by Jayla Kane
“Sounds like you owe her the apology then,” Tristan growled, and Jake launched himself towards his big brother, arms outstretched, a snarl etched on that perfect face.
The whole house erupted—dishes fell from the cupboards, splattering shards of broken glass all over the floor as he flew across the room. I screamed as Leo hurled himself in front of Jake, the collision taking place in mid-air, and Tristan…. Tristan wasn’t moving. As if the whole thing, the earthquake, the broken glass—none of it seemed to touch him. But he took a couple steps back, his face full of regret. I didn’t know if it was regret for what he’d done—what his choices had done to his brother—or that he didn’t want to fight Jake. I didn’t know. Shadows slid through the air like clouds racing across the sky, and I screamed again, watching Leo clutch Jacob as Tristan backed up, as Jake threw the older man off--
And I realized I was afraid of the way Jake’s magic—his Binding, if that’s what this was—didn’t affect Tristan.
Something was wrong. Even worse than it seemed.
Dangerous—but not for Tristan. For Jake.
JAKE! STOP! I grabbed the thread that bound us and yanked on it with my mind as hard as I could, pulling it with all my might as I screamed at him even louder than he’d screamed at me—
And the house shuddered to a complete stand-still, Jake falling instantly to his knees and clutching his head as suddenly as if I’d dealt him a terrible blow.
I ran over to him as soon as I could stand and grabbed his shoulders, sliding my fingers under his chin and forcing his face towards mine, my breath coming in shallow pants. His eyes spun in his head; Leo was grumbling in the background, the sounds of broken glass crunching beneath heavy boots as he and Tristan moved around behind me. “Are you okay?”
No. Of course I’m not fucking okay. I heard the words as clearly as if he’d whispered them in my ear—and other ones, too, a million small phrases and images flooded my brain, forcing me to rear back and mimic his pose of a moment ago as I reached up to rub my temples. As soon as my hands weren’t on his face, I didn’t hear the swarm any more. Raven, can you hear me? Just his voice, whispering in my mind. I nodded at him. His eyes raked across my face as they cleared, then focused on mine. You should have let me kill him.
Yeah, I snapped, watching the words flit through his brain as his pupils widened. I turned down my volume, trying not to hurt him again. Great idea. Because things worked out so well for both of us when we thought Tristan was dead before? Brilliant.
That’s just because I thought you did it, he said, and I was shocked to see a tiny quirk of his lip. His nose was bleeding. It’s different if I do it. That’s perfectly fine.
You’re an idiot. I reached out and rubbed the small trace of blood away with my sleeve, the shirt torn from broken glass shards as they’d sprinkled through the air. His eyes tracked the movement of my hand, then met mine again.
I think I’m really going to like the fact that you can’t ignore me or make me shut up. Ever again. He raised his eyebrows, winced in pain, and then gave me a tiny, mischievous smile.
Oh my fucking god—
“So he can hear you too?” Leo and Tristan were watching us, and I realized Jake and I had been silently huddled on the glass-strewn floor, staring at each other, for at least a minute. I pulled away and stood up, stumbling backwards until my feet touched the wall, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.
“Yes,” I mumbled, and Leo heaved a long sigh. Tristan was staring at his brother, and I still didn’t understand the look on his face.
“I guess you’re telepathic then,” Leo said, shrugging to himself. “Is it more intense with physical contact?”
“I don’t know,” I said, rubbing my forehead. “I’m still figuring it out.”
I’d say that’s a safe bet. Jake was watching his brother now as well, but he cut a glance at me. Or maybe it’s my magical dick that activated your super special—
I hate you, do you know that? Really. Jake was fighting back a laugh. He started to stand up, inhaling sharply as he stretched his back and shook off the remainder of the headache I gave him. I honestly didn’t understand his moods. Has anyone ever told you how fucking rude you are?
Yes. This one really hot brunette will never stop reminding me of all my failings, actually, she’s about five two, looks a lot like you—
“A telepathic bond between two people can be very isolating,” Leo suddenly said, and I realized we’d been doing it again, even though we were ten feet apart. “Because they tend to forget they’re around other people.”
“You mean it’s rude?” I shot a dark glare at Jake, who smiled to himself as he yanked a chair out of the wreckage and set it upright. He sat down in it and stretched out his legs, sighing as he rubbed his temples, my assault on his mind clearly still taking a toll. “Agreed. I’m sorry—we’re still just figuring all of this out.” I frowned at Leo. “For example, it doesn’t seem like I can hear you.”
“I think the bond is specific to the Sineater… And the Magi.”
“He’s not the Magi,” I said, pointing to Jake, “they call him—”
“A cute American twist,” Leo said, yanking his chair back out of the glass on the floor and setting it beside the table. “Makes it sound harmless. The Master of Games is the Magi, when you’re talking about the Ashwood Coven and not the version they’re presenting to the public. And Jake, I have to tell you, that is not a normal amount of power you’re wielding there, buddy.”
“You said something about hurricanes?” I wasn’t comfortable sitting down; Jake and Tristan were now eyeing one another like a pair of wolves, the distance between them not nearly enough. “That definitely qualified as hurricane-level intensity.”
“Yes, but… You said you saw snow?” I felt my cheeks redden. Jake, thankfully, was silent even in my head.
“Yes.”
“That’s unusual. That indicates two different kinds of elemental control. Usually we only have one concentrated area of power.”
“Like what?”
“Like telepathy,” Leo said, nodding at me. “That’s a power from the First Circle—internal Binding. Could be anything from mind control to dream-walking, although there are very unusual powers that present maybe once every couple of generations. First Circle powers are pretty rare in general,” he said thoughtfully, running his hand through his hair and shaking some of the glass out. “Most of us are elemental; I can control water elements. External Binding, it’s called. But I’m a descendant from a different coven, and only on one side, so my power isn’t necessarily going to create a flood—or a hurricane.” It was the first time he offered me a smile; it somehow made him look tired, not happy.
“So it’s not because I’m the Sineater?” I watched his face as he mulled over what to say.
“No, I don’t think so—the Sineater and the Magi have a… A symbiotic relationship. The Sineater can absorb the spells and energy generated by a Magi. They can undo their magic, which is basically impossible in every other circumstance. A spell is a spell—there’s no way to change the results, usually, because magic, just like anything else, isn’t static. You change one thing, and it has a domino effect. Sometimes that’s negligible or easily predictable, like anything else; you plant a seed, it grows into a flower. That kind of thing. But if you…” He thought for a minute, considering, then leaned forward on the table again and spread his hands as he offered an example. “If you throw a bunch of seeds scattershot all over your yard, you don’t know what’s going to grow. You might accidentally plant an oak on your water main, or pumpkins that take over your neighbor’s yard. You might think you know what you’re doing, too—perhaps you’re an experienced gardener, and you’re in a hurry—but a drought comes and kills everything. My point is, magic has to be managed. Has to be controlled, deliberate. And even then it can have terrible unforeseen consequences.” He pointed at me. “But the Sineater can undo the Magi’s spells. Like they never happened. That won’t undo a spell that requi
red the work of several witches—a coven, working together, for example—but it can undo the Magi’s contribution. And Magis are… Extremely powerful.” Leo pointed at Jake now. “You are a descendant of the Warfield dynasty. You are also a descendant of the Archer dynasty, on your mother’s side. And you fucking signed up as the Magi. So basically, your magic is on steroids.”
“Sweet,” Jake said, and I groaned out loud. Tristan shuffled his feet; Jake watched him for a moment, then let the smile fade from his face into something more thoughtful. “Listen, why can’t we just yank my name from the book? Tanglewood left. I can too,” he said, standing up from his chair and walking over to lean on the wall beside me. It was such a… A friendly thing to do that it really threw me off. He didn’t look down at me, though I knew he might be able to feel my emotions, this near to my skin.
“Tanglewood isn’t out of the coven. You can’t leave a coven,” Tristan growled, but I realized he wasn’t looking at Jake. He was looking at Leo.
“He’s right,” Leo said, shrugging.
“So… I just won’t do any magic,” Jake said seriously, and I was relieved that his flippancy—as usual—was an act. “I have no interest in causing a pumpkin outbreak. Although,” and he gave me one of his faux cheesy grins, instantly causing me to roll my eyes, “my girl here does love Halloween. Might make an exception for that.”
You’re an idiot, I said again, and I could swear I heard a low chuckle in response.
And then I thought something I really hoped he didn’t hear: did he just call me ‘his girl?’
Silence from Jake. Not even a flicker of his eyelids. So we did still have some privacy.
“You have to do magic,” Tristan said, and once again, I thought the despair in his voice was really disproportionate to the conversation at hand. “You’ll go fucking crazy if you don’t.”
“That’s true,” Leo said, and Jake and I stared at him.
“So maybe you should have started with that,” Jake said, his voice a bitter condemnation. “From the beginning?”
“You have to use the magic, or it will use you. End of story,” Leo said. “Even the people we were talking about—those distant descendants who have only the smallest amount of witch blood? They have to catch those fish. They have to play cards. They have to. If they don’t, that tiny amount of magic will turn sour—it can come out as an addiction, as a compulsion of some kind that is unhealthy or harmful. And if you’re a direct descendant, multiply that by ten.”
“And if you’re Jake?” I wanted to reach out and hold his hand; to my surprise, his fingers brushed mine, just briefly, and I felt a rush of warmth through my body. As if we were reassuring one another—as if that were possible.
“Multiply it by a thousand, looks like,” Leo said. I didn’t like his indifferent tone.
“So Jake is going to go crazy if he doesn’t cause an earthquake now and then?” I glared at Leo, and he seemed to realize this wasn’t good news. “Like, literally crazy?” I was shocked silent when long fingers laced through mine. Jake’s voice was quiet in my head, almost a caress.
It’s okay, Raven, he said. You better calm down or I’m going to start thinking you give a shit about me. The dull roar in the background of his mind was quieter this time, but I could hear his thoughts, swirling behind every word.
Think whatever you want. Apparently you’re crazy.
Is that really so different? And let’s be honest. You kind of like that I—
“Do you have any specific information on how much magic he has to do to stay sane?” As sane as you are, anyway, I thought, and felt his responding chuckle resonate through my mind as he gently squeezed my fingers. I glanced up at him, but he was watching his brother; I carefully extracted my hand and slid a foot away on the wall. The truth was that I couldn’t stop myself from caring about him… And Tristan was right. He owed me a pretty fucking big apology—more than one.
He gave me a questioning look, then seemed to understand my unspoken thoughts pretty well just from the expression on my face. When we turned forward again, Leo was watching us with a mildly bored expression. “It is both fascinating and rude as hell to sit here while you two lovebirds bicker in complete silence,” he finally said, sitting back in his chair and cracking his knuckles. “To answer your question: I have no idea. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“Wait and see?” That was Tristan, and he looked like he wanted to punch Leo in the face.
“I don’t know what else to tell you,” he said sharply, reading the same thing I did from Tristan’s expression.
“So… I have to do magic,” Jake said slowly, then narrowed his eyes at the pair of men. “And you do too. And her. And everyone else like us.”
“There is no one else like you,” Leo said, then raised an eyebrow at me. “Or her, for that matter. The Ashwood Coven is the only one of its kind.”
“Whatever,” I snapped. “Fine. The point remains—we all have to use our magic or we go batshit crazy?”
“Basically,” Leo said.
“Focus on that, then,” I said. “I think—I can’t help but use mine. It’s obnoxious,” I said, shooting a quick glare at Jake. “But what about him, and you? And you?” I pointed at Tristan. “You have the same parents. Aren’t you on steroids too?”
“He’s not the Magi,” Leo said, and Tristan stared down at the floor.
“All the same, he’s super-charged, or whatever,” I said, and Leo nodded. “So what kinds of spells can we… Can we do? To make sure Jake is alright?” I wasn’t the only one thinking about this; I could tell from Tristan’s forlorn expression he was preoccupied with the same thing.
“We’ll have to wait and see,” Leo said again, and I walked over and stood in front of him, letting my irritation show.
“Give me another stupid answer like that again, and I’m going to read your mind,” I said. “And I might be shitty at it, and maybe you’ll be stuck listening to my thoughts too, but I guarantee I can find something in there you don’t want me to.” Jake walked up behind me, looming over Leo, and to my surprise Tristan silently came and stood behind him—not, I could tell, in solidarity with the man whose house we just trashed. Leo gave me a withering sigh, and rubbed his temples.
“Try small things at first—remember, the powers are elemental. So heat up a bath, or water your garden, or start a fire in the fireplace back at your damn mansion.”
“Jesus Leo, how old are you?” Jake lowered his head so that it was next to mine, and we glared down at him together, cheek to cheek. I felt the warmth of his proximity like a sunburn, even as I focused my irritation on Leo. “Everything you say makes it sound like you should be living in a goddamn retirement villa.”
“That’s your answer, smart-ass,” Leo said, unruffled. “It might require you to do a little more work than you ever have in your spoiled existence, but that’s okay. Gives you character.”
“He’s already a character,” I mumbled, and felt Jake’s finger slide along the groove of my spine, a wave of heated imagery wafting towards my mind in its wake. I wiggled away from him, throwing a wayward elbow towards his torso—he dodged it effortlessly, of course—and started moving towards the door. “I’m leaving. Leo, we need to make sure we can find you when we have more questions. Tristan…” I turned and looked at him; he met my gaze, but his face was empty. A wasteland. “My sister said she doesn’t want to see you.”
He stared at me, unmoving, and then finally nodded once. I turned to go, Jake swiftly following.
“Jacob—”
“Don’t,” he said, not turning around, and as we walked down to the street and stepped onto the asphalt I couldn’t help but glance back once—just once—to see Tristan, still and silent and unbearably, excruciatingly sad, staring out from Leo’s door.
“Come on,” Jake said, grabbing my wrist and twisting me forward again. I jerked my hand loose, not wanting to hear his thoughts or share mine in that moment, and followed him down the street.
Chapte
r Four
Raven
Jake and I started walking back to campus together, wrapped in our separate thoughts—thank goodness, I realized—and halted when we got to the corner where my family’s house stood. I could see Zelle behind the counter at the shop, distracted with a crowd of freshman clamoring for coffees. I’d studiously avoided another confrontation with her, and I knew if I went inside right now she’d want to talk… And what the hell could I tell her? I’d seen Tristan? Seen the devastation on his face when I told him she didn’t want to see him? Could I hold her hand and listen to her grieve, or gloat, or whatever the hell she did behind the imagined privacy of her eyeballs?
I couldn’t stomach it, any of it, so I turned and started walking down the street towards the Institute. It took me a second to realize Jake was still with me; he’d waited for me to make up my mind outside of the shop and was now casually strolling along at my side, as if it were normal for the two of us to do this—or anything, really--together. “Jake, what do you want?” I stopped moving and turned towards him as soon as we were far enough away from the entrance of the store for me to avoid my sister. “What’s going on?”
“Why aren’t you going home?” Instead of the veneer of casual, frat-boy cruelty he wore back at Leo’s, Jake peered down at me with genuine curiosity. And a bit of concern. It was unnerving.
“Listen,” I said, shaking my head at him, “I think… I guess we need to talk—”
