by H G Lynch
Pretending not to notice the way he was looking at her, Ember grumbled, “I can control peoples’ minds and I’ve got slightly heightened senses. Whoopee.”
“You also have quite a way of attracting the opposite sex,” Owen muttered, so low she knew she wasn’t meant to have heard it. She frowned, unsure if he was being sarcastic or not.
He turned to look straight in her eyes, and she blinked, taken aback by his sudden boldness. “Do you even realise you’re doing it?” Owen shook his head, looking frustrated as he took a step toward her. She stared at him, tensing, getting ready to bolt.
He continued, oblivious to her growing unease. “I bet you don’t. That’s why you’re looking at me like I’m crazy. You don’t even know you’re beautiful.” Another step forward, and Owen was close enough to touch. “God, Emy, how could you not realise? How could you not know how beautiful you are? I’ve been able to see it since we were kids – how pretty you were then, and how pretty you’d grow up to be. You’ve always been amazing.”
She really should tell him to shut up now, but the thing was, she didn’t want to. She liked hearing him tell her she was pretty, liked being thought of that way. His heather-purple eyes held hers, and she couldn’t look away, couldn’t move. Something was wrong. What’s happening to me? she thought, even as her sense of panic rose and fell like a wave crashing and receding.
Owen lifted his hand and rubbed his thumb across her cheek. Ember stayed frozen, unable to move, as he leaned close to whisper to her, his eyes glowing and mesmerizing. “You know it’s why Reid likes you so much – because of how you look. Because he wants you. It’s obvious in the way he looks at you, and touches you. He sees you differently than I do. He sees you maybe as more than a conquest but as less than a–” Owen was leaning still closer, so close that all Ember could see was his bright, eager eyes, so close she knew with a faded sense of dread that he was going to kiss her and she couldn’t do anything to stop it...
And then a hand whipped out and grabbed Owen’s wrist, jerking him away from her. Ember blinked, brought sharply out of her strange little trance, confused. What just happened? The thread of what Owen had been saying dripped away like water through her fingers, and she forgot…
Uncertain, she looked up. Next to her, Reid was fuming, his fingers wrapped so tightly around Owen’s wrist that it looked to be cutting off circulation. His fangs had slid down, and his eyes had turned that deadly metallic shade of blue that was like ice over a raging river. Ember took half a step away from him; Reid was very scary when he was this angry.
“You know what I see?” Reid spat, his fingers crushing Owen’s wrist slowly. Pain was etched into Owen’s face, lines of it drawn into the skin around his mouth and eyes, but his glare was defiant. “I see a pain-in-the-ass little punk touching my girlfriend. And if you try it again, I’ll break your hand. Got it?” Reid hissed, and Owen grunted as Reid squeezed his wrist harder. Veins popped up on the back of Owen’s hand. Ember knew that was probably a lot more painful than it looked, considering Reid’s inhuman strength, and it looked pretty damn painful. She bit her lip anxious, hoping Reid wouldn’t actually break Owen’s wrist.
“Reid,” she said quietly. Where had he come from? And why was he so angry at Owen? They’d just been training, and then…then what? She couldn’t think. Had she blacked out? She couldn’t remember the last few seconds between practicing with Owen to Reid showing up. Had she pushed herself so hard she fainted?
Reid didn’t look at her. He was staring Owen down, rage simmering in his blue eyes. Owen had gone pale, a muscle in his cheek twitching. His hand was turning purple. Ember stepped forward, concerned. “Reid, let him go.”
Gritting his teeth, Reid hesitated a few seconds, and Ember thought he would really break Owen’s wrist. Then Reid dropped Owen’s hand, but he took a step toward the dark-haired boy. The menace pouring off him made him tower over the warlock boy. “I thought I proved my point last time. She is mine!” Reid hissed. Ember felt her jaw drop open at his words. Last time? What was he talking about?
“Reid, what are you–”
But he wasn’t listening. “I warned you,” he snarled at Owen. “I told you if you touched her again, I would break your face. Guess you didn’t get the message the first time. Let me reiterate in a way you’ll understand.” Reid grabbed a handful of Owen’s shirt and pulled back his other fist. Owen’s eyes widened, and Ember lunged forward, grabbing Reid’s arm before he could throw the punch.
“Reid! Don’t!” she squeaked. Reid barely even paused; he shook her off distractedly and drove his fist forward into Owen’s nose – or, he tried to. A sudden spark of light flared up between him and Owen, and his fist came to a halt in the air an inch from Owen’s face. For a second, Reid looked surprised, and then fury twisted his features. “You stupid warlock bastard! Can’t even fight like a–”
Owen shook his head, holding up his hands. “I’m not doing it.”
Reid curled his lip. “Like hell you’re not. Who the hell else–”
Owen’s eyes slid to Ember, and she flinched. Reid paused, his gave following Owen’s, and his eyebrows went up. “Ember?”
She cringed, her hand outstretched, as if to physically grab Reid’s fist. She could feel the magic tingling down her arm, a feather of heat running over her fingers and the back of her hand. Swallowing, she lowered her hand, and released the magic. She hadn’t meant to do it – she wouldn’t even have known how to make a shield like that if Owen had asked her to. It just…happened. And now Reid was looking at her like she’d betrayed him – no, worse, like he didn’t even recognise her.
“Sorry,” she murmured. “I didn’t mean to…I just…don’t hit him. He didn’t do anything wrong.”
Reid stared at her with wide, incredulous eyes, still holding the front of Owen’s t-shirt. “Didn’t do…are you saying you wanted him to try and kiss you?”
She shook her head, frowning. What? “No, he wasn’t…we were just practicing.”
For a moment, Reid was silent, his expression unreadable. Then something passed over his face and he turned his eyes back to Owen, who flinched at whatever he saw in Reid’s gaze. “What did you do to her?” Reid hissed, his voice so low Ember almost didn’t hear.
Getting annoyed, she threw up her hands. “He didn’t do anything, Reid! We were–”
He ignored her again, his expression hard as stone as he growled, “What did you to her, you slimy little twit?”
Ember gritted her teeth. Reid was being an idiot now. He was acting like a douche, and she wanted him to quit it – give it up and walk away. Owen hadn’t done anything to her. “Reid, would just–”
“Ember, shut up! He did something, I know it, and if he doesn’t fix it right now…” he let the threat trail off, and Owen’s chest rose and fell rapidly, panic growing in his eyes.
Ember stood there, her mouth open in shock, staring at her boyfriend. Did he seriously just tell me to shut up? she thought. Then, yes, he did. Anger flared up in her chest, hot and toxic. She felt her magic react to her fury, spilling sizzling electricity through her limbs. In a steely voice, she said, “Reid, let him go right now, or I swear to God, I will bitch-slap you so hard you’ll feel it for a week.”
He froze and turned his head to look at her. He looked caught between anger and astonishment. “Are you doing that?” he asked quietly, watching her like she was a bomb that could explode any second.
Doing what? she thought. “Drop him, Reid. Now. And then leave.”
He blinked. “You’re serious.”
She clenched her fists. “Yes, I’m bloody serious! Let him go and get out of my face, Reid!”
Looking startled, he let go of Owen’s shirt and opened his mouth to say something. Ember cut him off. “Owen,” she said without looking at the warlock boy, “are you okay?”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod. “I’m fine. But Ember, you should–”
She was getting sick of people telling her what to do. “Go
, Owen. Please.”
He hesitated only a moment, and then disappeared. She heard his footsteps as he crunched through the dead leaves littering the ground. She waited until she couldn’t hear him anymore, and then turned to leave herself. But Reid caught her arm, his fingers closing over her forearm. “Hey, Emz, wait.”
She didn’t think. She spun, and slapped him. The sound made a harsh cracking noise, whipping his head to the side. “Don’t,” she snapped. “Don’t even talk to me right now.”
Reid gingerly lifted a hand to his cheek, which was stained red with blood rising to his fair skin in the shape of a handprint. A bead of blood rolled from the corner of his mouth where his fang had nicked his lip, and he made a soft sound of surprise. The hurt look in his eyes made guilt harden into a rock in her stomach, but she was too angry to take it back. Still, she looked away as her eyes burned and stung.
“Ember,” he said softly, his tone as hurt as the look on his face. She swallowed, blinking to keep the tears back. She wouldn’t cry in front of him; wouldn’t let him see that his snapping at her, telling her to shut up like that, had hurt her too.
“Go away, Reid. I don’t want to talk to you right now.”
He didn’t let go. “Emz, please, what did I do? I was just trying to protect you. Owen did something–”
She whirled on him, glaring at him with watery eyes. “Owen didn’t do anything! We were just practicing! You didn’t need to be such a dick! You didn’t need to tell me to shut up, like I’m some barking dog on a leash!”
Reid opened his mouth, looking about to protest, and then shut it again. He went pale. “Shit. Shit, Emz, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Clenching her jaw, Ember sniffled and turned away. “Yeah, whatever. Just leave me alone.” She snatched her arm from his grasp and walked away, and this time, he didn’t stop her. She stormed away through the trees with her lungs clamping down like she was going to have an asthma attack. But she knew it was guilt choking her, not any medical condition. This was her first real fight with Reid since they’d become a couple. It hurt, despite her rage. It hurt a lot.
Chapter Fifteen
** Ember **
There were only two more days before the October Holidays ended and her mother – and Owen – finally went home. Lying on her bed, listening to Frightened Rabbit’s new album, she wondered if she could just hide out in her room until Monday. She didn’t feel like working up a smile for her mother, or doing more practicing with Owen – and, truthfully, she was avoiding Reid. She hadn’t seen him since their argument the other day; he seemed to be taking her order to leave her alone seriously.
Part of her was glad, because she was still sort of mad at him. But the other part was disappointed. She supposed she had expected him to ignore her wishes like he always did and come and see her, apologise over and over until she forgave him for acting like a prick. But then, she should’ve known better – Reid wasn’t the groveling type.
Ember sighed and rolled over, almost strangling herself with her headphone wires. She lay on her stomach, staring at the door, one arm dangling over the side of the bed. There was a sore spot in her chest that ached every time she thought of the look on Reid’s face when she slapped him. God, he’d looked so surprised, so hurt…guilt made her eyes sting, and she pressed her face into the duvet to smother the whimper trying to escape her throat. She hated this. She hated feeling like this. It was ridiculous – it had only been two days – but she missed Reid, and even Frightened Rabbit’s amusing lyrics and profanity couldn’t cheer her up.
She wished Sherry wasn’t out with Ricky. She’d told Sherry about the fight with Reid after it happened, and Sherry was on her side; she agreed that Reid had acted like an idiot. But now Ember was wondering if she’d been too harsh. Reid had said he’d only been trying to protect her, but all she’d seen was him picking a fight with Owen…but he’d seemed adamant that Owen had done something to her, and there was a gap in her memory, a blank spot between practicing with Owen and Reid showing up. What had happened in that time? She assumed she’d pushed herself too far with her magic and she’d blacked out for a moment, but what if she hadn’t? What if Owen really had done something to her to make her lose her memory?
Ember bit her lip. Then she came to a decision. She yanked out her headphones, dropping her MP3 on her pillow, and rolled off the bed just as someone knocked on the door. Her heart leapt. Reid, she thought.
But when she pulled open the door, it wasn’t Reid; it was Owen.
He smiled at her bashfully, one hand in his jeans pocket. “Hey,” he said quietly.
She tried to hide her disappointment and anxiety as she smiled back. “Um…hey.”
Owen looked down at his feet. “I’m sorry about the other day. I didn’t mean to start anything between you and Reid.”
Ember blinked, surprised by his apology. “It’s okay,” she said slowly. “Reid has a bad temper. It’s not your fault. But Owen…” She hesitated, chewing her lip.
Owen looked up at her questioningly. “Yeah?”
“What exactly happened? You know, to piss Reid off like that?”
His eyes widened. “You don’t remember?” he asked, sounding concerned. Ember shook her head. Owen’s brow furrowed, and his lips turned down at the corners. “You were trying so hard to move that rock, you overdid it. You passed out for like, ten seconds, but Reid must’ve seen you fall. I tried to catch you, and…he got the wrong idea. Thought I’d done something to you.” He paused and gave her a shy sort of smile. “But you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
Ember nodded. “Of course. I thought that was what happened anyway,” she said. Owen nodded too, and then stood there awkwardly. She raised an eyebrow at him. “Was there something else you came here for?”
Owen blinked. “Oh, yeah. I was going to ask if you wanted to go for a walk. I heard the trails through the woods go right out past the town borders. I thought we could make an afternoon of it.”
Looking at Owen, at his innocently hopeful expression, Ember hesitated, remembering Reid’s certainty that Owen had done something to her. But his explanation made perfect sense, and what she’d was true; Reid did have a bad temper.
Owen’s enthusiasm started to fade as she stood there, debating whether or not to trust him. “Or, you know, if you had plans with Reid, maybe tomorrow instead…” he suggested, disappointment written plainly across his face.
Ember made up her mind. “No, no plans. Just let me grab my shoes and we can go.”
Owen’s face lit up, and she grinned back. She grabbed her boots from the wardrobe – the same boots she’d worn the day she went horse riding with Reid – and her hoodie, and followed Owen out the door…leaving her phone on the bedside table.
Chapter Sixteen
** Ricky **
Frowning, Ricky tugged his hands through his hair in agitation, frustrated. The room was a mess, thanks to him – the drawers opened, the closet doors wide, the edge of the carpet peeled away to reveal the floorboards, the bed covers torn back. He’d searched the entire bloody room, and found nothing. He hadn’t been able to find any evidence of deceit in Owen’s room before, aside from the spell books, but that hadn’t alleviated his feeling that Owen was hiding something besides his magic, and after what Reid told him the other day – that Owen had somehow erased part of Ember’s memory – Ricky had decided to give Owen’s room a more thorough search while he was out.
As soon as he’d gotten back from having lunch with Sherry, he’d come here, and spent the last half hour tearing the place apart, looking for evidence that Owen was up to something sinister – well, more sinister than trying to piss Reid off. It wasn’t hard to make Reid angry – he had a short fuse – but over the last couple of days, the blonde boy had been seething; not just angry at Owen, but with himself. Ember wasn’t talking to him, and he was taking it pretty hard, trying to give her space. Ricky had finally convinced him to go work it off in the pool while he searched Owen’s room.
&nb
sp; Now, standing in the middle of the wreckage he’d created, Ricky grimaced. He couldn’t think of anywhere else Owen might have hidden something telling. He was starting to consider putting everything back in order and leaving, his anxiety not in the least bit eased, and then he spotted it – sticking out over the top of the wardrobe, the edge of something.
Frowning, Ricky walked over and reached up, snagging the corner peeking over the edge of the wardrobe. He pulled it down. It was a book, with a dark leather cover. He flipped it open, curious, his heart beating a little faster – this was it. This had to be the evidence he’d been looking for.
He flicked through the pages, his eyes tracing lines of uneven handwriting, growing more and more nervous until he came to a recent entry and one word jumped out at him. He read it, and his hands began to shake.
“Oh God,” he breathed. He needed to get Reid.
He took the book and ran.
** Reid **
“Reid! You’ve got to see this! Now!” Ricky practically roared down the empty hall to him, his eyes wide and his hair windswept. He’d obviously been running. With a sigh, Reid sauntered down the hall to his best friend curiously, his swim bag tossed over one shoulder and his hair still damp and smelling of chlorine from the pool, wondering what had Ricky’s panties in a twist. Quiet, sensible Kee was rarely so loud or so frantic, but obviously today something was going on.
“What’s up?” Reid tossed the question to his quivering friend with a nonchalance that obviously irked the younger boy.