Mom had taken off hours ago for another of her clubs, surprise surprise. I pause just long enough to text her that I was hanging out with Sebastian, before locking up and head over to the twins’ place.
Parking on the street out front, I walk around to the cottage and knock on the door.
“It’s open!” one of the twins, probably Jared, yells. I shake my head and let myself in. Jared’s lounging on the couch in black sweat pants and a dark blue Henley, his right foot propped up on the coffee table, wrapped in an air cast. His hair is twisted up in a man bun.
“Bout time you showed up Pixie, you’re supposed to be entertaining me.” He smirks, motioning me to join him on the couch.
“So sorry, your Majesty. I was unavoidably detained,” I snark, settling on the opposite end of the couch. “Besides, it’s Ian’s day to amuse you.”
“You don’t have to sit so far away. I don’t have cooties,” he grins, motioning for me to move closer.
Laughing, I shake my head, “Oh no, I’m good over here. You can’t guarantee your bad luck isn’t contagious.”
“Whatever,” he rolls his eyes and stretches out. “And Ian ditched me to go finish his research before taking off to cover the rest of Clay’s shift. So I’ve been bored and lonely for hours.”
“You have a TV, cable and a million games. I’m quite sure you were capable of amusing yourself,” I shoot back, sticking my tongue out at him. “Where do Ian and Clay work, anyways?”
“S.A.S.S. of course,” Jared replies. “The three of us work part time in the office. Now, what was so important that you weren’t here to entertain me?”
“Books, of course,” I grin. “I was reading a series where the author ended every book with a cliffhanger. Luckily the series was complete and the story good enough that I wanted to keep reading. Normally, a cliffhanger is the kiss of death for me. I just lost track of time.”
“What were they about? Start at the beginning and tell me everything,” he commands. I open my mouth to protest, when the door swings open. Ian comes in followed by the rest of the guys. Oh thank God, saved by the bell.
“Thanks for your help, guys,” Samil says sarcastically, trailing in last with a stack of pizzas boxes balanced in his arms.
“Hey you had it covered,” Clayton grins, heading to the mini kitchen. Jared moves his foot off the coffee table and Samil manages to put down the pizzas without dropping any. Sebastian starts flipping open boxes, grabbing a couple pieces from each. Ian returns with three cokes, offering me one before passing one to Jared.
“Better grab some pizza now, Trouble, before it’s all gone.” Clayton warns, coming around the couch and handing me a plate. I grab a couple slices and sit down next to Jared. He snags a piece from me and I turn to glare at him.
“Hey! Don’t be stealing my food,” I growl, resisting the urge to whack him upside the head. He’s lucky he’s already injured… Be nice, be nice, be nice… “Do you need me to fix you a plate, your Majesty?”
“Nah, Ian’s got me covered, Pixie,” he winks, taking a bit from his stolen slice. I roll my eyes and twist away from him to focus on the other guys. My eyes widen as I take in the way they piled their plates. How the hell can they eat so much and still look the way they do? Now, that’s GOT to be magic.
“So how did tryouts go? Do they tell you who made the team on the spot? Or do you have to wait?” I ask, as Ian passes Jared a plate before sinking into the cushion on the other side of me.
“We’ll hear something next week. And it was the usual bullshit,” Samil grumbles, taking his spot in the arm chair. Raising an eyebrow, I glance around at the others.
“Okies… What does that mean?” I finally ask when it becomes clear he’s not going to volunteer anything else.
“Some jackass thought it would be funny to shove Sebastian in the janitor’s closet and lock him in,” Clayton grumbles, his forest green aura flashing with streaks of red.
“What the fuck?” I snap, glancing over at where Sebastian’s perched on the arm of the couch. He shrugs, not looking up from his plate. “Bast?”
“It’s no big deal, Sprite,” Sebastian says, finally meeting my eye. “Clay and Samil got me out before tryouts started. There’s always some freshman or new kid that wants on the team and thinks we’re easy targets. They’ll get over it after we beat their asses on the ice a couple times. Nothing to worry about.”
“That’s still shitty,” I growl. No longer hungry, I toss my plate down on the table.
“Unfortunately, that’s life on a small island for you, Pixie,” Jared says between bites. “Bast’s right though, we’ll take care of it. Nothing for you to worry about.”
I frown and look away. I’d been toying with the idea of telling them about the notes in my locker, but after hearing this crap, I’ve changed my mind. They don’t need my problems too.
“Let’s talk about something else,” Samil jumps in. “You never really explained the lunch room thing, Em.” He’s right, I never did. But they showed me their magic; the least I can do is share my crazy.
“It’s kind of hard to explain,” I start, twisting my hands together. “Since I’ve been out of the hospital, I’ve been getting flashes of emotion or strange vibes from people. When I go in the cafeteria, it’s like all those different emotions and vibes hit me at once, suffocating me.”
“What do you mean by strange vibes?” Ian interjects. I make a face, trying to find words to explain it.
“Umm… Well some of the people I met in the hospital gave off a weird, oily, nasty feeling. It would radiate from them, like it was trying to cover me and coat the surfaces of the room. When that happened, I would try to leave as soon as possible. If I couldn’t leave, I’d pretend I wasn’t feeling good and ask them to leave.” The guys exchange looks but I keep going. “Sometimes it’s more of a prickling, creepy feeling of danger. For example, there was this guy I met, and even though he was smiling, I felt like beneath that smile he was really angry, maybe violent.”
“Wait a minute,” Clayton interrupts, his expression stormy. “This guy… Did he hurt you?”
Shit. I did not want to talk about fiancé debacle right now…
“No,” I say quickly, shaking my head. “But it’s a complicated story… If you’d rather hear about that than talk about my…” I trail off, not sure what to call my weird.
“Finish telling us about the strange vibes,” Samil answers, shooting Clayton a warning look.
“Ok, so where was I…” I bite my lip, aware that I’m not explaining it very well. Ugh, how do you explain a feeling? “Anyways, some people just make my skin crawl. Not you guys of course. I pretty much just avoid the people that give off those kinds of vibes.” I finish with another shrug.
“Is that everything you’ve experienced? Emotions and vibes?” Ian asks.
I shake my head. “I’ve been seeing auras. At least that’s what I think they are, based on what I’ve read. It’s mostly from people, but sometimes objects too. I don’t see them all the time; it kind of comes and goes. When they do show up, it doesn’t last long. After you guys told me about the Magi, I wondered if this stuff could be magic related. But I don’t know. Maybe I’m just crazy.” I smile and shrug.
“That’s pretty much everything. But I kinda don’t have a basis of comparison… I can’t always tell if something is normal or not. If it seems too weird, I usually try to ignore it. When I got out of the hospital, this stuff didn’t seem like something I should run around asking about. I didn’t want my parents to think I was crazy and drag me back to the doctor. When I mentioned eye issues in the hospital, they said it was probably a side effect of the trauma and that it would eventually clear up on its own.”
“Damn, Sprite. How have you been dealing with all of this shit alone?”
“Books mostly,” I grin. “Before school started, I did some research on energy, trying to figure out how to block the vibes and emotions. I read a really interesting book that talked about defending yoursel
f from psychic attacks and… Umm… Well, I used the information to figure out how to put up a shield that would keep out most of the emotions.”
Samil seems to be thinking that over. “Hmm, well it definitely sounds like it could be Magi related… maybe a side effect of the attack. We’ll do some research. See what we can come up with,” he says finally. “Speaking of the attack, we’ve made some progress with our research.”
“What did you find out?” I ask eagerly, sitting up straighter. I catch a mixture of emotions drifting from the guys, but I push it aside. Finding out more about what motivated the attack is way more important than psychoanalyzing the guys right now.
Samil stares pointedly at Ian. Ian clears his throat, shifting nervously on the couch.
“Well?” I prod.
After more uncomfortable silence, Ian sighs and turns to me. “We think we figured out what the perpetrator was trying to achieve with the… When he… When you got the scars… But uhh… This stuff is a bit… Intense, Emmy. After all, it’s movie night… So I’d understand if you wanted to wait and talk about it another time…”
“No,” I shout before catching myself. I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks, my heart racing. Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down, I meet Ian’s gaze. “I mean, no I don’t want to wait any longer. I want to know why.”
“If you’re sure,” Ian finally nods. “Jared, why don’t you start?”
“Ok,” Jared says, turning towards me, his knee grazing mine. I force myself to ignore the cold rush of his energy and focus on his words. “I’ve been going through the journals again. In them, I found several references to a Magi faction, referred to as the Publius Syrus, who advocated finding what they referred to as impure bloodlines. They theorized that the magic could be harvested from these “lesser Magi”. Now, the authors were part of an opposing faction, known as the Eodem. They objected to this research and were repulsed by the idea of what they saw as stealing magic. They broke away from the community and immigrated to America. Eventually, the Eodem settled here on the island. Now, since they cut off contact with the community after the split, the journals didn’t have any information on what the Publius Syrus have been doing for the last two hundred or so years… But when put together with Samil and Ian’s findings…” Jared trails off clearly not wanting to finish.
“It looks like your… assault was orchestrated by a Magi, potentially a group of Publius Syrus, trying to harvest magic,” Samil finishes for him. I bury my face in my hands, trying to absorb everything.
“So…” I start slowly, shaking with anger as the guys’ emotional reaction amplifies my own. “You’re telling me that sadistic bastard tortured and killed twelve people… In an attempt to steal magic that “might” be in their bloodline?” Arms wrap around my shoulders from behind, and the familiar heat of Sebastian’s energy encircles me. I take a deep breath, letting his presence calm me.
“Yes and no,” Ian jumps in. “Based on the runes used, it looks like they were trying to redirect the magic. Basically, move the magic into a vessel that would hold it and serve as a… battery, for lack of a better term. In turn, the vessel would be used to enhance one or more Magi.”
“Wait, you lost me there. A vessel? Like a jar?” I’m sure my face is twisted in confusion. Sebastian rests his head on mine, and I lean back against him.
“Not a jar. We believe magical energy can only exist within living Magi,” Samil takes over. “Based on the differences between your scars and the others…” Something I can’t identify flickering in his hazel eyes. “We think they were trying to turn you into the vessel.”
I frown, biting my lip as I try to understand what that means, but I just don’t get it. Setting it aside for the moment, I focus on a different question.
“And my memories… Was that an accident or a side effect or what?”
“It was Deliberate,” Samil growls, suppressed rage vibrating from him. “One of the runes on your back is a memory rune… A memory rune that he deliberately severed. We’re assuming it was done to make you more open… To whatever they had planned next. We’re still looking to see if the damage can be reversed.”
I sit in stunned silence. It was on purpose… Someone purposely wiped out all my memories… Someone that wanted to turn me into a vessel, battery, whatever, to hold magic… What the fuck… They guys stare at me, clearly worried, but I can’t think of anything to say. What kind of monsters were these Magi?
“Hey, Sprite,” Sebastian says softly, his breath tickling my ear. “I know it’s not much, but from the looks of things, that’s where the police interrupted the ritual. He didn’t get a chance to complete it.”
“Wait,” I gasp. Pulling away from him, I sit up and turn to look him in the eye. “The ritual isn’t complete? Does…” I pause, taking a deep breath. “Does that mean someone else could try to finish it for him?” Sebastian doesn’t say anything more. I look between Samil and the twins, needing an answer, even if it’s just guesswork.
“Theoretically speaking, yes,” Ian answers and I twist to face him. His ocean blue eyes are filled with sorrow. “But without more information, it’s impossible to know for sure. I also found some anomalies in the course of my research.” I frown in confusion and he hurries on. “Based on the police evidence collected from the scene and the timeline of events, the Magi should have completed the ritual and been gone long before they arrived. Now maybe he was just taking his time to make sure he did everything correctly… But I think it’s also possible that the binding spell you did with us may have somehow interfered with the spell, slowing him down. ”
“There is one other thing you should know…” Ian continues reluctantly, glancing at the others. “When we looked at everything logically… Well, it would be practically impossible for one person to perform a ritual that complex… So, the odds that he was working alone are pretty low. By extension, it seems reasonable to assume that eventually, the Magi may try to get you back.”
“Ok, let me make sure I have this straight,” I finally say, amazed at how calm I sound; when inside I feel like I’m going to explode. Maybe I’m going into shock. “I was kidnapped to be used in some kind of creepy Magi ritual with the intention of turning me into a brainless bottle for the magic they stole by killing innocent people. And the dead asshole probably has friends that know what he was doing and might try to finish the job? How were they going to get the magical energy out of me anyways?” Ian opens his mouth, but I quickly hold up my hand and shake my head. “Wait don’t answer that… I REALLY don’t want to know. This whole thing is fucked up enough already.”
“We don’t actually know how,” Samil volunteers. I roll my eyes at his poor listening skills. “But you’ve got the gist of it.”
“This whole thing is fucking sick!” I growl, shaking with rage. “What the hell is wrong with these people?” Rage for what happened to the other victims. Rage at what was done to me. Clayton’s suddenly in front of me, enveloping me in a tight hug. His protective energy wraps around me, steadying me.
“It’s ok Trouble, you’re with us. You’re safe,” Clayton murmurs, rocking me against him.
“Am I?” I whisper, my anger morphing into fear. “If what you’re saying is true, his buddies could be looking for me right now. What if they find me? What if they try to finish this ritual to turn me into some kind of zombified magic bottle? Is there something that can be done to stop it? A way to permanently block the Magi and lock off what’s left of my memories? Something that will keep them from finishing what they started if they do get a hold of me?” I twist around till Clayton no longer blocks my view of the others. They exchange looks and I bite my lip, anticipating the worst.
“We’re still working on that part,” Samil admits, frowning slightly. “Now that we have a good idea what the ritual was for, we can use that information to figure out how to best protect you. We’ll keep at it till we have answers, Em. We’re here for you.”
Silence falls heavily in the room
. Too many horrible thoughts run through my head. Some part of me hears the guys talking and moving around, but everything sounds muffled and far away. I curl up in a ball on the couch and close my eyes. I know the guys are nearby. I can feel the energy and emotions radiating off them, I just don’t have it in me right now to pull myself together. Instead, my brain just shuts down and I let myself slip into unconsciousness.
Tuesday, October 6th
∞
Pulling into a pump at the Quickie Stop, the small gas station close to the house, I cut the engine and pull out my credit card. I’ve got some time before I need to be home for my appointment, might as well take advantage of it. After paying at the pump, I set up the nozzle to auto fill.
I can’t wait till I can cancel these meetings with the psychiatrist. Ever since I made the mistake of telling her I’d had a panic attack, she’s been obsessed with it. If I have to listen to her asking for more details one more time… What brought it on? How I felt when it was happening? If I’d had any since our last appointment? I swear I’m going to scream. At this point, I’d rather spend the whole day in school than deal with her.
After the guys told me their theory about the “incident”, I’d gone home and found the bottle of pills from the psychiatrist still in my bag. I thought taking one might ease the panicky feeling in my chest and help me relax. Instead, I ended up in bed not feeling anything at all. Ironically enough, Mom thought I had the flu or something when I didn’t get up on Sunday, and called Sebastian to come babysit me so she could go to church. At least, that’s what Sebastian told me when he showed up to give me a ride to school on Monday. After hearing that, I flushed the rest of the pills down the toilet. That’s definitely an experience I do NOT want to repeat.
The click of the pump shutting off focuses me on the task at hand. Putting the nozzle back on the base, I grab the door handle.
“Emilienne?” a deep voice calls. I glance around, focusing on an unfamiliar man walking towards me. Tall with receding brown hair, his dark blue suit seems out of place in the parking lot.
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