Magic Untamed

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Magic Untamed Page 9

by J. N. Colon


  His gaze reluctantly broke away from the brujo, landing on me. “I don’t like this.”

  I scoffed. “You don’t like anything.” Etie had no reason to be jealous. No one could hold a candle to the voodoo caster. And that was before our souls were intertwined. Now, I wasn’t even sure I was capable of liking other guys.

  Étienne Benoit had ruined me, and I wasn’t all that mad about it.

  A growl rumbled in his chest, and he gave me one last steely glare before he spun around and marched away. The living room door slammed shut as he stalked out.

  The tension in the air thinned, and everyone took a breath of relief. I, on the other hand, felt anxious already. Was it the sudden lack of Etie’s presence, or was it this new chapter in my life? I was about to learn how to be a witch.

  “That went well.” There was no mistaking the sarcasm in my sister’s voice.

  “How did you expect it to go?” I shot my mother and Abuela a look. “You could have warned me. You knew Etie wouldn’t react well to this.”

  “Of course not.” Marisol snorted on a laugh and stole the half-eaten cinnamon roll off my mom’s plate. “Would you look at this hot man witch?”

  A blush crossed Lucas’s cheeks, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “We should probably get started.” He angled his body toward the attic door and looked at me from beneath thick lashes. “Shall we?”

  “Let’s go.” The slap of my flip flops against the creaking wooden stairs was louder than usual, making each beat of my heart more frantic.

  Why was I so nervous? This was what I wanted.

  The boxes and discarded furniture had been pushed to the edges of the attic. The pentagram was painted a fresh white, vivid against the hardwood floor. The three interlocking crescent moons were a gleaming shade of silver.

  My eyes widened at the shelves that used to line the walls attracting dust and critters. They were now positioned in the center and filled with books, an assortment of witchy devices, and containers of ingredients. “Where did all this stuff come from?”

  “Most of it was here. I also brought some.” He stood next to the bookshelf, picking up one of the older books. “This is one of your family’s grimoires.”

  My curiosity was piqued, and I hurried over. I knew from television and movies that a grimoire was a book of spells. I carefully took it and opened it to one of the thick, manila pages. Beautiful calligraphy was scrawled across the page. “Is this a spell?”

  Lucas glanced over my shoulder so close that his warm, minty breath brushed down my neck. “It’s a spell to cure boils.”

  My face contorted. “Oh, gross.”

  He chuckled. “In the past, a lot of witches worked as healers, curing various illnesses.”

  I blew a long, deep breath and placed the grimoire back on the shelf. Some of the other books resembled ones at Madame Monnier’s, only they were a few decades older. “This is a lot to take in.” Magic had been under my nose—in my house—most of my life.

  Lucas’s hand landed on my shoulder, the weight of it gentle and comforting—calming even. “I know this is a lot. You’ve been told your whole life you were normal, then suddenly an entire world of magic is surrounding you.” His brown eyes melted again. “I don’t know what that feels like, but I promise I’m going to help you any way I can.”

  My eyes burned, and I rapidly swallowed to force the lump of emotion down. “Thanks.” My voice was rough as I neared the verge of tears. Not even Marisol knew how I felt. Her powers weren’t trying to take her over and destroy her sanity. Etie knew the struggle, but Lucas could tell me things he couldn’t—things about where I came from.

  A warm smile spread over his lips. “How about we start from the beginning?”

  “Sounds good.” My words were so soft I wasn’t sure he heard them.

  “According to Milagro, you know next to nothing about witchcraft.”

  “If you have a Witchcraft for Dummies, that would be great.” I shook my head and ran my finger across a row of older, tattered books. “Abuela and my mother haven’t been very forthcoming with information.”

  Lucas winced. “I heard. They were trying to deal with this the best way they knew how. Now, they know better.”

  Yeah, thanks to the crazy storm I started in the cemetery last night and Etie’s lecturing afterward.

  “Let’s talk about witches in general.” His gaze traveled the shelves surrounding us. “All witches can cast written spells and make potions using what you see here. Some spells take more practice, mastery, and even more power to perform.”

  I pictured myself dressed as a fairy princess when I was seven, waving a wand around, pretending I was doing magic. “So a little kid couldn’t perform a really difficult spell?”

  Lucas shrugged. “Not unless they were born powerful.”

  Witchcraft was like voodoo in that way. Casters could master voodoo with time, practice, and dedication. And then, there were bokors who were simply born capable of much more than normal.

  “For instance, if you had grown up with your powers, at ten years old you would have been able to do a lot of things most adults could never dream of.” He laughed at the grimace spreading across my face. “It’s not a bad thing.”

  “I’d rather be normal.” I hated being in the spotlight, and these powers were like a high-wattage, never-ending beam shining down on me.

  “Trust me, no one’s really normal.” A twinkle lit his brown eyes. “I might be an even bigger freak than you.”

  I fought back a smile. “Yeah, right.”

  “You’ll see.” He turned to the shelf, searching for something. “Ah.” He pulled out a hardback book and handed it to me. “You might want to read this in your spare time.”

  My finger traced the gold-embossed title. Witches & Telekinesis.

  “All witches have some degree of telekinesis,” Lucas explained. “They’re able to move objects without using a spell or spoken command.” He flicked his hand, and the book flew from my grip and landed on a table in the corner.

  My eyes widened. “Woah! I can make things move with my mind?” Scenes from the horror movie Carrie bubbled up. I hoped no one poured pigs blood on me. I’d probably do way worse than her.

  “Sure—with a little practice. Another more difficult talent closely related to telekinesis is the ability to concentrate energy and use it as a weapon.” He lifted his hand, and his eyes shifted from soft brown to a vibrant purple. Sparks formed between his fingertips and grew until his entire palm was cupping a violet ball of churning, crackling energy.

  A gasp escaped my mouth. The hair on my arms stood on end from the power pulsating around him. If I hadn’t been wearing the nivum talisman, more than a little light flickering would be happening. “That’s amazing.” I reached out to touch it.

  Lucas quickly curled his fingers, extinguishing the purple ball. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Right.” I shoved my hands in my pockets to keep them out of trouble. “I’d end up demolishing the entire attic.”

  “Not likely.” Lucas flashed a smile, unleashing a set of perfect dimples. “I was worried you’d get burned.”

  “Oh.” I gave a nervous laugh. “Thanks.”

  “Anytime.” The purple in his eyes began to fade back to brown, and something indecipherable flashed over his expression. “I’d never hurt you, Angel. I promise.”

  I swallowed hard and shifted awkwardly at his suddenly intense stare. “Um, okay.” We’d just met. I didn’t expect him to pledge his undying loyalty to me or anything.

  Lucas cleared his throat and turned away, pulling out a large, ancient tome. “Covina de Validus.”

  My brows dipped. “Coven of the powerful? What is that?”

  “That’s the name of our coven.” He opened the book, showing a list of names in faded calligraphy. “These are all the members of the coven since the beginning.”

  My eyes landed on a familiar name one level from the top. “Uncle Ferdinand! That creepy paintin
g in the hall near my room?”

  Lucas’s chuckle was buttery smooth and sweet. “That’s him. He was the son of Penelope De la Mora, the matriarch and founder of Covina de Validus.”

  My head snapped back “My ancestors created the coven?”

  He nodded. “A member of your family has always been the head of our organization of witches. Your father—” He pulled up short.

  I waved my hand in the air. “It’s okay. You can talk about him. My grandmother told me he was the leader.” I glanced at the other names and turned the page, more curling lines stretching across the paper. “Who’s the head now? My dad didn’t have any brothers or sisters. A cousin of his or something?”

  “Yeah, something like that.” He flipped to the very last written page. Marisol and Evangeline were written beneath Cristóbal. “But it’ll eventually go to the rightful heir, who would be you or your sister.”

  I scoffed and handed him the book back. “I don’t think I could rule over a coven. I can’t even control my own powers.”

  “You don’t give yourself enough credit, Angel.” Lucas tucked the book back into its spot on the shelf. “Once you get the hang of this, I bet you’ll think differently.”

  I think not.

  “We’ll see,” I mumbled, crossing my arms against my chest. “The coven is located in Virginia?”

  “Yes.” Lucas jerked his head toward the pentagram on the floor. “Come on.”

  I followed him and took a seat in the center, the shimmering silver crescent moons between us.

  “Do you have any idea what the three moons symbolize?” he asked, running his finger over one of them.

  “The power of three?” I joked. I’d seen the symbol in Madame Monnier’s and on that website I stumbled across, so it wasn’t exclusive to our coven.

  Those dimples flashed again. “Body, mind, and soul. Our magic is ingrained in each one, and they all work together to shape our powers.” Lucas’s hand reached out, hovering over my chest so close warmth radiated from his palm. “If one is injured or weakened, it’ll affect our magic just as our emotions do.”

  Did being bound to Etie affect my powers, too?

  As if Lucas read my mind, he nodded. “Being tied to the bokor will influence your magic, but I’m not sure how. A soulbind like this is rare among voodoo casters, and it’s even less common between witches and voodoo casters.”

  I swallowed a hard lump in my throat. What would my powers do to Etie?

  “You’re a strong conduit,” Lucas continued. “Nothing is going to be common about this bind.”

  All the more reason to learn how to control this crap.

  His hand dropped back to his side. “I haven’t met a conduit before, but I’m used to working with other witches who have trouble managing their powers.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s my specialty. Most witches are born with a specific talent or skill that usually appears when they’re young.” He brushed those lustrous honey locks out of his face. “You’re a conduit. Your grandmother is a seer. Your father was an elemental.”

  My head cocked to the side at the foreign word. “An elemental?”

  He nodded. “An elemental can control earth, air, wind, and fire.”

  “Wow. My dad must have been a kickass brujo.” I tried picturing him working some magic mojo, but all I could see were the memories of my childhood. I only knew him as a loving father, not the head witch of a coven.

  Lucas’s gaze dropped to the floor. “I’m sure he was.” He cleared his throat and steered us back on topic. “I’m a diffuser.”

  My lip curled thinking of an attachment to my hairdryer. “A what?”

  “I can weaken or diffuse magic, make it less potent.” His soft brown eyes lingered over me, something unreadable glinting in them. “I’m the opposite of a conduit.”

  “Oh.” I could see why Lucas was sent here to train me. “You can stop me from turning into a magic tornado?”

  He winced. “To an extent. I’m going to teach you how to keep yourself in check.”

  That seemed like an impossible task.

  “A conduit is like a sponge. They absorb powers, but they should be able to control when they do.” Lucas ran his hand over the space in front of me, lines creasing his forehead. “You aren’t capable of that because you have no protection.”

  My brows met. “Protection?”

  “Think of it like this. Antennae are used to pick up radio waves and transmit them. Imagine millions of tiny antennae all over you.”

  He gently gripped my arm, running his fingers down to my wrist. His fingers were warm like Etie’s but much smoother. No electric tingle accompanied his touch. I suspected that was unique to the Cajun Casanova.

  “Right now, you’re picking up every ounce of power lingering in the air, drawing it into you. Sometimes you unknowingly connect with a magical being as well, borrowing their energy.” He dropped my arm. “Those familiar with conduits and how they work will immediately recognize you as one. The bind around your powers protected you, but now you’re out in the open.”

  My blood chilled as I thought of my little visit to Madame Monnier’s. If she had known what I was, she didn’t say anything. Would Etie’s friends Dumarsais and Marcus know if I saw them again?

  “Will I ever be able to leave Carrefour?” The thought of remaining here for the rest of my life made me feel like a caged animal.

  Lucas offered a weak smile. “Of course you will. I’m going to teach you how to construct barriers so you won’t be a walking sponge.”

  “How?”

  “You need to take that off.” He touched the leather strap holding the nivum talisman around my neck. “It’s helping dull your receptors, but we need them at full force to practice this.”

  My pulse jumped as images of last night crashed through my mind. “I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

  Lucas’s fingers wrapped around mine. “It’ll be okay. I promise. As soon as we’re done practicing, you can put it back on.”

  I chewed on my lip and then hesitantly removed the necklace, handing it to him. Lucas used magic to make it soar across the attic, landing next to the book about telekinesis.

  “Now what?” I felt exposed without my new security blanket.

  A hint of violet colored his brown eyes. “I want you to imagine thick walls around yourself.”

  My brow arched. “Seriously?”

  “It’s not hard,” Lucas assured. “Just concentrate.”

  I groaned. “I hate when people say that. What does that even mean? Am I supposed to just stare at you with a constipated look?”

  Lucas chuckled and unleashed those symmetrical dimples. “Sure, you can start there.”

  I shook my head. We were going to be here all day.

  Chapter 11

  A knock echoed on my door, and my mother poked her head in. “Can I come in?”

  “Sure.” I texted Lana one last time before dropping my new phone on the bed beside me. After I disappeared on her and Riley in the Department Store and never answered their calls or texts, they were ready to send a search party for me. I told them part of the truth. I ran into Trisha Belmont and stormed out.

  My mom hesitantly sat on the edge of my bed. She’d traded in her usual scrubs for a t-shirt and comfortable yoga pants. Her hazel eyes scrutinized me, searching my face for something. A forced smile crossed her stilted expression. “How was your lesson with Lucas?”

  “Fine.” We’d stayed in the attic for hours while I practiced forming a barrier. Once I was finally able to do it, Lucas began pouring his magic around me. The walls were pretty thin so they crumbled fast at first. By the end, I was able to keep them up for a good five minutes before they fell and my conduit receptors latched onto the magic.

  It was a start.

  “He’s nice, right?” She nervously fumbled with a throw pillow I’d tossed to the end of the bed.

  I gave a noncommittal shrug. “Sure.”

  Her gaze fell to
the comforter, and a heavy silence stretched. There had never been so much tension and awkwardness between us. Up until a few weeks ago, my mom and I were close. Now it felt like we were two strangers.

  “Angel, I’m so sorry for everything,” she finally said, her voice trembling. “I never meant for any of this to happen. All I wanted was to keep my baby girl safe.” She quickly blinked as moisture filled her eyes.

  My chest tightened. “I know.” What would I have done in her position? Parents didn’t always make the right choices. I couldn’t fault her for being human.

  She grabbed my hand, squeezing it. “I’m sorry for not listening to you sooner.” She swallowed hard. “I should have paid attention. You were telling me, begging me, for help, but I just wanted things to go back to the way they were.”

  “They can’t.” My powers would never be shoved back down, no matter how hard they tried.

  My mom nodded, tucking auburn strands behind her ear with her free hand. “I’m just so afraid for you.” She brushed an escaped tear from her cheek. “If the wrong person finds out you’re a conduit—a very powerful one—they’ll try to use you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”

  I sighed. I couldn’t promise her that would never happen. I couldn’t tell her I’d never be in danger because chances were, it could happen. “I can learn how to use my powers to protect myself,” I said. “Lucas is going to teach me.”

  “Your grandmother spoke very highly of him and his family.” She released my hand, leaving hers on the bed between us. “I think he’s exactly what you need.”

  “And I have something no other conduit ever had.” I tried not to smile as I thought of Etie. “I have a pouvior bokor protecting me.”

  She grimaced at the mention of Etie. “I’m not so sure you and he are the best for each other. You both have such volatile powers.”

  I rolled my eyes. Etie could save a baby from a burning car, and she’d still find something bad to point out about his heroics. “He knows how to handle those powers. And he’d do anything to protect me. You have to know I’m safe from practically anything when I’m with him.”

 

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