Moon Magic

by Madeline Freeman

  Elliot offers a tight smile and a nod. “Krissa. You’re looking well.”

  I back toward the door. “This was a bad idea.”

  Anya reaches toward me. “Don’t go. Clearly you need something—and you’re probably pretty desperate, since you’re here. Let me help you.”

  I shake my head. “I don’t want to say anything in front of him.”

  Anya tsks. “I know your history with Elliot is… Well, it’s even more complicated than your history with me. And I’ll ask him to leave if you really want me to. Maybe this won’t mean much to you, but I trust him. If you’re here, it’s because you think I can help in a way that other people can’t. Elliot might be able to help, too.”

  I open my mouth, ready to tell her to make Elliot leave, but something she said gives me pause. Is she right? Could Elliot know something that could help? I’m here because I know Anya has information about magic that reaches outside of Clearwater. It’s possible Elliot may, too. I blow out a breath. “He can stay. But it doesn’t mean I trust him.”

  “You say the sweetest things,” Elliot says, complete with eye roll.

  I don’t bother responding. It doesn’t really matter what he thinks, and I have no interest in stroking his ego.

  “Shall we sit?” Anya asks, leading the way to her couch.

  I sit at the far end, hoping Elliot takes my lead. When he settles on the other end, I’m only slightly more at ease. “Something happened at Crystal’s house. I’m worried, and I thought you might have information that could help.” I quickly describe Brody and the things he said. As I speak, a line of worry etches itself between Anya’s eyebrows. This is the first time she’s ever seemed old to me. I know she has to be in her thirties, and by the time I’m done speaking, every one of those years is evident on her face. “Do you know who this guy is or what he could want?”

  Anya shakes her head. “And that’s what scares me. As far as I know, the only ones who knew about Seth—about anything that happened in Clearwater—were the Devoted who left town before the elder council wiped everyone’s memories of magic. This is the first I’ve heard that there was another group who escaped. And as for what their interest in Bess might be, I’ve got no idea.”

  The bubble of hope I’ve been clinging to pops. Anya was my best chance at figuring out who this guy is and who he represents. Since she doesn’t know, I’ll have to split my time between researching a way to help Crystal get whatever information they want and figuring out who this group is and just how dangerous they are. “Well, it was worth a try.” I stand. “If you can think of anything, let me—”

  “Wait,” Elliot says.

  I pause, but he doesn’t continue. I glance at Anya, who in turn looks at Elliot.

  “Do you know something?” Anya asks.

  Elliot presses his lips together in a tight line. The angles of his face seem to sharpen with concentration. “I’m not sure.” He looks up at me. “Describe this Brody guy to me. Was there anything strange about him?”

  “Besides the obvious?” I ask, slightly irritated. Does he actually know something? Or does he want this information for another reason? Part of me wants to ignore his question, but Anya is encouraging me with her eyes to go on. Sighing, I replay the scene in Crystal’s living room over in my head. I already told them almost word for word what he said. But there was one other thing that I noticed about him, something I haven’t mentioned yet. “He had a tattoo. Only it wasn’t like a normal tattoo. It almost… It kind of seemed to glisten, like maybe it was new? Like maybe he kept ointment on it or something.” I’m doing my best to describe it, but even that explanation doesn’t exactly cover what it looked like.

  Elliot straightens. “What was it a tattoo of?”

  “Something red. A flower, maybe?”

  Anya scrutinizes Elliot’s face. “Does this mean something to you?”

  “Maybe. I wasn’t sure, but if you’re right about the tattoo…” He shakes his head. “If you’re dealing with who I think you’re dealing with, it’s not good.”

  My muscles tighten. I already had that sense, but there’s something in the way Elliot says it that makes me even less at ease. The Devoted were a group committed to doing anything—including torture—to get what they wanted. Is the look on his face is any indication, this guy and the people he represents are even worse. “Who are they?”

  He shakes his head, seeming to doubt himself. “I kind of figured they were just a story—something parents made up to keep their kids in line. They’re called the Amaranthine. They didn’t want to wait around for Seth, and I think I remember hearing that they thought someone else was more important. I always figured they meant someone with more power than Seth, which I always thought was impossible. So I guess it makes sense that it’s information that they’re after, not magic.”

  “What do they want?” Anya asks.

  “Immortality,” he says, his tone indicating he doesn’t quite believe it. “My guess is they think Bess Taylor knew something about it.” He looks at me. “Does Crystal know anything?”

  I shake my head. “Not according to her. But I get the feeling they’re not going to take no for an answer.”

  “I think you’re right about that. If the stories are true, the Amaranthine are ruthless.” He offers a grim smile. “My uncle Nate was a few years older than me, and when he’d watch me when my parents were out, I’d beg him to tell me stories about them. I figured he was making them all up, but maybe there was a grain of truth to them after all. He told me how they’d suck the life force out of people who crossed them. He said they had an assassin who did their dirty work, who’d kill people as a warning to others.”

  “If what you’re saying is even a little true, there’s no way they’re going to leave Crystal alone until they get what they want.” Anya turns to me, reaching out like she’s going to place her hand on mine. At the last moment, she retracts it and rubs the back of her neck instead.

  “I already figured that,” I murmur. I had no reason to doubt Brody’s resolve at Crystal’s house, and despite my bravado when I threatened to end him, I’m afraid. Learning what Elliot knows doesn’t ease that fear in the least.

  Anya’s face tightens. “I’ll help any way I can.”

  “Thanks,” I say too quickly. Although I can’t imagine what she might get from offering assistance, I assume she’s not being entirely altruistic. Or maybe she is. The idea that Anya might honestly be that kindhearted makes my stomach twist. How can she be so nice to me after how I’ve treated her since her arrival? “I’ll let you know if I need anything.” I pull my phone from my back pocket and pretend to check the time. “I have to get going.”

  Without waiting for a formal goodbye, I walk to the door, waving as I let myself out. Anya stands like she wants to say something more, but I close the door before she can.

  As much as this new insight into the Amaranthine frightens me, it also lights a fire in the pit of my stomach. These people really are as dangerous as I assumed. I went to Crystal’s house today hoping simply to help her and Dana come to terms with their lives as they are now, without full use of the abilities they’d come to rely on. But now my mission is more than that—more important and more dangerous.

  If I can keep Crystal safe from the Amaranthine, maybe that act can in some way wash off some of the blood on my hands. If I can do some good, maybe there’s still hope for me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Sasha

  I hear the impatient chirping of my cell phone as soon as I cut the water off in the shower. I sigh as I reach for the towel. Without looking, I know who the message is from. It’s Elliot. It’s always from Elliot.

  By the time I towel my hair to the point that it’s no longer dripping, my phone has chirped twice more. I hastily wrap the sodden cloth around my body. Elliot is not often the kind of guy who sends multiple texts. He understands I’ll get to them when I have time. The fact that he’s sending several messages can only mean something is wrong. I supp
ose there’s an off chance some of the messages are from Anya, but I don’t think we’re at texting level in our relationship yet.

  I scoop the phone off the edge of the sink and unlock the screen. Four texts from Elliot.

  Are you home?

  I’m coming over.

  Are you ignoring me?

  If you’re not home when I get there, I’ll just wait until you get back.

  It’s the last message that puts a little hurry in my step. According to the timestamp, he sent it three minutes ago. Depending on where he’s coming from, he may already be parked and on his way up the stairs. Elliot doesn’t have a key, but that won’t stop him from entering. One of the first tasks he mastered when his abilities manifested was manipulating the tumblers in a lock with telekinesis. Although we’re close, I have no interest in him walking in on me in my state of undress.

  I ease out of the cramped bathroom and start for my slightly less cramped bedroom. There was little more than a mattress on the floor when I moved in. I wanted to keep the bed, of course—after all, Seth had slept here when this was his place. But it immediately became clear it was secondhand, probably something he found on the side of the road. He hadn’t had the full measure of his abilities when he first arrived in Clearwater, so it wasn’t exactly as if he could have used magic or psychic abilities to procure something better. So, the bed that’s in here now is new, but I was sure to put it in the same position Seth’s had been. I’ve also added a small nightstand. My clothes hang in the small closet. There’s not much room, but anything is better than living out of a duffel bag, which is exactly what Elliot and I had been doing since we arrived in Clearwater.

  I grab a T-shirt and a pair of jeans and pull them on, all the while straining my ears to detect an intrusion. It strikes me only as I’m pulling on a pair of socks that I haven’t sent Elliot a response. Maybe an in-person visit isn’t necessary. I’ve just opened the message app when a staccato knock sounds on the apartment door. Too late.

  By the time I’ve made it into the living room, Elliot’s already got the door open. His face is tight, the way it is when he’s angry. What’s happened? Why does he look so mad? I open my mouth to ask, but he’s speaking before I can get the words out.

  “I just came from your sister’s place.”

  I haven’t spoken to Anya in a few days, so I can’t have done something to offend her. Unless it’s the not talking to her that’s the offense. But would Elliot really be so mad about such a slight? Would my lack of communication with my sister etch such angry lines into his face? “Yeah, I was going to call her later tonight.”

  He shakes his head. So that’s not why he’s so upset. He presses his lips together and inhales, nostrils flaring. “Krissa Barnette showed up. Do you have any idea why?” He tilts his head, squinting at me. Something in the way he does it tells me he thinks I should know. And I do have an inkling, but I’m not willing to give anything away. When I don’t say anything, he continues. “Seems she was at Crystal Jamison’s house when a guy showed up. He was asking questions about Bess Taylor. Had a red flower tattoo.”

  I do my best not to shrink under the intensity of his stare. “Oh?” I ask, trying to keep my voice innocent.

  Elliot fists his hand as he stalks toward me. “Dammit, Sasha. Don’t pretend like you don’t know exactly what I’m talking about. The Amaranthine, Sasha? Are you serious? How can you be so stupid?”

  I’ve dealt with Elliot’s temper too many times in the past to be afraid he’ll do anything with that fist, but that doesn’t stop me from tensing as he comes closer. “Elliot…”

  He shakes his head, holding his hand up to cut me off. “Don’t even try to lie. What, you think I’m stupid enough to believe it’s a coincidence that days after you find out about Crystal’s possession the Amaranthine show up? Newsflash, I’m not. What are you thinking? What are you hoping to accomplish? You’ve heard the same stories I have. The Amaranthine are not the kind of people you mess with. I don’t know what your angle is here, but you’re going to end up getting yourself hurt.”

  I shake my head. “They won’t hurt me. I’m the one who told him where to find the information they’ve been looking for.”

  Elliot curses under his breath. His expression clouds and I wonder if he wasn’t secretly hoping I’d disagree with his assertions. “You can’t trust them. What if Crystal can’t give them the information they want? Have you thought about that? They could hurt her or her family—probably both. That’s what you get for crossing the Amaranthine.”

  I roll my eyes, pivoting on my heel and crossing to the couch. “Well, then, I hope she doesn’t let them down,” I say, flopping onto the cushions.

  Elliot stalks after me and sits at my side. “Do you think they’ll stop at her? You’re the one who contacted them. If they think you’re just wasting their time, they could come after you. You and me and Anya. Have you thought about that?”

  Indeed, I’ve considered this. It’s a risk, sure, but a calculated one. I reached out in good faith. That has to count for something. If I can keep Brody’s trust, it’s possible that if things go south I can convince him Crystal is holding out. If I can stay in his good graces, with all likelihood he won’t come after me. “They won’t hurt us. And if they hurt Crystal, who cares?”

  Elliot throws up his hands. “Do you hear yourself right now? What could you possibly be getting out of this? Why on earth would you bring these people here? Have you thought about the other consequences? What if they don’t stop with Crystal? What if they’re able to sense how much magic is here and they try to do something in the town?”

  I snort. “Then I guess Krissa and her friends will have to save Clearwater again.”

  “And they might die in the process.” Elliot’s eyebrows draw together. “But you’ve already thought about that, haven’t you?” He scrutinizes my face, and for a moment I wonder if he’s probing me. There was a time a few years back that I tried to have him teach me to recognize a psychic intrusion, but no matter how many times we practiced, I never could. After a few seconds, Elliot shakes his head. “That’s what this is all about, isn’t it? You’re hoping the Amaranthine don’t get what they want and rain down fire on Krissa and the circle, don’t you?”

  The way he says it makes me feel like a foolish child. I don’t like that he has that power over me. I cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes. “And what if I do?”

  He rubs a hand over his face. “Sasha…”

  “What?” I can’t stand the way he’s looking at me. Like he pities me.

  A muscle in his jaw works, like he’s carefully considering just which words to use. He’s quiet for several seconds before deciding on the right ones. “I thought you’d moved on.” His voice is quiet, like we’re sharing secrets. “When Anya told me you’d made contact, I really hoped it was because you were ready to start a new life. I wouldn’t even let myself consider that you might have some ulterior motives.” He closes his eyes and shakes his head. “But you did, didn’t you?”

  The pity in his tone makes my blood boil. Where does he get off feeling sorry for me? I’m not the one in the wrong here. But of course, that’s exactly what Elliot wants to make me think. He’s always been great at that—twisting a situation to make someone else feel guilty. I think since he’s psychic he knows exactly what buttons to push. But I refuse to let him. “You sit there like you’re all disappointed in me, but let me clue you in on something—I’m the one who’s disappointed in you. How can you give up so easily? Our parents died for their devotion. It would’ve been worth it if Seth had lived, but he didn’t. It’s because of those people he’s dead. So, yes. I don’t care if the Amaranthine hurt Crystal Jamison or the precious Krissa Barnette. In fact, I hope they do.”

  Elliot springs up from the couch as if he’s been electrified and begins pacing. “It’s over, Sasha. We lost the war. It’s time to get used to the new world order. Yes, our parents are dead. Why do you think I reconnected with Anya so quickly
? Why do you think I was so happy when I thought you were doing the same?” He lifts a hand and rubs the back of his neck. “You know she’s responsible for it, too, right? She had a vision that Seth wasn’t all we thought, and she also saw that he would be defeated. Instead of ignoring that, she left. She found Ben Barnette. She sided with Krissa’s circle. So if the Amaranthine decide to take revenge on the people connected with Crystal, has it occurred to you your sister might be among the casualties?”

  I clench my jaw, grinding my teeth together. Of course that’s crossed my mind. And, if I’m honest, if something happens to Anya, I won’t cry over it. I’d feel bad because she clearly means something to Elliot still, but that would be the end of it. But I can’t tell him that. “They won’t hurt us.”

  He glares at me. “Do you have their word on that? A contract? Or is it just a warm, fuzzy feeling?”

  I throw up my hands. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not sorry for what I’ve done. At least I am doing something. I’m trying to avenge Seth’s death. Why can’t you see that? I thought you of all people would get it. But I guess I was wrong.” I stand, cutting into his path as he paces. I clutch his shoulders and narrow my eyes. “You can’t tell anyone I’m involved.”

  “I have to. I don’t think you understand the danger we’re all in.”

  “So, what? Let me guess: You’re going to run to Anya. And what do you think she’ll do exactly? Even if she’s able to find my contact in the Amaranthine, do you really think he’s just going to leave because she asks him to? You know what I promised them. And if the stories we’ve heard are any indication, he’s not going to leave just because we ask nicely.”