Double-Sided Magic (Legacy Series Book 1)

by McKenzie Hunter

  Another gust of magic shot through the air and pounded into her motionless body. I grabbed the knife out of my ankle sheath and darted out the door. I wished I had the twins, but just as with a sword it was really hard walking down main street with them without risking getting odd stares and possibly an unrequested police escort to wherever you were going. If I wanted to stop the magic being used against Blu’s, I had to stop it at the source. Outside, I let the magic wash over me, assessed the rhythm of it and the subtle variations that made it uniquely the practitioner’s. Supernaturals knew that all magic’s source can be identified once they know the owner. Like every musician has a sound that makes their music uniquely theirs, so does a magic user have a magic that is only theirs. I’d felt this brand of magic at the Haven, when Jonathan sent an explosion of it into me.

  Where are you, bastard?

  Curses and spells could be done from a distance, but they were much stronger the closer the practitioner was to the target. But you had to be close to perform defensive and offensive magic. You can’t toss someone across the room if you are hundred feet away.

  Knife in hand, I went around the house, following the motes of magic that drenched the air from used magic. I darted around the large trees that crowded the area. The magic aura became too light to trace. He was gone or had stopped using it. In a thicket in the forest, I scanned the area, listening for sounds and trying to decipher them from those of nature. I heard a branch break off to my right, and light footsteps. I ran, catching the shadowy figure as he moved deeper into the forest. It wasn’t Jonathan—this guy was several inches taller with lighter brown hair. The closer I got, I could sense the silhouette of magic that seemed to follow him. Strong but familiar. He didn’t walk as much as he seemed to glide with the grace and agility of a vampire.

  When I was just inches from him, he whipped around. Broad, sculpted features and a hook nose. Supple lips formed a sharp straight line. The magic was familiar because it was the one I felt when Blu was attacked, and the same magic was present when the shifters attacked us. He wasn’t fae, or mage. Legacy? No, this wasn’t my magic—it was different, purer than pure. It was too much, a potent dose that was too much to take. An overwhelming surge of magic that needed to be diluted. It needed to mix with something that a person could take and actually survive. Who could go up against him and stand a chance? I stood, staring at someone who made what I was pale in comparison. His eyes flashed and my body was seized, forced still. He glided toward me in silence, each step reminding me less of a vampire and more of a predator in the jungle, ready to attack.

  I hated the silence, I felt submerged in it as though the world stopped, and everything around me seemed so small. Transfixed by his eyes, I was unable to pull away. He stepped closer, his lips barely moved, but I could feel magic pouring over me, clouding my mind, plucking at my thoughts. He was trying to pull something out, a memory—this memory. The memory of him.

  My head hurt from the sudden attack of magic. I recalled every session with my mother when she taught me reversal spells, some of the few I had been allowed to learn. I went for the strongest. I was always taught when performing spells that specificity was important. I didn’t have time to be specific; I pushed, magic full force. Harder, stronger than anything I’d used in my life. My binding broke free, but not without consequences. My skin felt excoriated as though I had physically ripped myself out of the binding. He shuddered, the first emotion he’d shown. He looked around. I heard it, too—footsteps. Then Gareth called my name. He tried again to pull the memory, a flick of his hand tossing me back against a tree. My head slammed into it. Dizzy. The buzz of his magic overtaking me. Pulling. Yanking. Attacking. If he was a Legacy … he was a Legacy 2.0. Upgraded to dangerous level.

  Gritting my teeth, I pushed back. He stumbled back. A smile of wry appreciation and interest cloaked his features. Pulling in the magic, forming a massive ball of it, I thrust it out. He crashed back. Gareth’s voice rang in the air. He was on his feet again. Pushing me back against the tree. Another hard shove; I saw color, my head began to swim, and more colors coursed over my eyes in vibrant sparks. When he tried it again, I blocked it. I needed the memory. I needed to remember him.

  More magic—hard magic—blasted from me. He grunted; I’d done damage, but I couldn’t see how much. I had a hard time focusing. It took me a moment. I stood, head cloudy, but I wasn’t going to let him get away. I stumbled after him, vision blurry, I made out the faint smile as the earth opened up and he slipped through. No. I must have been more injured than I thought. He didn’t just open up the air and walk through it. A veil. He slipped through a veil.

  I wanted to clear my thoughts, shake my head, but it hurt too much to do so.

  “Levy, are you okay?”

  I spoke, and I didn’t recognize the sound of my own voice. Exhausted from using magic that I hadn’t let free in years. My body ached like I’d worked it too hard. My head throbbed from breaking a spell and being pounded into a tree. “How’s Blu?”

  “She’s fine—a lot better than you seem to be. You don’t look so good.”

  “I’m fine.” I said that out loud, right?

  I cradled the blanket closer to me, shrugging at the relentless tapping on my shoulder, which was becoming annoyingly more frequent. Then there was a light shake. Again I tried to shrug off their touch.

  “Levy, sit up!” Gareth’s voice was deep and commanding. Stern enough to open my eyes, even if it was just to give him a dirty look.

  “Why are you yelling at me?”

  “Sorry, I have to wake you up every two hours. If not, you’re going back to the Isles.”

  I rolled over and sat up on the side of the bed. “Back?”

  “Yeah, you kept saying you were okay, but you passed out right before telling me not to take you to the hospital. So I made a compromise. I took you there, had you checked out, and now you’re here.”

  I looked around the large simple room. Dark furniture: dresser and armoire. Bare cream-colored walls. Curtains, covering a large ceiling to floor window, drapes drawn, making the room exceptionally dark. If it weren’t for the light spilling in from the hallway and the gentle glow of a small cylinder light next to me, the room would have been pitch-black.

  “Okay, well I’m awake. You can take me home.”

  An amused laugh filled the room. The gentle illuminations caused little flicks of light to cast over his eyes, just enough to make them glint with his chuckle. “That’s not part of the deal.”

  “You made a deal with a barely conscious person? Pretty shady.”

  He shrugged, the smile still settled on his face, lips kinked. “Fine, the Haven it is.”

  I glared at him. My head was aching so much that a good eye roll was out of the question.

  “Get some sleep, aspirins are on the nightstand. You’ve been okayed to take them. The sandwich is for you if you want it.” And then he closed the door. It was nearly dark. I touched the metal of the small cylinder lamp and it brightened and offered more light. I liked to see what I was eating. I took a bite out of it. It was hard to be mad at him while stuffing my face with a turkey sandwich on a croissant with pepper jack cheese and a delicious spread that brought it together beautifully. His nanny, lady of the house, house manager, or whatever title he gave her had just been given the title of world’s best sandwich artist. And when I noticed the homemade cookies on the plate next to it, she had been upgraded to new friend.

  When I awoke for the second time, I had no idea how long I’d been asleep. The room was pitch-black; someone had turned off the small nightlight. I tapped it once and enough light came off of it for me to find my phone on the table. Only one text from Savannah, which meant she must have spoken to Gareth.

  I sat up for a moment letting the images of today that had been dormant come alive. Fear coursed through me as I remembered the strength of his magic, potent and familiar. Magic sheathing my skin to remove my memories again. A spell that could remove my memories of his fa
ce so I couldn’t tell anyone. He was familiar, but not a Legacy. There was something distinctly different. I couldn’t believe that I was torn by this innate odd alliance to a person whom I’d met for mere moments when he had attacked me. There was doubt. Was he afraid the way I was in the cave and the very first time I’d seen a Tracker? Did the memories of watching his family murdered by one cause him to react out of self-preservation? I closed my eyes, and all the thoughts and memories melded together. I tried to make sense of it.

  It was obviously the man from the woods who took my memories; but why? Was it to protect me? He could have killed me that night. Did I see something and he feared it would put me in danger? Jonathan, what was his role? There were too many unknowns and variables that made things too difficult to figure out.

  After sitting up, I went back to bed. Gareth came in again to wake me up. He asked me a few questions and then let me go back to sleep. It was a little after ten at night when I finally felt rested enough to get up. Moving to the edge of the bed I expected a headache, but luckily it was gone, although there was still soreness. I had definitely hit a tree, and I wasn’t totally convinced a car hadn’t rammed into me. Stretching didn’t help, either, but it seemed to make the bound muscles loosen enough for me to move better.

  Silence bothered me. Often it meant danger. Predators and Trackers often moved in silence. I called Gareth’s name as I made my way through the house; only a light at the end of the hallway was on but it was enough to illuminate the long path. I’d finished the water in my room and even while asleep, I’d burned through the sandwich and cookie. I went to the kitchen to get some food but quickly became distracted by the view outside—the forest that stretched so far and tall that I could just see the top of the neighboring home, in the distance. Gareth came out from it, a hint of moonlight offering enough light for me to distinguish him as he emerged naked before stepping into a pair of jeans. Once again, I had seen his exposed body. I looked too long, focusing on his chest, broad and defined, his strong features and captivating eyes. I was disappointed in myself for staring. I started to look away, but not before he caught me.

  A hint of a smile graced his supple lips and remained as he approached the house, holding eye contact the whole time. I found it hard to look away. He was quiet as he entered the house and neared me, slow movements as though he was approaching cowering prey. I didn’t cower, but maybe I should have, just so I’d have a distraction. I needed a distraction. And when he reached out to touch me, I jerked back liked he was a flame and I was trying to move out of danger. Smiling, he ran his hand over the back of my head, where I assumed he figured I hit it. The hint of oak drifted off him and I inhaled, breathing him in.

  “No lumps. It is as hard as I suspected.”

  “Is that how you treat a guest in your home? Real nice, Mr. Gareth.”

  He didn’t move. Instead he remained close, holding my gaze in the same manner he had walking to the house. And I found myself just as entranced by it. Look away. Savannah was getting an apology for being vamp fangirl, because I had a feeling I was falling into one of my shifter fan girl moments. I was aware of what was happening, an attraction that was probably more primal than anything. It wasn’t real. It was just his presence speaking to a carnal part of me—or that’s what I was trying to convince myself of. Whether it was the truth or not, I needed to ignore it.

  “How do you feel?”

  “Fine. No headaches. Nothing. Back to my old self.” But was I? My old self was able to overlook how handsome Gareth was. My old self didn’t fixate on his lips and wonder what it felt like to kiss them. My old self didn’t let inappropriate thoughts pop in my head and stay.

  His lips pressed lightly against mine. Then again, a little more commanding, harder. Responding I moved closer, digging my fingers into the skin of his waist. His body pressed next to mine; one hand wrapped around my waist, the other threaded through my hair, pulling me closer to him. He abruptly pulled away.

  “Now that’s out of the way, maybe you can concentrate.” He stepped back and leaned against the counter, wearing the smuggest smirk of all smug smirks.

  This is why I haven’t been enthralled by him—arrogant, smug, narcissistic. How did I let that escape me, even for a moment?

  “What?”

  “You were staring at my lips, I’m sure wondering what they felt like. Now you know.” I’m glad it didn’t hurt to roll my eyes because they did just that, and hard.

  “Do you need another, or will that do? I can give you another.”

  I tossed a cold look in his direction that only encouraged him. “I’m fine.”

  “What happened today?” he asked, his voice a little rougher, deeper than usual. He held my gaze for a moment, but directed his attention past me. It kept drifting back to me and then to my lips before he moved it away. Seemed like Gareth needed to get it out of the way more than I did.

  “Some jackass gave me a magical TKO.”

  “What did he look like?”

  “Thin—very. Tall, a little over six feet. Brown hair, sharp features, cold empty gray eyes. I’ve never seen him before. Dressed odd, long coat, embellished. Slacks and a white shirt. I don’t know if he was the one who stole my memory before, but he tried to steal it then. I—” I stopped abruptly. I’d nearly told him everything. Including how I fought him off.

  “You what? What did you do?”

  “I fought him off.” So what that I left off the part about doing it with magic?

  “Did you see Jonathan?” he asked. “I could smell him close to the house.”

  “No.” My words were clipped and I forced myself to say just that, although I’d almost said that I had sensed his magic. I was getting careless around Gareth, dropping my guard. He was one of the last people I needed to drop my guard with.

  “You don’t think he’s involved in any of this?” I asked.

  I expected an emphatic denial, after all, he was on the Magic Council. It wasn’t as though they were infallible, but there were status and honor that went with the position and I can’t imagine that there were many things that would cause them to sully the reputation of the Council or jeopardize their position on it. But obviously Gareth didn’t feel that way based on the long moments of deliberation.

  “I don’t know,” he finally admitted, scrubbing his fingers over his face then through his hair. I jerked my eyes away from him and settled them on the beautiful view outside. The waterfall, gentle splashes, and the shimmer of the moon that reflected on it were soothing. “I’ve called him several times without a response. Which is just as well, I prefer to question people in person.”

  I knew it was so that he could ascertain if the truth was being told or not. He looked over at his phone, which had started to vibrate. I assumed it was Jonathan, finally returning his call. He glowered and looked back at me. “Tell Savannah, I will not hesitate to block her number. Does she realize that I’m not your court-appointed guardian?”

  I shrugged a response, trying hard to ignore his lips that were pressed against mine just minutes ago. Focus on the issue, I scolded myself, but I had a hard time redirecting. I was embarrassed that he had affected me that way.

  He pushed up from the counter and turned, his body sidled in so close that I could feel the ridges of his abdomen. “I’d invite you to stay the night, but I don’t think I care to have to deal with Savannah’s excessive calls.” And he disappeared down the hall. He returned with a shirt, and we headed to the car.

  CHAPTER 12

  Savannah held the blade with the skill of someone who actually knew what she was doing with it. But she stayed close as we entered the dense woods near the home Blu used to perform magic. Each one of her steps was measured and slow.

  “Why don’t we call Gareth and get backup?

  “Because I don’t work for the Guild, and I don’t think I can call for backup.” My voice matched hers in a gentle low cadence. I would have loved to go at this alone, but the moment I told her my plans to find the ma
n who tried to steal my memory she wasn’t having it. I realized that her siblings probably chose universities out of the city to get away from the overbearing big sister. I was just six months younger and I was suffocating under her “help.”

  “Just to make sure I have this straight: you want to go into the spooky forest alone, with me as backup, so you can find a magical veil and a man who you said, and I quote, ‘gave me a magical ass kicking?’”

  I stopped, grinning and baring all my teeth, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”

  She pulled out her phone and I knew who she was about to call. “Savannah,” I hissed through clenched teeth.

  Startled with my anger, she jerked. And as she asserted herself, she placed her hand on her hips. It was lecture time. “He has a seat on the Magical Council and is head of the Supernatural Guild, why wouldn’t you call him?”

  I sighed, heavy and deep. “For those very reasons.” I stepped closer; even in the empty woods I didn’t feel safe saying it out loud. “You know what I am. The less time I’m around him the better.”

  “He seems okay.”

  “Are you willing to bet my life on it?” I asked gravely. Then I started to back away. “At the end of the day he has a job to do. He’s threatened to put me in the Haven for obstruction, what do you think he’ll do if he finds that out?” I started walking again. “And all the kissing in the world isn’t going to keep him from doing his job.”