Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven

by Bella Forrest

  Silence settled, while my blood started to simmer. What else had he neglected to mention?

  “By all means, keep going, I’m on the edge of my damn seat, here,” I said, gritting my teeth.

  Guilt poured through, in heavy, gut-twisting waves that made it hard for me to move. Luckily, I was still sitting on the table, and not at risk of collapsing again. Alton’s pained expression felt like a hundred daggers poking at my heart.

  “A jury was convened for your father’s trial,” Alton replied, his voice shaking slightly. “I was part of that jury. I did my duty as the New York Coven commanded at the time.”

  “You were on the jury that sentenced my father to death?”

  I could barely hear myself at that point.

  “I didn’t know you were related, Harley,” Alton said. “And even if I knew, that wouldn’t change how I feel about you being here. My decision hasn’t, and cannot, change. You belong here, with us, whether you see it yet or not.”

  “You… You sentenced my father to death,” I repeated, feeling as though my consciousness had somehow left my body.

  “I was on the jury, Harley. We submitted it to a vote. It was eight against three for the death penalty, but I am bound by law to keep my vote a secret. I am sorry for your loss.”

  My father was a convicted murderer. And Alton had sat on the jury that brought him to his death. It wasn’t the latter that really hurt me. Alton had simply done his job. It would’ve been unfair to hold it against him.

  “I’m sorry, too,” I murmured.

  “What happened, Alton? What made you think Harley was related to Hiram?” Wade asked, crossing his arms.

  “Well, a number of things, actually. First, the eyes. Harley, you have your father’s eyes, a perfect copy. I’ve got a photographic memory; I remember every single detail. It took me a while to connect the dots, though, until tonight.”

  He dropped the large book he’d brought in on top of the newspaper clipping album, and flipped through its pages. Various magicals were listed there as full Elementals, from what I could see at first glance. “What’s this?” I asked.

  “I’ve been looking through records of full Elementals,” Alton replied. “This was the second thing that pointed me to Hiram Merlin as your father, and less of a long shot, compared to your physical similarities.”

  He pointed at a section dedicated entirely to my father. Hiram Merlin was a full Elemental. And a murderer.

  “It was only a vague idea, to be fair, just my instinct tugging at my sleeve,” Alton continued. “Until just now. What did you remember about Hiram?”

  “Nothing much, really. Just his name. I was three, maybe… And there was a woman telling him that he had no other choice, that he had to give me up. I guess he was still on the run and I was holding him back. I don’t know.”

  “What did the woman look like?” Alton asked, scratching his stubbled chin.

  “A lot like him, actually. In her early forties. Maybe his sister?”

  “Isadora Merlin. His elder sister, yes. She’s off the grid. She vanished shortly after Hiram was executed,” Alton confirmed.

  “Good grief, I have so many questions.”

  “Me too, but I doubt you’d have answers,” he replied, giving me a sad smile. “Nobody knew you were born. With what happened to Hester… We had no idea at the time.”

  “Yeah, I gathered that from the article,” I said. “Who could possibly know what happened, besides my dad?”

  “Katherine Shipton, but she vanished shortly after your mother’s murder. The details surrounding that tragedy are still quite murky. Your father maintained his innocence until he gave his last breath, despite the evidence pointing right at him. With no one to vouch for him or provide him with an alibi, he didn’t stand a chance.”

  “You sound as though you think he was innocent,” I replied, frowning.

  Alton shrugged. “I never excluded the possibility. Everyone who knew him personally was shocked when the news of Hester’s murder came out. Many didn’t believe it. To this day, some continue to claim he’s innocent. But he was tried and convicted, deemed irredeemable, and executed. We cannot change the past.”

  “At least now you know who your parents were,” Wade said, trying to look for a bright side.

  “Yeah. My dad allegedly killed my mom, lugged me around for three years, then dumped me at an orphanage. Oh, and apparently, he had an affair with my aunt. I think that about sums it up,” I said.

  Now there were two magicals in the hall who were feeling sorry for me. That just added to my inner broil, giving me the urge to just blow this joint and run off somewhere quiet, where I didn’t have to deal with any of it.

  But who was I kidding? I wanted to know more now. I needed to understand the relationship between my parents. I had to find out more about my mother. To understand why my father had done such a horrible thing.

  “What about the other magicals he killed?” I asked.

  “Their families never really recovered. Shortly after Hester’s death, five others were killed, and all the signs pointed to him. The evidence was overwhelming, hence the verdict.” Alton sighed. “Listen, I’ve kept something of his. I brought it here with me from New York. I actually had it stored here, in the archive. Come.”

  He motioned for Wade and me to follow as he took us deeper into the archive hall. At the very end, on a bottom shelf, stuffed behind a pile of old notebooks and journals, was a small, silver-plated box. H.A. Shipton was engraved on the lid, I noticed, as Alton took the box out and gave it to me.

  I slowly leaned into Wade, once again feeling my legs turn to jelly. The box had belonged to my mother.

  “Hester Anne Shipton,” Alton said slowly. “Hiram had this box in his possession when he surrendered. It’s still considered evidence, even after his execution, but we’ve never been able to look inside. I was entrusted with it, in hopes that I’d eventually find a way to open it. The lock is charmed with some kind of spell, but I’ve yet to identify what it is.”

  “Oh,” I breathed. The image of a woman—my mother—burning to death was something I’d never get out of my head, even though I’d never seen her. “So, you don’t know what’s in here?”

  “No. But I think it belongs to you. I’ve had no luck in getting it opened, and maybe you will. I hope,” Alton replied. “The Shiptons passed away a long time ago, and Isadora was the last of the Merlins. I guess now you’re the last of the Merlins.”

  We slowly walked back to the door leading back into the hallway, as I held the box close to my chest. Wade kept himself close, probably in case I collapsed again. I couldn’t exclude the possibility—I felt weak, almost lifeless, as grief clawed at my insides and reopened old wounds.

  Clearly, I’m not getting any sleep tonight.

  “For what it’s worth, Harley,” Alton said after some time, “whatever happened with your parents and your aunt is in the past. They’re all gone. At least you have some kind of closure, and you know where you come from.”

  “Yeah, my dad killed my mom and six other people, but hey, I have a fancy box now,” I said, unable to keep my bitterness to myself. It hurt too much. I had to let some of it out.

  We put the books away, then headed outside. I caught movement ahead, just by the door, and lifted my gaze. I could’ve sworn I saw Garrett just then, but by the time we reached the hallway, there was no one around. With the thought of Garrett and that botched date from earlier, it wasn’t a surprise that he was, in some form, still on my mind. I could’ve just imagined it, anyway, especially since the main hallways and the adjacent ones were all empty.

  “But you’re you, Harley,” Wade replied, his tone firm and strangely comforting. I had a feeling my hard-ass Wade was coming back. Great timing, too, because I was crumbling on the inside. “And Merlin sounds better than Smith as a last name.”

  “Your parents were nowhere near Mediocre, though,” Alton mused. “They were both fearsome and extremely capable magicals. I’ll put toget
her some records for you regarding your parents’ abilities, and send them over next week, for you to read.”

  “Thanks,” I said, following up with a heavy sigh.

  Alton’s sympathetic expression was supposed to make me feel better, but I had a hard time looking at him and seeing the same magical I’d met the other day. This magical had known my father. He had been part of the jury that ended his life.

  And I couldn’t hate him. I couldn’t even be angry with him.

  According to the evidence, my father had killed a lot of people, including my mother.

  And he ruined my life in the process.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  As expected, I barely managed to get an hour’s worth of sleep, as the rest of my night was spent tossing and turning between short sessions of crying and cursing at Chaos itself. I didn’t have any energy left to even look at my mother’s box, much less try to open it. I needed some space to breathe and put things in perspective, what with a killer dad and a dead mom, and more than my life thrown in the careless wind.

  I dragged my ass down for a couple of liters of coffee in the banquet hall the next morning, carrying with me the idea that I had no other choice but to move forward. Alton and Wade were right. At least I knew where I came from. And who I was, by name and not by the actions of my father.

  The entire coven had gathered for breakfast, and I was too tired to even try and control my Empathy. Their emotions hit me hard, like wrecking balls. Their looks, as they all turned their heads to look at me, were worse. What happened?

  Something was off. There was too much pity gathering like lumps of lead in my feet, while contempt stabbed at me like an unsharpened knife. I took deep breaths as I walked across the hall, passing long tables loaded with magicals giving me the stink eye. Some were downright fearful.

  What in the world?

  I kept moving, focusing on the coffee machine reigning in the middle of the buffet table. The smell of freshly baked pastries and fresh fruit titillated my senses, but my stomach rejected the idea completely. Coffee it is, then.

  “I didn’t even know we had such royalty on the premises.” Garrett’s voice stopped me in my tracks, as it was followed by a round of snickering and malicious cackles.

  I looked to my right, to find Garrett at the table, along with Finch, Poe, and the rest of the investigative team. They were all sneering at me, as if they all knew some dirty secret about me—like that time I’d told Ryann I was ten minutes away, when, in fact, I was just getting out of bed. But much worse?

  Oh, crap.

  “What?” I breathed.

  Garrett smirked. “You’re notorious, to say the least, and we had no idea. You should’ve told us who your dad was, Red.”

  “That was you I saw last night by the archive hall, then,” I said, my stomach moving somewhere down to spend time with my ankles.

  “Hey, babe, you leave the doors open, people will hear you,” he replied with a shrug. “But I don’t mind. At least I know we’re not going on a second date. No way in hell I’m going to hang out with the daughter of a serial killer.”

  The investigative team chuckled, along with a few others who’d overheard Garrett. My face burned, and my hands balled into fists. Rage burned through me like wildfire, and I welcomed it because it drowned out all the emotional signals that my Empathy was shoving down my throat in that moment.

  Wade moved to intervene, but I motioned for him to stay back. I fought my own battles, and he seemed to get it. If I needed help, I would ask for it.

  “Are you seriously going to sit there and say those things to me?” I asked, my voice cold enough to freeze the entire hall in less than ten seconds.

  “I’m just telling it like it is, babe,” Garrett replied, then stood up to face me.

  Finch didn’t seem amused anymore, watching Garrett like a hawk. That was new. I’d thought he’d be the head cheerleader in this particular crap-show. The others, however, grinned and giggled, watching with delight as he closed the distance between us.

  “What are you going to do about it, Red? Slit my throat, like your daddy did to your mommy?” Garrett continued, and, for a split second, I contemplated walking away, my conscience telling me he wasn’t worth it.

  But my fist beat me to it, swinging into one hell of a left hook. Garrett’s head jerked to the side. I heard something crack in his jaw as blood spurted out of his mouth.

  Gasps erupted all around. Shock and awe—how did they not see this coming, after what he just said?

  Wade decided to come between us, just as Garrett straightened his back, a grimace of pain distorting his pretty-boy face. He was so ugly on the inside, I was surprised I hadn’t punched him sooner. Sure, he’d gotten on my bad side with his foul mouth from day one, but most of the bullies I’d dealt with were frustrated kids, so I’d given him some benefit of the doubt there. I may not have been able to read his emotions, but his words were poison. And my fists were itching for more. The first punch had felt so good.

  Finch jumped across the table and pulled Garrett back, just as he took his first steps toward Wade and me. “That’s right, your daddy didn’t slit your mommy’s throat, he burned her alive—” Garrett tried to rile me up some more, but Wade cut him off.

  “I will finish what she started if you don’t shut up, Kyteler,” he said, his voice thundering across the hall.

  A sea of wide eyes surrounded us. Our Rag Team slowly got up and moved closer. I could feel their anger; it wasn’t directed at me, but at Garrett. They all wanted a piece of him.

  “Garrett, don’t—” Finch pulled him back, but Garrett pushed him away.

  “Get off! This is a free country!” Garrett replied, then shifted his focus back to me. “I can say whatever the hell I want. Freedom of speech, remember? Besides, I’m only speaking on behalf of this entire coven, particularly the three magicals here who grew up without a parent because of your murderous father, Harley.”

  He pointed at two warlocks and a witch, all in their early twenties, and all glaring at me, like I’d been the one to orphan them… not Hiram Merlin. Their parents were among the six victims I’d read about.

  Ah, man.

  The emotional wrecking balls were tearing my walls down, chunk by chunk. The silent rage, the contempt, that sliver of fear. They were completely irrational because I was not Hiram Merlin, and yet, a part of me actually understood them.

  I opened my mouth to speak, but my voice was gone. Pins pricked the inside of my throat, tears gathering in my eyes.

  “She’s not her father, you idiot,” Wade hissed. “She lost both parents, and, until last night, she had no idea who they were. You should mention that, too, before you start pointing that self-serving, self-righteous finger at her.”

  “I take it Clara didn’t want to talk to you after last night, so you decided to ingratiate yourself with the daughter of a serial killer?” Garrett spat.

  Finch tried to intervene again, surprising me as a voice of reason, but Wade’s anger was past the point of control. His rings lit up red as he put his hands out, shooting a myriad of fiery pellets at Garrett, who immediately lifted his wrist—his Esprit was a watch, and it glowed blue as it fanned out a thin sheet of water in the form of a round shield, protecting him from Wade’s fire.

  “You asshole!” Poe growled, and punched the air in front of him, sending out a pulse that knocked Wade back.

  It went from bad to worse so fast I didn’t even have time to react. All I managed to do was catch Wade before he fell, watching Santana, Tatyana, and Dylan jump in and start delivering fists left and right through the investigative team, with Finch, Garret, and Poe viciously retaliating.

  Two seconds later, Wade jumped back in, while others joined, and I was left stunned and speechless on the sideline for a moment, watching one hell of a magical brawl evolving and swallowing more magicals in the process. I was ready to dive in and help, since I’d practically started it, but O’Halloran and the other instructors rushed in, swinging
their batons around—which weren’t regular, police-issued instruments. White flashes of magical electricity buzzed around the tips and sent shockwaves through the bodies that they touched.

  One by one, the magicals involved in the brawl, including Wade, Garrett, and the others, fell flat on the floor, twitching with their eyes open and drooling like toddlers. The batons were obviously extremely effective, and I was suddenly glad I didn’t follow my initial instinct to join the fight; otherwise, I would’ve been down there, too.

  “Harley, Wade, Garrett, Finch.” Alton’s voice made my head snap toward the main entrance. He was extremely angry. My entire body shuddered in response. “My office. Now!”

  I watched him leave, then looked down at Wade and Garrett, along with the others—still shaking from the electric shocks. O’Halloran smirked. “What’s the matter, toots? Want to know what that feels like?”

  “Nope, I’m good, thanks,” I replied, shaking my head.

  “Good. Let this be a lesson to you all,” O’Halloran shouted, so the entire hall could hear him. “The San Diego Coven does not tolerate violence between its members, and we will not hesitate to use force if you decide to test us, like these brave warriors here.”

  The other instructors chuckled, while the electrocuted magicals struggled to get up. I helped Wade stand, somewhat relieved to feel so much fear coming in from everyone else. They’d all forgotten about me for the moment and were thoroughly spooked by those batons.

  It gave me the window I needed to breathe a little and assist Wade in getting to the exit. I felt sorry for Santana, Tatyana, and Dylan. They’d jumped in to help too, but at least Raffe and Astrid were there, still standing and able to assist them.

  I picked up the pace, as I glanced over my shoulder and saw Finch and Garrett not far behind. Damned if I was going to let them get to Alton’s office first!

  “Ouch,” Wade grunted, as he struggled to walk, one arm over my shoulders.

  “Ouch my ass,” I said. “Come on, we’re in enough trouble as it is!”