered to look for cases and bring them in. Or just assist any other associates in the meantime. But he had shot me down with a resounding, “NO.” There were no explanations that could make him see reason. He had barely let me finish before advising that I should fulfill my daily schedule and stay “available” for whenever they needed me.

  Whatever that is supposed to mean.

  I took a deep breath. “I’m waiting for Mr. Cornelli to assign me a case. Now if you’ll excuse me,” I said moving to walk around him and out of the room but he side stepped me, blocking my exit. I sighed.

  “Excuses, excuses carrot curls.” He paused then looked me up and down slowly. His eyes stopped on my chest, not even bothering to hide the fact that he was checking me out. “You know; I’ve never slept with a redhead before. What do you say? It could be fun.”

  I wanted to hurl, actually scratch that. I wanted to knee him in the nuts then go hurl from the insinuation. I could feel my face turning red from my outrage. I gritted my teeth, trying to contain my temper. I failed.

  “You obviously haven’t heard about sexual harassment suits either!” I said then continued not able to stop myself. “Which really speaks volumes about your capacity to even do a job you know nothing about. I mean unless you forgot the tiny little fact that you are supposed to be a ‘lawyer,’” I said making air quotations with my fingers. I pushed him aside and walked to the door then turned. “You know, maybe I should just take a walk
down to the third floor to HR and inform them of this. They might give you a little information you can find useful.”

  He shrugged, “I’m the son of the owner. What are they going to do, Fire me?”

  “Unbelievable!”

  Seething by this point, I clenched my fists, turned around and stormed out of the room. His annoying laughter boomed behind me.

  I was livid by the time I got to my desk. Looking at my phone I realized it was already 5:52pm. Grandpa would be here at 6:05pm to pick me up and he was never late. I logged into the timekeeper system and punched out for the day. Turned off the monitor and noticed the light at the top do the same thing as before.

  Weird.

  I snatched my purse from the drawer and walked to the elevator. The familiar electronic hiss of the motion sensor camera followed me. This firm had really tight security. There were cameras everywhere. The elevator required a badge scan to operate, and a finger scan to reach the executive floors. Plus, we all had to go through a metal detector when getting in and out of the building. Apparently a few years back a disturbed man that had lost over half his fortune in his divorce proceedings came here to seek revenge on the attorney that represented his ex. He had a gun in hand. Fortunately no one was hurt but after that they increased security. Once downstairs I went through the metal detector.

  Of course, as it is my luck, the stupid machine always seems to take longer scanning me. Or whatever it is that it does when I stand under it.

  It only added to my annoyance. I took my purse from the side table after the guard searched it and walked to my usual corner to wait. The entrance wall of the building was pure glass, so I would be able to see Grandpa as soon as he arrived. Spotting him didn’t take long, considering the fact that he was quite possibly the last person in the world to still drive a Cadillac station wagon. Now that I had a job and could help with expenses, I was totally saving to buy him a new car. With some luck and a little extra help from my Christmas bonus, it would be my gift to him. Not that we actually celebrated Christmas, but still. Grandpa had spent his life taking care of me, we never had much but he always provided anything that I could possibly need. Now I was twenty-three years old, graduated and working in a law firm. I was officially an adult, and I could help.

  I knew the second he arrived. As if the visual indication wasn’t enough, the noise accompanying the car was unmistakable. I chuckled, when the people in the lobby turned to look outside. I grabbed my purse from the chair next to me and walked to the main entrance of the building. Then stood just inside, and waited as Grandpa parked right out front and walked towards me. He opened the door and gave me a kiss on the forehead.

  “My little Bee, how was your day sweetheart?” He said with the usual smile on his lips.

  And just like that all my anger disappeared. I loved my Grandpa. He always could make my troubles go away. I walked out beside him, and looped my arm through his. We walked to the car.

  “It was good Grandpa, busy as usual,” I lied. If he knew what I really did every day, he would tell me to quit and come home. That I didn’t go to school and study as hard as I did just to be treated that way. That I was nobody’s servant and they could get their own damn coffee!

  Well, he wouldn’t really say “damn” but I added that for emphasis.

  No, I couldn’t tell him. I needed to get out, see people. Do something.

  Once at home I let my Grandpa walk me to the door. “Have a great night at work, Grandpa.”

  “I will sweetheart, I love you. Be careful. Call me if you need anything. I’ll be here as usual at 7:30 tomorrow morning to pick you up and take you to work.” His eyes were soft and his eyebrows pinched as if it pained him to leave me.

  I chuckled. He always did the same thing when he left. He was such a worrywart. “I’ll be fine,” I said going on my toes to kiss his cheek. “I love you too.”

  He smiled and waited for me to close the door before walking to the car. I sat by the window and watched him drive away.

  My Grandpa was such a wonderful man, a caretaker. I wish he would fall in love again.

  He deserves happiness after being through so much. I mean, losing your only son and wife in one night. That has to be one of the hardest things a person can go through.

  He refuses to put himself “out there.” And being the night custodian at Seattle’s Central Library doesn’t really offer much of an opportunity for meeting someone. Unless she’s a creeper, hanging outside a closed library at 2am.

  Suddenly, an image flashed in front of my eyes as if I was seeing it for the very first time. Emerald eyes stared back at me with a mixture of curiosity and alarm.

  “Had I really seen them? Had someone been in the room?”

  For a split second, I could have sworn I saw a man. But if someone had truly been there how was there absolutely no one to be found once I opened the door?

  He can’t just vanish into thin air, can he? This is going to drive me crazy.

  “Maybe I am finally going crazy.”

  All this isolation was bound to get to me at some point. I just figured one day when Grandpa was gone, I would try and rejoin the world around us. I never thought I’d be bonkers by then. I blinked erasing the thought from my mind, just thinking about Grandpa not being here anymore made me sad. My stomach unceremoniously rumbled breaking me out of my thoughts and reminding me it was dinnertime. I walked to the kitchen, opened the oven door and there it was, a warm plate of…

  “Ah chicken and potatoes, my favorite,” I said removing the tin foil. I grabbed a fork and walked to the sofa.

  Once I settled in the cushions, I placed the plate on my lap and grabbed my kindle ready for another round.

  *

  “Ugh!” I exclaimed exasperated with the book I was reading, and threw my kindle on the sofa next to me. I shot daggers at it then sighed.

  “Poor little Kindle, it’s not your fault.”

  I said picking it up, giving it a little kiss then placing it carefully on the coffee table in front of me. It wasn’t its fault that I was utterly irritated with Elizabeth, the heroine in the story. She was the best, but I swear sometimes I wished she were real just so I could smack some sense into her!

  You know what I mean. Have you ever been there? Closing a book because you just can’t stop yelling “Don’t do it, don’t do it!” And what do you know? They go right ahead and do it anyway.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for a strong independent woman, but the “I’m stubborn only because I can be. So I’m going to totally ignore your warning and do whatever the hell I want without using common sense because no one is going to tell me what to do,” gets old pretty fast.

  This might be a wild idea, but don’t you think there is a reason, maybe, just maybe, why your hero is telling you to run?

  Let me let you in on a little secret. There are times to be brave and stubborn, but sometimes you just need to run, sister. Run like the wind! To infinity and beyond! And all that jazz.

  I sighed and looked around me trying to find my next task of the evening. It was only 8:30pm. I picked up my dirty dish from the coffee table and went to the kitchen to wash it. I cleared the dishwasher and decided to rearrange the utensil drawer. I finished wiping the counters and moved my cleaning party upstairs to the one tiny bathroom our old townhouse had. After a round of “spot the dirt, kill the dirt,” I left the bathroom sparkly and walked to the bedrooms. I changed both Grandpas’ bed sheets and mine. Did a load of laundry and returned to my bedroom to check the clock on my nightstand. I almost pulled my hair out. It proudly displayed 9:30pm.

  “One hour! I have done all this work and only one hour has passed?”

  I let my body fall onto my bed face first and considered how lame my life truly was. I stayed like that for about another ten minutes until it became hard to breathe. Then turned my face and placed my defeated cheek on the soft cover. I considered my options.

  “I really need to get a life.”

  I said realizing the o
bvious for about the hundredth time. It was Wednesday night and here I was, cleaning the house and bored out of my mind at only 9:30pm. Not that I knew what having a social life was like, but I had enough sense to know that regular twenty-three year-olds were out and about on ladies night. I sighed, and picked myself up from the bed dragging my body into my sparkly bathroom to take a shower.

  Finally slipping into my, polka dots drawstring pants and my white tank top, I stepped out of the bathroom. My wet hair fell on my back, slightly wetting the tank top while I brushed it. I walked to the laundry closet and removed Grandpa’s clothes from the dryer placing them into the folding basket then adding another load. I went back downstairs.

  My polka dot covered butt fell on the sofa and I placed the basket with the clothes on the floor next to me. I reached for the remote turning on the TV, and then began to search the channels for something to watch. There was nothing interesting on. I was about to give up when I remembered the On Demand option I had added to our cable service with my last paycheck. Excited and with a new determination, I went through the list of saved shows until I found something I liked.

  “Ooh Merlin!” I squealed when I realized there was a show about the famous wizard that had pretty much dominated my life as a child.

  On my tenth birthday, after we stopped moving and finally settled here, my Grandpa gave me the best gift I could have ever received. A book. But it wasn’t just any old book. It was a book about Merlin, about magic, dragons, and fairies. It opened my eyes to a whole new wonderful world. Before that day I used to get bored to death in the library because I spent all day with Grandpa at his job. He used to work day shifts when I was little. I would complain and whine when he would tell me to read something while we were there.

  “Books are portals to thousands of fascinating worlds. You just need to choose where you want to go.” He would say.

 

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