Spellbound (the Spellbound Series Book 1)

by Rene Lanausse

  We sit in near silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company, until Nick asks, “Do you think it will always be like this?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, getting to see each other almost every day, taking walks, going out to dinner once in a while… we have a pretty good thing going here.”

  “Yeah, we do.”

  “But what do we call it?”

  I almost tell him that it’s called a relationship, but I realize before I open my mouth that it’s not technically a relationship yet. He’s asking me if I want us to be official. In response, I say, “That depends. Do you think you can handle being my boyfriend?”

  “Yes, I think I can manage that.”

  “Then we call it the best damned relationship that anyone’s ever seen.” He’s smiling, that amazing smile that I look forward to seeing every day, and I lean in for a kiss. Nick’s lips pass over my mouth, though, and find the nape of my neck instead. I never knew my body had a weak spot until now; the moment his lips make contact, and with every kiss he leaves thereafter, a pleasurable shiver runs all the way down my spine. I don’t object, so he continues until I hear something that sounds like bone scraping against bone from within Nick’s mouth, and he pulls away, covering the lower half of his face with one hand. I pull back as well, and ask, “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so sorry…”

  “Nick, lower your hands.”

  He does as I say, and I finally get to see his fangs. Unlike the fangs of the only other vampires I’ve seen, they’re perfectly white, just like the rest of his teeth. They’re two inches long and frighteningly sharp, curved ever so slightly inward so that he can’t slice open his lip unless he tries to. He covers his mouth again, and says, “Sorry, they kinda come out on their own when I get… excited.”

  Once the meaning of his statement sinks in, I practically fall off of the bench from laughing too hard. “Don’t be sorry,” I say through bursts of laughter, “it’s not so bad. At least it’s not that other thing that pops out.”

  “That happens too…”

  “How? No offense, but… you’re dead.”

  Nick laughs, and retracts his fangs before speaking again. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

  “That doesn’t answer my question.”

  “I’d prefer not to question it. We should both just be glad that everything down there is still working.”

  Now that our conversation has turned to Nick’s reproductive organs, I’m blushing slightly. I’m happy to have finally had my first kiss, I’m not quite ready to consider experiencing anything else for the first time. Nick seems to sense that, and we sit in comfortable silence for a while, with my head on his shoulder. It starts getting really late, so we decide to walk across town to my apartment. As we say goodnight, and Nick kisses me on the forehead, I can’t help but think that I couldn’t have asked for a better boyfriend.

  Part Two: The Guardians

  Chapter 11

  In the months leading up to my birthday, I notice that my body is slowly changing. I remember being fairly scrawny back in January; now, when I look in the mirror, I see that I’m starting to develop muscles in places that I can’t remember having used before. What’s more, my hips are getting slightly wider, and I’ve gone up a cup size. I’m never sure whether the sudden growth spurt is a side effect of my awakening, or if I’m in the final stages of puberty, but whatever the cause, I imagine Nick is enjoying the effects. I’m just a tiny bit concerned, though; I might end up needing to shop for new clothes soon, with money that I don’t have.

  Even though it’s possibly causing me to grow in unwanted ways, I’m happy with my progress. After the first few weeks of intense training sessions, I began to enjoy pushing myself further, and blazing through every challenge Krystal gave me. I learned every spell she taught me in record time, and memorized several different uses for each spell. At the end of each week, Krystal and I have a sparring match on the rooftop, to see how much I’ve retained from previous lessons. More often than not, I end up with several burns and scrapes while Krystal walks away without a scratch. However, recently, I’ve managed to break through her defenses a few times, and given her a taste of her own medicine. I think we’re both impressed by how far I’ve come in only four months.

  In spite of how well I’ve been doing, I still don’t have a clear picture of exactly why I’ve been training so hard. The week before my birthday, Krystal lets me know that it involves going away for a few days. Oddly enough, she also tells me not to pack anything; apparently, I’ll be able to find everything I need when I get there, wherever there is. I want to know where it is I’m going, but refrain from asking; things with her are always on a need-to-know basis, and while it’s aggravating, I have no choice but to put my trust in her for now.

  It occurs to me that my mom might not be alright with the idea of letting me out of her sight for a few days. She barely sees me as it is; between school, training, and the occasional date with Nick, there are times when I forget where I call home. That realization makes me feel like a poor excuse for a daughter, especially since she still doesn’t know I’m a spellcaster. I decide that instead of coming up with an elaborate lie, I should tell my mom the truth; I’d always meant to, anyway, but starting a conversation about how you spend every weekday training to become a badass warrior with magical powers is even harder than it sounds.

  When I get home that night, and we both sit down for dinner, I quietly poke at my mashed potatoes while trying to come up with a way to start this conversation. I can’t think of the right thing to say after five minutes, but surprisingly, it’s my mom who starts us off. She pushes her plate to the side, and asks, “You alright, Heather? Are you fighting with your boyfriend or something?”

  I freeze when she says boyfriend; how could she possibly know about Nick? My mom smiles, and says, “You’re too easy to catch in a lie, kid. I called Rachel’s mom a few of the times you were out late, and she said she hasn’t seen you in months. And the nosy old man on the first floor says he constantly sees you outside with some boy.”

  Well, shit. I guess I should have known better than to say goodnight to Nick anywhere near that guy’s window. “Yeah,” I mutter, “I have a boyfriend… but that’s not even why I’m always home late.”

  “Oh really? What else is going on?”

  It takes me a while, but I explain to my mom about my powers, how I’ve been honing my skills with Krystal since January, and that I’m being called away and she won’t be seeing me for a few days. She listens quietly with her hands folded in front of her mouth, but when I’m done, she asks, “How am I supposed to believe any of what you just told me?”

  I roll my eyes, and hold out my hand with my palm facing up. With just the slightest effort, a tiny ball of flames bursts into life just inches above my palm. It quickly swells to the size of a baseball, and I make it zoom around the kitchen in circles for a while, before landing it safely back in my palm, where I close my fingers around the ball, and it vanishes with a puff of smoke. “That’s how,” I say. “Convinced that your daughter is a freak now?”

  My mom looks at me like she’s seen a ghost; all the color has drained out of her face, and her lips are drawn in a tight line. She shakes her head, and mutters, “I don’t believe it…”

  “If it makes you feel any better, I’m still completely human. I’m just one of the few that knows how to use the power locked inside me.”

  “How long has this been going on?”

  “Only a few months.”

  “And does your boyfriend know? Is he like you?”

  “Not exactly…” I’d been hoping to avoid discussing this part today, but telling my mom the whole truth now would be better than letting her find out from someone else. “Nick isn’t like me at all, mom. He’s kinda sort of a vampire.”

  “A vampire…” My mom sits back, and says, “Well, Jesus. Please tell me he doesn’t sparkle.”

&nbs
p; “Nope, Nick is sparkle-free.” I can’t believe my mom is taking my life’s newfound weirdness so well. I’d half-expected her to freak out and tell me to break up with him, but she’s being shockingly cavalier. In fact, she seemed more bothered by the revelation that I was a spellcaster. Just to make sure, I ask, “Is that alright with you, though? Me dating a vampire, I mean.”

  “As long as he treats you right, then it’s fine with me. God knows, I’ve dated stranger.” I’m curious about the meaning behind the last part of my mom’s response, but it’s all I can do to contain my relief; I’d have kept dating Nick without my mom’s consent, but it’s good to know that she isn’t against it. Then, my mom smiles at me in a way that makes me wish I’d kept my mouth shut, and it completely kills the mood. “But… if you want to continue dating him, and if you want to go on this trip to who knows where, there’s something you have to do for me.”

  “Oh dear God, what?”

  “Bring him over for dinner next week.”

  Dammit, dammit, dammit. My mom and I both know that after four months of hiding things from her, I can’t possibly refuse her demands. I sigh, and ask, “What day?”

  “The 18th.”

  “Fine.”

  “Fine!”

  And that is how it comes to be that the night before my eighteenth birthday, right after training with Krystal, Nick and I wind up in my apartment, sitting two feet apart on the couch while my mom cooks dinner. Nick doesn’t seem to be nervous at all; in fact, he’s as calm as I’ve ever seen him. I, on the other hand, am anxiety incarnate. My mom calls me into the kitchen to stir the boiling noodles while she grabs something out of the cabinet, and when I look into the pot, I realize it’s a lot of food for just two people. When I ask her about it, she says, “I’m making enough for Nick, too.”

  I check that Nick is alright in the living room, then whisper to my mom, “But… he can’t eat solid food.”

  She whispers back, “So? I want him to feel welcome.”

  “If you wanted him to feel welcome, you should have picked up a bottle of O Positive from Stop & Shop.”

  My mom places a large container of oregano on the counter next to the stove, and asks, “Do you want me to continue being okay with you two dating?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then please, let me at least pretend he’s alive.”

  It seems to take an exceptionally awkward version of forever for dinner to be ready, and when we finally all sit at the table, Nick gazes longingly at our plates. Making baked ziti may have been the worst possible idea. I’m too nervous to make decent conversation, so I sit back and nibble on my food while my mom issues the apparently standard parent-boyfriend interrogation.

  Mom: “So, Nick, are you in school?”

  Nick: “Actually no, I’m working at the moment.”

  Mom: “What do you do?”

  Nick: “I’m doing research into creating synthetic blood, so that-”

  Me: “Nick… We talked about this.”

  Nick: “Well, if you want to get technical, I’m a barista.”

  Mom: “That’s cool. I’d say I recognize you, but I haven’t set foot in Starbucks in a year or two. Heather and I are more hot chocolate kind of people.”

  Nick: “We serve that too. It’s actually not half bad.”

  Mom: “Is it the same price as the stuff at Dunkin Donuts?”

  Nick: “Well...”

  With every sentence that comes out of my mom’s mouth, I sink lower and lower into my seat. If I tried, I could probably cut through the awkward in the room with a butterknife. I’m actually glad that I won’t be seeing her for a while; I’ll have time to get over the embarrassment without her pestering me with questions about my boyfriend.

  Finally, we finish our food, which means it’s time for us to go. Krystal said we’re leaving around midnight, so I’m accompanying Nick back home to meet up with her. I hug my mom, and say, “I’ll see you soon, alright?”

  “Okay, be careful.” My mom gives me a super tight hug, then moves on to hug Nick as well. “It was lovely having you over, Nick. You’re welcome any time.”

  “Thanks! It was a pleasure meeting you, Ms. Santos.”

  “The same to you, Nick. And you can call me Regina.”

  “Alright then. Goodnight, Regina.”

  “Goodnight!”

  After what seems like an excruciatingly long time, we’re finally on our way to Nick’s place. No matter how many times we walk near Central Park, it never fails to amaze me how it looks significantly more sinister in the dark. That could be more because of the rumors than anything else, but there is still a malicious aura about the park at night, an aura that seems more prominent than usual tonight. As we come near it, my fingers grip Nick’s slightly tighter than usual, and he squeezes harder in response.

  When we walk through Nick’s door, Krystal and Landon are sitting on the couch, watching a Lifetime movie. It’s probably not an uncommon sight for Nick, but I don’t know what to make of it; I’m more used to Krystal herding me onto the roof so we can train, and Landon rushing out the door, or painting by the window overlooking Central Park. Seeing either of them relaxing on the couch almost feels like an intrusion.

  Nick and I join them, since there’s not much else to do, and by the time the movie’s over, it’s about half an hour to midnight. Landon gives me a huge hug, and wishes me luck, then heads off to his room for the night. Then Nick wraps his arms around me, and whispers, “See you soon,” before brushing his lips against mine. He plants an extra kiss on my forehead, and I plant a tiny kiss on his cheek before he pulls away.

  It’s finally time for us to go. Krystal checks her watch impatiently, and asks, “Ready?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  Krystal grabs my wrist, and waves to Nick, who waves back. I raise my hand to do the same, but everything goes dark before I can complete the gesture. I feel myself being dragged by some powerful force for an instant, and when I feel I’ve become stationary again, I know we’ve left the condo far behind. My eyes adjust quickly to the darkness, and I see nothing but palm trees silhouetted in the moonlight, and a paved road heading downwards. I turn to Krystal, and ask, “Where are we?”

  She shushes me, and whispers, “Not so loud, are you trying to get us caught?”

  “Sorry, I just think I’m entitled to some answers now.”

  “Puerto Rico. Happy? Now be quiet and follow me.”

  We make our way quickly and quietly down the sloping road. I can’t tell whether to be relieved by, or suspicious about, this turn of events; would Krystal really be so kind as to take me on a vacation to Puerto Rico? Or should I be worried that this is some horrible test? Krystal offers no answers until we get to the end of the road, which almost runs all the way into a cave. “This is Cueva Clara,” she says, “a naturally occurring cave in Puerto Rico. It’s become sort of a tourist attraction, so I figured there might be guards. That’s why we had to be quiet.”

  “Okay, but… why are we here?”

  “You’ll see. Come on.” Krystal conjures a ball of light from the palm of her hand, and holds it in front of us as we make our way through the cave. There’s a rusty railing and several signs throughout, but even so, the layout of the cave is confusing. At first, I think I’m imagining the moisture in the air, but within minutes of walking, my shirt is clinging to my body, my hair plastered to my forehead. I want very badly to ask if we can go home, but I know I have no choice but to go along with whatever Krystal’s got planned.

  We walk through a miniature maze within the cave, and come upon a rock structure that looks vaguely like a smiling old woman somewhere in the middle of it. Krystal stops here, and says, “This is La Bruja, or, The Witch. The rock is naturally shaped like that, but several clans use this structure for the brief ritual we’re doing here tonight.”

  I stand by, and just listen; I’ve given up on trying to get answers out of her. Krystal’s hand begins to glow
with a pale green light, which transfers to the rock when she touches it. The light spreads across the surface of the stone, until The Witch almost looks alive; green orbs appear where her eyes should be, her smile seems to have gotten wider, and her “skin” softly radiates with the energy flowing through it. Krystal urges me to get closer and touch The Witch’s forehead, which I’d really rather not do. As I creep closer, the rock’s glowing eyes appear to follow me, and her smile becomes more of a grimace as we come face to face. I place my hand over The Witch’s forehead, and for a moment, nothing happens. Then, the world goes pitch black, my feet leave the ground, and I could swear, I hear a soft cackling just before the wind rushing by my ears becomes a deafening roar.

  Chapter 12

  I can’t tell if I’m flying, or falling, or standing perfectly still, but when my feet touch the ground, my ankles give out, and I fall forward onto a bed of grass and fallen leaves. It’s too dark to see anything at all, so I perform the same light spell that Krystal used just a few minutes ago, and a slightly dimmer ball of light appears. The sudden brightness is blindingly painful for a split second, but my eyes adjust quickly, and I notice that I’m surrounded by trees. A few seconds after using the spell, I hear a familiar voice cry out, “Holy shit, that’s bright! Mind not shining that thing in my face?”

  I move the ball of light high above my head, and see someone with purple hair standing about ten feet away. “Alyssa? Is that you?”

  She starts at the sound of her name, and squints at me. “Santos? How the hell did you get here?”

  I push myself off the ground, and start to wipe the leaves off of my shirt. “I touched a weird rock shaped like a witch, and wound up here, somehow. You?”

  “It was a painting of a witch for me. Happy birthday, by the way.”