I knocked once and waited patiently with Dylan and Astrid by my side.
“Do you think they’re home?” Astrid asked, her eyes glued to the screen.
“Their car is here,” I said, pointing at the Chrysler in the small driveway. I knocked a second time, this time loudly enough to startle some birds in a nearby bush. “They’re home.”
It took a third knock to hear footsteps in the hallway.
The door opened, and we were greeted by Maria Heller. She was a Latina woman, a buxom beauty wearing a white shirt and casual jeans, with her long black hair caught in a tight bun. Her wide brown eyes fixed on me for a moment, but her expression was firm and… blank.
“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone clipped.
“Hi, Mrs. Heller?” I replied. She nodded and crossed her arms. I noticed her hands shaking. A little red light went on in my head. “I’m Tatyana Jones, and these are my colleagues, Dylan and Astrid,” I said, following the fake last name protocol as I flashed my ID card. “We’re from Social Services. We’re doing our monthly visit, and we thought we’d stop by to see how you were doing.”
She frowned. That was never a good sign. “We had Social Services come in on Wednesday. You guys getting confused now, or what?”
“This is a follow-up visit,” I replied calmly, watching her expression. “Mind if we come in?”
Maria thought about it for a second, then sighed and motioned for us to follow her inside.
“Kenneth! Social Services is here!” she called out as she advanced through the hallway. She stopped and looked to her left. Her nostrils flared before she put on a faint smile. “There you are, sweeties.”
She went into the living room. As soon as we joined her, I got that nagging feeling in my chest again—this time threatening to gnaw at my stomach. The living room area was decorated in a hacienda style. I recognized the arches and walnut furniture. I’d seen a similar arrangement back in my parents’ summer house, on the outskirts of Mexico City.
In the middle, stiffly seated in a leather armchair, was Damian Heller, wearing a white polo shirt and what I lovingly referred to as “dad jeans.” On the sofa, casually leaning on its left arm, was Kenneth Willow. Kenneth caught my eye—his outfit was crisp and neat, with starched cream pants, a white shirt, and beige vest, complete with a dark red bowtie. His reddish hair was combed back and loaded with styling gel, and his bright green eyes darted from me to Dylan and Astrid, then back to me.
He put on a broad smile as Maria stood with her arms crossed.
“Hi, I’m Kenneth!” the seventeen-year-old magical said.
I knew he was a magical for sure because of the small gem mounted on his bowtie. It was bright red, but it had a strange white glimmer. I’d learned to spot an Esprit before anyone else. This wasn’t an inexperienced warlock. This one had found his Esprit.
“I’m Tatyana, and these are Dylan and Astrid. It’s a pleasure to meet you,” I replied, mirroring his friendly expression.
“What brings you here?” he asked. He looked at his mother and nodded at the spare seat next to him. Maria sat down next to him, keeping her slightly shaking hands in her lap and her eyes fixed on a random spot on the coffee table in front of them. “Social Services was already here. We’re doing fine.”
“I know, Kenneth. We’re just here to follow up, that’s all. We take great care to make sure that the children we place in foster homes are well looked after,” I said. “Mind if I ask who visited you from Social Services on Wednesday?”
Damian was quiet as a tomb, beads of sweat trickling down his temples. He stared at me with what looked like crippling fear, despite his faint smile. Something was definitely wrong with this picture, and I didn’t want to start trouble without knowing what was wrong.
Kenneth seemed strangely relaxed and cold compared to his foster parents.
“They asked the usual questions. You know, am I being treated well? Am I happy? How is my school life? What’s it like at home? How many meals a day? Yadda, yadda, yadda.” He chuckled. “Everything is okay here. My new mom and dad take great care of me and I, in return, look after them.”
I caught a glimpse of Maria as she gave Kenneth a sideways glance. All of a sudden, I regretted not bringing Harley with us. She could always read a room better than anyone. The perks of being an Empath.
“Mind if my colleagues sit down?” I asked, pointing at the spare two-seater on the other side of the coffee table.
“Oh, by all means, please do,” Kenneth replied, wearing that annoying plastic smile.
I’d met enough people in my life to know when someone was trying to lead me on. Kenneth was still younger than me. He’d yet to fully master the art of deception, but he was definitely well versed in it.
Dylan and Astrid occupied the two-seater, while I remained standing. I moved farther to my left, where the fireplace was. The mantelpiece was loaded with family photos and various trinkets collected mostly from Mexico—I recognized the colorful patterns and designs. The Hellers were eager Mexico vacationers, from what I could tell. They’d taken Kenneth with them, too, judging by the photos, but their postures and smiles were strained in those particular snapshots.
“Can you tell me the names of the Social Services employees who visited you?” I asked, my eyes fixed on a small marble bowl. There was a card there. The symbol was all too familiar. I picked it up between two fingers, then handed it to Dylan.
“Jane and John. But I forget their last names,” Kenneth said. “Nice people, though. Really nice. They gave me a voucher for Wendy’s.”
I nodded slowly, watching Dylan’s expression change as he reached the same conclusion—the Ryders had been here. He showed the Hellers the card. “Cheapskates. Have you spoken to these people?”
Damian frowned and shook his head.
“No,” Maria replied.
“But they were here,” I said.
Maria shrugged. “No, they weren’t. I don’t know where that came from. It doesn’t look familiar to me.”
“Kenneth, have you spoken to anyone named Emily and Emmett Ryder, by any chance? Did they give you this card?” I asked, shifting my focus back to the young magical.
His eyebrows arched upward. “No. That’s strange. I wonder who left that there…”
Maria shot to her feet, suddenly switching into a friendly-housewife-mode. “Would anyone like some horchata? I’ve just made a fresh, whole pitcher.”
“I’d love some, thank you,” I said, smiling.
She nearly flew out of the living room, while I kept my eyes on Kenneth and Damian. Damian couldn’t even look at his foster son. I would’ve given anything to have Harley with us, at that point.
“So, Kenneth, what school are you enrolled in?” I asked.
“Gompers Prep,” he replied. “I love it there. Everyone is nice. I’m on the debate team and on the baseball team! There’s also a girl I like. I’m happy here.”
Ugh, I wasn’t buying it. It was as if he was trying a little too hard to convince me that everything was okay. My stomach was churning, and Dylan didn’t seem convinced, either.
“Have you thought about college yet?” Dylan asked him.
“I’m sorry to interrupt, and sorry to ask,” I interjected, “but is it okay if I use your bathroom?” I giggled, employing the bubblegum-blonde demeanor. That was always a good distraction. “I’ve had too much coffee.”
Kenneth chuckled, then pointed at the hallway. “Sure! It’s right next to the kitchen.”
“Thank you!” I replied, then left the living room behind me and headed straight for the kitchen. I heard muffled voices behind me—Kenneth speaking to Dylan, and Astrid asking something, followed by Kenneth’s answer.
I slipped through the kitchen door and found Maria there, struggling with an horchata pitcher. She was shaking like a leaf.
“Hi,” I whispered. Even so, she was startled and nearly dropped the whole thing. I rushed over to her side and gently removed the pitcher from her trembling h
ands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just—”
“You have to help us!” Maria breathed, her face pale and eyes filled with horror. “Kenneth… There’s something horribly wrong with him.”
“Whoa,” I managed, then put the pitcher down altogether. “What’s wrong?”
“He… He’s lost his mind. I… I don’t know how to explain it. He’s been with us for a year now. And we knew he was… well, different. I have no better word for that. He scared us sometimes, but we managed to get along.”
“What do you mean by ‘different’?” I asked, trying to get her to tell me herself, though I was already suspecting what she was going to say.
“Oh, God, you’re going to think I’m crazy! Listen, there’s something wrong with this boy, and we’ve tried. We really tried, but… we can’t anymore, and we can’t get him out of our lives, either. He’s holding us captive here. You have to help us. Call the police, the National Guard, the Army—whoever can help us, please!”
“Mrs. Heller, take a deep breath,” I replied, keeping my voice low. I could still hear them talking in the living room, which gave me the window I needed to move things along. “Your son is special, isn’t he? As in… not all that human.”
She froze. She knew exactly what I was talking about.
“You’ve seen what he can do?” she croaked.
“Move objects with his mind?” I replied, aiming for the ballpark on this one.
“Listen to me… Listen very carefully. We are not bad people,” she said. “We saw what he could do, and we kept it a secret. We wanted to keep him, to raise him as our son. He could be difficult sometimes, but we managed. It’s true, he scared Damian now and then, but we talked about it. We fixed it. Then, two days ago, those people you asked about came by.”
“The Ryder twins?”
She shook her head. “Jane and John… something. They said they were from Social Services, and that they wanted to talk to Kenneth, so… we gave them some privacy.” Tears streamed down her cheeks. She was close to unraveling completely.
“Then what happened?” I asked, needing to keep her focused while I tried to start devising an action plan. This had the Ryder twins written all over it, despite the fake names.
“I don’t know, but it’s like they flipped a switch in him!” Maria murmured. My heart broke to see her in such a state. It reminded me why it was so important for us to have secrecy and rules, as magicals. There was no better example than this, really. “He went full psycho. We haven’t been able to leave the house in two days. He put something in our food or our drinks… I don’t know what, but when he goes out, we’re paralyzed. We can’t even speak! And when he’s back, he torments us. He curses and beats us,” she added, pulling up her sleeves.
My blood curdled at the sight of her cuts and bruises. Kenneth was downright savage.
“Oh, boy,” I mumbled, feeling the rage course through my veins. “Did he say anything? As to why he’s acting like this?”
She scoffed. “He says there’s a new era coming. That he’s going to be so powerful with Chaos in his favor, that he doesn’t have to try so hard to be nice, that he can do whatever the hell he wants, and that nobody can stop him. He… He says the craziest things. He talks about witches and warlocks, and about how he’ll kill all of them if they don’t get in line, that—”
“That’s quite a loose tongue you have on you, Ma.” Kenneth’s voice cut through the room.
My joints and muscles stiffened, and I realized the worst-case scenario I’d thought of was already happening. Maria yelped as an invisible force threw her backward and over the counter. She slammed into the dinner table, rolled over it, and landed on the marble floor, accompanied by broken glasses and a vase that she’d inadvertently taken with her.
Kenneth stood in the kitchen doorway, his index and middle finger pointed in our direction. The grin on his face sent chills down my spine. The gem on his bowtie sparkled red now. I took a deep breath, trying to get a feel for any spirits that could be hovering nearby. With no one around, I still had my Telekinesis to use against his.
“So, you lied to us,” I remarked, my tone flat.
Kenneth rolled his eyes at me. “Obviously. The Ryders told me you’d be coming soon,” he replied. “I made quite a mess in school, so you were bound to be notified.”
“You know who we are, then.”
He sneered. “Yeah, and I gotta say, not impressed.”
I raised my hand to deliver a mental attack, but he was much faster than I’d expected for a seventeen-year-old. With one flick of his wrist, he had me up against the wall, an invisible force choking the life out of me.
“Son of a—” I grunted, struggling to release myself. “Dukhi, vykhodyat! Dukhi, ty mne nuzhen!” I managed to call out in my native Russian, summoning whatever spirits were in the area. One of them had to hear me. Otherwise I was screwed.
I heard Maria moaning on the other side of the kitchen counter island. I couldn’t see her, but from the sound of crackling glass scratching the floor, I knew she was trying to move.
Kenneth tightened his Telekinetic grip on me, then tossed me across the room and smacked me into another wall. The impact knocked the air out of my lungs. For a second, everything went white.
“Dukhi, vykhodyat!” I cried out. “Dukhi—”
Dylan roared as he tackled Kenneth. Suddenly, I was free. I fell on my knees, coughing and wheezing and relishing each deep breath that I was still able to take. Dylan fought Kenneth like the athlete that he was, pounding him with his fists until blood sprayed out of Kenneth’s nose.
Kenneth wasn’t done, though. He kicked Dylan in the groin and pressed his palm against Dylan’s forehead. My arms were weak. I could barely move.
“Magicis, ecce ego bestia tua!” Kenneth chanted.
“Oh, no,” I murmured.
Latin spells in the hands of a psycho like Kenneth Willow were never good.
Dylan’s eyes lit up yellow as he stilled. His strange gaze found mine, and I knew, at that moment, that I was officially and royally screwed. That was some old school hexing that Kenneth had whipped out. The kind that we’d learned was forbidden for being lethal.
Kenneth snickered and nudged Dylan to the side. Fear crippled me as I realized what was going on. Dylan growled like an animal, baring his teeth at me. His yellow eyes seemed slightly bigger, red veins popping around the eyelids.
“Yeah, so. I’ll let this mutt take care of you,” Kenneth said. “Enjoy the remaining thirty seconds of your life, witch!”
“Kenneth, don’t do this!” I snapped. “Whatever the Ryders told you, it’s not true.”
I managed to slowly get up as Dylan moved closer. He wasn’t himself anymore. He’d been turned into a mindless beast, and he was about to pounce and tear me apart.
“I’ll be late for my appointment if I waste another minute here and, well, serving a future Child of Chaos does require some punctuality. Don’t want to make a bad impression.”
“Kenneth, don’t!” I shouted after him, but he was already on the run, dashing toward the kitchen back door that led into the yard.
I launched a mental lasso at him, catching his ankle, and snapped him back. He fell flat on his face, groaning from the pain, and I managed to drag him back several feet before Dylan came at me. I had no choice. I had to let Kenneth go.
I focused my Telekinetic ability on Dylan instead. I pushed a barrier out, forcing him back as he grunted and snarled, clawing at the invisible shield.
Kenneth chuckled as he slipped out the back door.
I was so angry and distraught, I couldn’t even focus properly. Seeing Dylan like that filled me with dread, mainly because I had no idea how to subdue him. He was insanely strong already as a magical, but this hexed-beast-mode made him even worse.
He broke through my mental barrier and lunged at me. I dodged and jumped to the side, just as Dylan crashed into the kitchen counter.
“Dammit, Dylan!” I called out to him, t
he real him, stuck somewhere inside his cursed head. “Dylan, I know you can hear me! You have to fight it!”
Dylan pulled himself away from the broken counter and came at me again. I tried to push him away with my Telekinesis, but he was too fast.
Before I could do anything else, he had me up against the wall, his hand gripping my throat and crushing my trachea.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I croaked, struggling to breathe again. There was definitely a pattern in this scene, and it involved me getting choked to death.
I would’ve been the biggest embarrassment of the Vasilis clan if I let myself go down like that. My parents weren’t even going to bother with a tombstone for my sorry ass.
The worst part was that I couldn’t bring myself to kill Dylan. I could reach out and perform the worst act that a Kolduny could do. I could rip the spirit from his body—but that would not only take a dark toll on my own soul, it would also remove Dylan from this world.
A voice in my head begged me not to do it, and I couldn’t understand why. In any other circumstance, I would’ve resorted to udaleniye dukkha, or “spirit removal,” but I just… I can’t.
“Dylan… Please,” I tried again, my eyes rolling back. I was about to pass out. “Don’t make me do this… Please, fight it!”
He tightened his grip on my throat. Everything went white again.
I summoned the last droplet of energy I had left, to do the unthinkable. My survival instinct had kicked in, and I could no longer ignore it, at the same time hating myself for having to do this.
Then I heard a loud clang.
A second later, I was on the floor, slumped on my side, coughing and wheezing once more. I blinked rapidly until I could see clearly again, holding my bruised throat. My skin burned where Dylan had gripped me.
Dylan was unconscious, lying on his back just a couple of feet away. Maria stood in front of us, panting, with a bleeding gash on her forehead. She firmly held a large frying pan in her hands. She’d smacked Dylan over the head with it.
Astrid rushed into the kitchen. She’d been assaulted, too, from the looks of her. Her lip was split and bleeding, and there were several small cuts on the side of her face.
Harley Merlin 2: Harley Merlin and the Mystery Twins Page 9