by Ivy Asher
“No, it’s a residual jinx. Did your grandmother teach you how to do a cleanse?” he hurriedly asks, and my heart drops.
Shit, did she?
Tad’s mouth opens and closes like a hooked fish that’s just begging to be put back in the water. I can’t think as he starts to turn purple, and the reality that he’s dying right in front of my eyes clobbers me.
“Lennox!” Aunt Hillen screams, the sound a demand that falls on me like a ton of bricks. “Help him!” she begs, her plea so raw and broken that my vision immediately blurs as emotion overwhelms me. Rogan has to push her back with a snarled warning not to touch her son, and I feel something in me shatter.
“Lennox, did she?” Rogan demands, and the tears in my terrified eyes spill over as I look up at him.
“I don’t know, I don’t remember!”
I drop my gaze to Tad, tears dripping down my cheeks as my best friend’s struggle for air grows weaker and weaker. He’s going to die, and it’s going to be all my fault.
8
“Lennox! Look at me,” Rogan orders as panic climbs up my throat, threatening to close my airway.
My eyes snap to his, and the hard unforgiving glint I find in his gaze is exactly what I need to help me get my shit together.
“I’ll walk you through it,” he tells me, reaching under his shirt and yanking at whatever he seems to have hidden there.
A silky red pouch comes away in his hand, the straps that kept it hidden under his shirt frayed and damaged from being ripped off. He opens the pouch and pulls out a handful of loose herbs, sprinkling them around Tad, who has now stopped struggling, his body jerking with weak spasms as the jinx works to steal the last of his fight.
“Adhaint,” Rogan commands, and the herbs immediately light and then go out, leaving a ring of scented smoke in their wake.
The smell of sage hits me, and the scent helps to calm my splintering nerves as I watch Rogan sprinkle liquid on Tad.
“Give me your hands.”
I reach out immediately, placing my palms in his, and as soon as I do, I feel him activate the familiar bond and start tugging at my magic. I gasp, and he studies my face for a beat before saying, “Your turn.”
I close my eyes and open myself up entirely, desperately searching for the connection between Rogan and me, like I did with Hoot when I first checked to make sure our familiar bond was in place. I find it easily, warm and strong and coiled around what feels like my essence...my soul. Surprise flickers through me, but I dismiss it. I’m not a Soul Witch, so I could be wrong, and now isn’t the time to dive into what the hell Rogan’s magic is doing there.
I yank on the connection, and a small grunt from Rogan confirms that he felt it. I look over at him, and I don’t miss the same uneasiness in his features that I feel over giving someone access to something that should only be mine. It’s as though he’s tagged his name all over my insides, and all I want to do is scrub it away. I shove all my concerns and feelings on that matter aside, forcing myself to concentrate solely on saving Tad.
“Repeat after me,” Rogan directs, and then slowly he speaks an incantation. He finishes and then immediately repeats it. I listen until he starts again and then add my own voice to the cleansing words. The smoke from the loose sage thickens around us, and the smell of a warm day at the lake billows out from the liquid Rogan sprinkled all over my cousin.
I close my eyes as the incantation spills from my lips. I shove all the magic I can into my words and picture it moving over Tad, clearing away the vicious magic that’s clinging to him. I pour out my magic, begging it to save him, demanding that the powers that be make this right. Tears stream steadily down my cheeks as I release all my hope out into the world and pray that it’s enough. I chant with all that I am, terrified that I’ll open my eyes and see that it’s not working.
My hands squeeze Rogan’s as fear and despair taunt me. His grip tightens against mine, and then something strange happens. A coolness trickles over me, not the frigid uncomfortable kind that I experienced when I sealed the bones to me, it’s more like a welcome relief that’s chasing away the heat and misery. It moves through me, tickling my senses, and then suddenly it feels like I’m not the only one inhabiting my body.
Another awareness is pressed tightly against me, and it sends all my nerve endings firing with all kinds of sensations. A tingling feeling begins to build at my core, but I can’t concentrate on what the hell it is as image after image begins to flash in my mind. They move so fast that it’s hard to make them out. Sometimes I catch what I think is me as a kid, sometimes there are other children who I don’t recognize.
I catch an image of me on Christmas morning opening a toy horse set that I’d wanted for years. A boy cuddling a fat orange tabby. Me crying after my first mean girl experience in middle school. Two boys sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night to go fishing. A man screaming, his face contorted with rage. A pouch of bones that aren’t mine. My first kiss. A fistfight between the same boys who snuck out to go fishing, but they’re older now, and I can recognize Rogan in one of the teenager’s faces.
I see my dad hugging me the day he told me he was sick. Bloody hands that are heavy with despair. Me, sitting in the bathtub, staring dead-eyed at the tiled wall the day I found my dad’s note. A beautiful woman writhing in ecstasy as Rogan works himself in and out of her. My last boyfriend dropping to his knees and slowly pulling my underwear down.
Shock ricochets through me, and I try to pull away from the reel of our lives that’s flashing in front of me, but before I can do anything, I feel the magic that’s blooming in my chest intensify and grow blindingly brighter. It’s as though someone just detonated a small atom bomb behind my sternum, and a pulse of light and power explodes out of Rogan and me.
It rips all traces of punishing magic from Tad and throws my Aunt Hillen against the balcony railing when it slams into her. The windows of my apartment rattle, and the door to the empty apartment next to mine cracks up the middle. I pant as waves of emotion and sensation power through me. Confusion, need, loss, interest, frustration, it’s hard to think through everything that’s bombarding me, demanding my immediate attention.
My hands are still in Rogan’s, but both of us have stopped chanting. I look down to find Tad’s healthy pallor is back, and he’s pulling in deep long pulls of air. I try to reach for him, but my hands are trapped in a steely grip. My gaze snaps up, and green eyes are fixed on mine. Rogan stares at me intensely, his own breathing hard and his cheeks flushed.
Did he just see everything I did?
I stare at him for a beat, as though I could read the answer to that question in his gaze, but when Tad gasps and sits up, Rogan releases my hands, and whatever was just happening between us pops like a fragile balloon.
I wrap Tad up in a bone-crushing hug, and Aunt Hillen tackles us both with a sob. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she murmurs over and over again as she checks both of us until she’s satisfied that we’re okay. Tears drip down all of our faces, and we hug and cry and take a moment to just be with each other again.
“Are you okay?” I ask Tad as he separates from our strangleholds. He rubs his hands down his face and musses up his light brown hair.
“Yeah, I think so,” he declares, sounding a bit in shock. “I have a headache, and I feel like I was just struck by nine thousand bolts of lightning, but other than that…” Tad shrugs and gives a small chuckle, and I’m so relieved and overwhelmed by everything that just happened that my waterworks kick in double time. I don’t miss the slight tremor in Tad’s hands as he drops them to his side.
That was close. Way too fucking close.
“I’m so sorry—” I offer, but Hillen shushes me.
“It wasn’t your fault, Leni. I don’t know who did that, but when I find them, I’m going to rip their heart right out of their chest, like they just tried to do to me. Stupid bastards.”
“Aunt Hillen, such language!” I tease quietly as I wipe my face free o
f tears. She pinches me playfully and pulls me and Tad back into a tight hug. “What would I do without my babies?” she asks rhetorically, and I sink into the embrace for a moment, needing an extra dose of comfort after what just happened.
My heart is still hammering away against my ribs, and I feel wired with adrenaline. I want to hunt whoever just tried to kill my cousin down and make them suffer. I don’t know what I would have done if Rogan hadn’t been here.
I look up to find him leaning against the side of the apartment, quietly watching our reunion and giving us space to console one another. Hoot is sitting at his feet, leaning against his leg like some drunkard who’s three sheets to the wind but won’t admit it.
“Thank you,” I tell him, my eyes welling up again and my voice thick with gratitude.
“That was meant for you,” he declares simply.
“I know,” I admit, not sure how to process that someone just tried to kill me, and Tad was caught in the crossfire. “Does Magda know anyone powerful enough to create a hex like that?” I ask Hillen.
She shakes her head but looks over at the door thoughtfully. “I’d be shocked if she did. She thinks she’s a big deal in our family, but outside of us, she has no power, holds no sway. She’s inconsequential to the magical community; I don’t think anyone powerful enough to hex like that would pay her or Gwen any mind.”
What she’s saying makes sense, but it does nothing to make me feel better. If not Magda and Gwen, then who?
“It wasn’t designed to kill you,” Rogan states, his green gaze also studying my front door. “It was designed to keep you here, to slow you down. If it had been you, and you were able to break free from the hex, the jinx would have moved slower. Your magic would have naturally put up a fight to keep it from taking over,” he tells me pointedly. “But your cousin doesn’t have any magic at all. His inability to fight off or slow down the jinx turned it lethal. Other than your aunt and cousin, any other enemies?” he asks, fixing a worried look back on me.
A tic in Rogan’s jaw begins, and it’s clear that he’s distressed. He looks as though he didn’t see this coming either. I can only imagine that he’s also thinking of his brother, of what this means for him. I’m sure he didn’t expect for whoever took Elon to find me so fast. Well, that makes two of us. I didn’t think the magical community would have any idea that Ruby had even passed yet, not unless the necromancers are a bunch of gossips.
“Aside from a hairdresser that I gave a bad review to once, I don’t think I have any mortal enemies. She technically never threatened to kill me, just said I would rot in hell for telling people the truth about the yellow highlights she gave me and whatever it was she did to my hair that made it frizzy for a month. But that was a long time ago, and she was definitely a Lesser.”
Hillen gets to her feet, and Rogan is wrapped up in a tight hug before I can even blink. He pats my aunt’s back awkwardly as she showers him with praise and admiration. She starts to tell him something, but a tap on my elbow pulls my attention away.
“So...want to fill me in on who the knight in nicely fitting jeans is?” Tad asks, nudging my shoulder with his.
Relief escapes me in the form of a giggle. I pull Tad in for another hug, so overwhelmingly relieved that he’s okay. I could have never forgiven myself if something would have happened to him. Tad hugs me back, and we stay like that for a minute, wrapped up in the moment where everything is once again okay.
“That is Rogan Kendrick,” I start as I pull myself together and reluctantly let him go. “Grammy was supposed to help him with something, which means now I’m helping him with something,” I explain as I push my curls out of my face. Why does this day feel like it’s lasted for years?
I need a nap.
I purposely leave out all the details about Rogan making me his familiar and then knocking me out. I figure he’s earned a bit of hero worship for what he just did for Tad. I’ll have to burst their bubble about him another day.
“Rogan Kendrick,” Tad repeats quietly, his cadence saucy and a little awed. “I hope when you say helping him, it’s to your bed, because if not, then you, Leni, are a wasteful girl, and you know how Grammy Ruby felt about that.”
An incredulous snort sneaks out of me, and I roll my eyes. “Grammy Ruby was talking about us eating our vegetables, not getting freaky with every pretty face that crosses our paths.”
“Was she though?” Tad counters with a wag of his eyebrows.
“Trust me, he’s not my type,” I argue.
“What? You’re not into drop-dead gorgeous half-giants with a hero complex and lips that could steal your soul? Unless...does he play for my team? I wasn’t picking up any vibes… Oh fuck, did the hex destroy my gaydar?” he asks, panicked, which of course just makes me laugh. Stress and guilt roll off my shoulders as the mood lightens and relief works its way back into me.
“Language!” Aunt Hillen scolds, interrupting whatever conversation she and Rogan are caught up in. I don’t even know how she heard her son’s potty mouth over their talking. I smile.
Tad rolls his eyes and decides it’s time to get back on his feet. He reaches behind me and plucks the bone knife I used to cut him free, from where it must have fallen, and hands it to me. “I don’t know when you started arming yourself, but I’m glad you had this on you. That hex hurt like a bitch.”
A jolt of guilt strikes through me as we stand up, and Tad reaches out and pulls me into his side. “Don’t do that, Len. Ma’s right, this isn’t your fault. Don’t go getting ideas about distancing yourself for our safety. You’ll get better with the whole magic thing, and shi—I mean, crap—like this won’t be a big deal.”
I nod, but in my gut, I can’t help but feel responsible and seriously uneasy. This happened to him because of me. I push the guilt aside, knowing I’ll have to come to terms with it later. I stare down at the knife in my hand, my curiosity about it once again piqued.
“The knife was in the pouch,” I explain. “I have no idea how it got there. I swear there were only bones in the bag before.”
“You conjured it,” Rogan’s deep voice supplies.
“Say what now?” I ask, as my eyebrows shoot up with surprise, and I look from the knife up to Rogan.
“You...conjured it. We can all do it. We can think of something we need, and as long as you have some kind of connection to the item, you can magic it to you. You also magic it away by putting it back into the pouch.”
“Like that sack that Hermione had in...crap, I can’t remember which book it was?” Tad queries excitedly.
“No, not like in some kids’ books. It’s not magicked to hold whatever we want, it’s more complicated than that,” Rogan declares, a bite of arrogant irritation to the claim.
“Totally would have been a Death Eater,” Tad proclaims randomly, pointing a thumb in Rogan’s direction.
I chuckle, giving Rogan a scrutinizing once over before leaning toward Tad and whispering, “Called it.”
“It’s always the pretty ones,” he retorts.
“Just like your mama has always said.”
“Hate when she’s right.”
“Amen,” I agree without missing a beat.
Rogan just shakes his head, like Tad and I are too much for him. “We need to go,” he grumps. “Like I said before, whoever hexed this place wasn’t trying to kill you, which means they planned on coming back for you. We should go before that happens.”
“I think a better plan is to wait for them. And when they show up, we pounce and fuck ’em up,” I argue.
“Langua—” Hillen starts.
“They almost killed Tad, Aunt Hillen, I think we can let a couple f-words slide when it comes to whoever did it,” I insert before she can finish the admonishment.
She releases a deep, weary sigh. “Fair enough,” she concedes, and Tad’s mouth drops open in complete shock.
“What? She becomes the bones’ pet and suddenly gets a pass?”
Aunt Hillen playfully slaps Tad upsid
e the head, and Rogan and I both snort out a laugh.
“Hey,” Tad objects.
“If you knew more about how to protect yourself,” Rogan starts, “and your vulnerable, magicless aunt and cousin weren’t here, then I would agree that waiting to see who did this would be a good idea, but that’s not the situation we find ourselves in,” he points out, and Tad rubs the back of his head.
I look over at my aunt and then at Tad and realize he’s right. I can’t let anything happen to them. “Is it okay for me to go inside? I need to pack a bag at least for...where are we going?” I press, realizing that I have no idea what the plan is.
“Blackbriar, Tennessee.”
“Well, that sounds ominous,” Tad observes, and I can’t say that I disagree. “What’s in Blackbriar, Tennessee?” he asks me.
“I’ll explain later, but Rogan is right, you and your mom should go. It’s clearly not safe here, and just in case anything else goes down, I don’t want the two of you getting caught in the middle of it.”
“What’s going on, Leni? Why would anyone want to hurt you?” Aunt Hillen questions, her brown eyes apprehensive.
“I’m not sure. That’s what Rogan and I are going to try and figure out. You two go, I’ll call and check in, explain everything when we get to where we’re going.”
She studies me for a moment, her gaze moving from me to Tad and back again. I can see that she’s torn about getting them to safety versus staying here to try and protect me.
“I’ll be okay,” I reassure her. “I’m not completely defenseless,” I tell her, referring to the magic I now have running through my veins, but she looks at Rogan for a moment before relenting.
“I hate leaving you, kiddo,” she states, her voice wobbling with emotion. “I know we’ll just get in the way, which is why I’m going to listen, but I hate the thought of you dealing with any of this on your own.”
I open my arms, and my aunt steps into them, quickly wrapping me up in a strong hug. A second later, I feel Tad encircle us both and squeeze. “I’m not alone, and I promise I’ll just be a phone call away. I’ll keep you updated about everything that’s happening. Hopefully, this will all be over soon.”
