The mood completely shifts after everyone’s had a few more glasses of shine. The men become rowdy and start picking on each other – specifically Ben and Lincoln making fun of Damon. Tessa and Emmy can’t seem to stop laughing while they watch. And then there’s me – the outsider. I’ve taken one small sip from my own glass before I remember that the last drink I had was laced with poison. I immediately hand it over to Lincoln and swear off alcohol forever.
I’m sure, in the long run, I’ll thank myself for quitting. Right now, though, I hate it. I can’t participate in their buzzed shenanigans, not in the same way anyway. I wish I could. Instead I’m trapped in my own head, stewing over things that I can’t change. Things that I don’t know enough about to know how to change.
There’s nothing I can do about the tellings or about my powers. There’s nothing I can do about the people after me or about … anything for that matter. Tessa told me to simply live my life and let these things sort themselves out. The more I think about it, the more I think she’s right.
My thoughts are so absorbing that I don’t see it happen. One moment, Tessa and Emmy are laughing. The next, Tessa is sprawled out in the middle of the living room floor, convulsing while Ben rushes towards her. “What’s happening?” I ask no one in particular. I squat down next to her as Ben brushes hair from her face. A thin stream of blood leaks from her nostrils, flowing down past her lips.
A hand squeezes at my shoulder and I glance up, seeing Lincoln standing behind me. “She’ll be okay,” he says, jerking his head to the side. “Give them space.”
I pry myself off the floor, knowing that there’s nothing I can do to help her. “Should I go find a Healer?”
Lincoln shakes his head as Ben mutters to his mate while she continues to convulse. “Do you remember what happened to me when I touched your scar?” I nod. “Tessa’s power is very similar to mine. The convulsions come when she is having a telling. There’s nothing Ivy or any other healer can do to help her right now. The nose bleeding is normal, the convulsions are normal.”
I glance between the young girl jerking on the floor while her mate can do nothing but sit and wait. His power is like hers? Does that mean it literally feeds off of him as well? That it will kill him?
Tessa’s body stills seconds later. Her eyelids snap open, revealing solid white eyes. Like a puppet being moved by a puppeteer, she turns to face me. She blinks rapidly and her eyes clear. “Violet.”
All the blood drains from my face. I exhale long and slow, preparing myself for what I know is about to happen. She rises to her feet, Ben there to help her if she should need it. She holds out her hand to me. “Come with me,” she says softly.
Holding my hand seems like a necessity for her, seeing as a lot of her body weight is leaning on that link between us. The back garden looks the same is I remember it did the first time I saw it. Twinkling lights are embedded in the shrubs, the grass is neatly cut and stones form a walkway between the back door and the patio set.
Refusing to sit, I start to pace. “Another one?”
She nods in an apologetic way. Her face is pale, cheeks sunken, and dark bags hang below her eyes. “Darkness and light separate and fight. When the war is won the price will mourn and peace shall be bittersweet.”
I stare into one of the magic bulbs, letting the light grow brighter in my eyes until it’s all I see. A third telling – a telling for after the war. The only silver lining here is that that means I’ll survive it, right?
There’s not a chance to think longer on it because Emmy pops her head out of the back door. “The Watcher is here Violet.”
I nod back, happy to have the distraction. “I have to go,” I say to Tessa. “I’ll send Ben out.” She nods and apologizes. I know it’s not her fault any more than it is mine, but that doesn’t keep the weight of whatever this telling means from being piled on my shoulders with the last one. It doesn’t help ease my guilt over her having to pay with her health and body just so that I have whatever warning or guidance is in the tellings.
The moment I open the door to go back inside, Ben barrels past me, eager to check on Tessa. Dressed in his signature black robes, the Watcher stands in the center of the living room floor, his arms crossed at his chest. Emmy jumps up from the couch she’d been sharing with Damon and Lincoln and pulls me into a hug. If it had been anyone else touching me, I probably would have punched them due to how edgy I am right now, but this is Emmy and hugging is part of her. I’ve had no choice but to get used to the contact over the years.
“Are you okay?” she asks, pulling away from me just enough that she can make eye contact with me. I nod, afraid that if I open my mouth I may very well fall apart in tears. Thankfully she doesn’t pressure me for more. “Where are you taking her?” she asks the Watcher. No answer. “When will she be back?” No answer. Shaking her head back and forth she gives up.
“Lincoln will be with me, it should be fine,” I force myself to say. Honestly, I’m with two upper level warlocks and I’m not exactly weak or helpless, so I’m not worried that something bad might happen to me. I gaze around her, and focus on Damon. “If there is a scratch on her head, I will personally take out my anger on you. And I have a massive anger problem.”
His brows furrow together but he stays quiet. After what happened in the Square, I know he can take care of her. After what happened with Adam …
I wander to the Watcher and stand directly in front of him. “Sooner we leave, the sooner we’re done. Let’s go.” Lincoln comes up from behind me, looping his arm around my lower back. The Watcher grabs his shoulder and suddenly I’m thrown into a sea of black and cold.
20
EMMY
The orchard is quiet apart from the chirping of small birds that nest in the massive trees. It smells of honeysuckle and apples and the rustling of the branches is soothing. I come here after work, forcing myself to write down my thoughts in a leather bound journal that Ollie gifted me just the other day. I love journals. I love the way they let you tell all of your tales in truth for only you to see. I love the way the ink slides over the parchment and the way the pages are crisped together. Until I came to Strega, I used to write every day. Now that Violet is away, and without cell phones or online video chats, I thought it would be a good way for her to catch up on in my life and what’s happened once she’s back.
Damon paces through the dozens of rows of trees, staying far enough away that I feel alone and but still close enough that I know I’m not alone. He’s been very adamant about his duties lately, not that he wasn’t before. I think it has a lot to do with what happened to Adam. I have a gut feeling that they were close friends but Damon won’t talk about it and I can see the hurt in his face when I do bring it up.
It’s been a week since Violet left and I still haven’t heard a word from her or anything about where she might be or how she is. This is the longest we’ve ever been separated and it hurts me to think about it. It’s like a part of me is missing without her. I even miss her constant outbursts and rages. No matter how much I tell myself that her being with the Watcher and Lincoln is for the best, it’s hard to fully believe it.
Everything is changing so quietly that keeping up is nearly impossible. It feels like just a few days ago that she was complaining about having to do community service for a speeding ticket and I had to pick her up from jail a few hours later. It wasn’t a few days ago. It’s been weeks. In a matter of weeks, I’ve gone from normal to victim to powerless witch to Alchemist in training.
Ollie helps make everyday life seem normal. He’s probably the only one that I can have a conversation with these days that doesn’t revolve around abilities and war. But he’s also the one cramming my mind and time with potions and ingredients and deadlines for brewing.
He told me only yesterday that we will both be heading out with the soldiers. Maddox wants some of the Alchemists to go so that we can create any last minute potions that the soldiers may need. I don’t fully understand the reasoning b
ehind this, though. The only thing we are making in bulk is healing potions and there are thousands already packed up and put into wagons and ready to go. I asked Ollie a few days ago why that is all we are focused on brewing and his answer was simple: that’s the only usable potion for a battle or a war. There’s nothing else because there has never been a reason to create something else. Now that there is, there’s simply no time.
Closing my leather journal, I tuck the quill in the spine and rise to my feet. The sun is already low and I know that tomorrow will be just as brutal as the last week has been. Damon rushes to my side and together we navigate through the orchard and back to the cobblestone street. The coal burning lamps lining the path are already lit and the streets are bustling with people. Over the last 5 weeks, I’ve rarely seen this settlement quiet. Obviously there are certain areas that are less populated, but for the most part there are always people out and about going about their days and lives.
The closer the soldiers get to leaving, the more crowded the Market seems to be. Family members of those leaving are trying to squeeze in last dinner dates or family time in the park, and tonight is more of the same. Some of the soldiers seem amped up and restless like they are ready to get going. Others seem stressed at the idea of not only leaving their families behind but the possibility of not coming back at all. Damon received his formal orders a few days ago and since then seems to alternate between those two reactions. Sometimes he’s ready to prove himself, other times there’s fear in his eyes.
Tessa is a stickler for schedules and she always has dinner finished and ready to serve by sunset. Knowing that even if I get home early and try to help, she will simply shoo me away, I stop and make small talk with some of the shop and cart owners. I try not to keep them from their responsibilities for long, but still make a conscious effort to ask them how their day has gone and say hello. It seems to make some people smile a bit bigger and rejuvenate them at least a little bit.
Damon follows me as we start to turn out of the Market and into one of the residential areas of the settlement. Dressed in a hunter green dress with golden trim is Seraphina with Grayson at her side. I’ve only met Grayson in passing and only know what Violet deigned to tell me, none of it being good of course. The man has sharp facial features that are muted by his long dirty blonde hair that hangs in dreadlocks to his shoulders. For my 5’3” frame I consider him rather tall, but compared to the normal height of Pensatore members, he’s not.
I tilt my head down slightly as she stops in front of me. “Seraphina.”
Her dark red lips curl into a smile. “I’ve been looking for you for a few hours now. I went to the Lab and they said you had already left for the day.”
“Yes, I …”
“I’m leaving Pensatore tonight. The Reapers as well,” she says, cutting off my words. “I have to go and ensure my soldiers are ready to depart. We will be meeting with Pensatore at the camp outside of the Aetheries settlement.” I go to respond, but she cuts me off again before I have the chance. “I was hoping to talk to both you and your sister before officially leaving. Where is she?”
I hesitate to answer and glance to Damon who simply shrugs. Is her location supposed to be secret? No one told me it was. “I don’t know.”
Her smile disappears, not only from her lips but from her eyes as well, and is replaced with a hint of frustration. “Well, one of the two sisters will have to do then, now won’t it? I wanted to extend the offer for the two of you to return to Rovente with me. Technically it is your birth clan and I can speak for all of our members when I say that you and your sisters presence will be an honor for us all.”
The answer is an easy one. I belong here. I belong with the Alchemists and this clan. Rovente may be part of us but it really isn’t. Violet and I have both made a home here over the past few months. I can only hope that Vi’s answer will be the same as mine. “Thank you for the offer, but …”
“Think about it. Like I said, I will be rejoining Pensatore soon, so if you aren’t ready to make a decision now, perhaps then would be better.”
I try to explain that I don’t need more time but she turns and leaves with Grayson following her every step.
“Weird,” Damon mutters as we continue towards Tessa’s.
The aroma from the house hits me before I even enter. Tessa cooks with so many spices and colors and she could make a fortune off of just her homemade rolls. Once inside, I find her in the kitchen covered in flour, her hair tied back with a bandana-like fabric, wearing her favorite bright red apron and floor length dress. She loves staying at home and providing and wants nothing more than children to raise. Why they haven’t yet started their family, I don’t know and Tessa doesn’t like to talk about it.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her as she starts setting the table. I want to help her, but every time I try she stops me. Damon told me about her ‘illness’, about how the magic she was born with will ultimately destroy her. The more time I spend with her the more clear it is to me. She’s accepted her fate but doesn’t want the pity help from others. I applaud her ability to overlook her bleak future and simply live in the present, enjoying what she still has the ability to do.
“It’s a good day,” she says with an honest smile.
She does look good today. Ever since the newest telling, she’s been struggling but won’t talk about it. There are bags under her eyes and she’s lost a significant amount of weight. Seeing as she didn’t have any to lose to begin with, it’s left her skin and bones. Her joints creak and pop with every movement and she becomes winded doing the simplest of things. It makes my heart ache. Not only for her, but for Ben as well. Her health is hurting him probably more than it is her. I don’t know how long it’ll be before her power claims her life, maybe no one does. The fear I see in Ben’s eyes makes me think it could be soon. Could be any day.
The two of us wait, making small talk in the kitchen, until darkness has fully enveloped the settlement and Ben still isn’t home.
“He’s never this late,” Tessa says, her voice coated in worry.
“There’s just a lot to prepare for,” Damon explains, trying to soothe her. “With Kaleb and Lincoln gone, most of the work is falling on him.”
They’d hoped for the middle brother to return a week ago. In fact, they were already concerned a week ago that he should have already been back. There’s still been no word from Kaleb or the Hunter that went with him. He had been so cocky when he left, so sure that there was nothing to worry about. Had he simply put on a brave face? Pretended that that clan posed no threat to him?
The food is cold, sitting in bowls and plates in the center of the table, taunting us with its fragrance. My stomach rumbles but I ignore it. Damon drums his fingers on the table, staring at the far wall with his lips pursed in boredom. Tessa has tried dozens of times to get up and pace, but her body grinds and the pain shows up in her sunken face and she has to sit down.
Damon and I made an offer about half an hour ago to go out and search for him, but Tessa hissed that that was a ridiculous waste of time and energy. Since then, I can hear her whispering to herself that he’s fine over and over again. I want to comfort her and tell her that there’s nothing to worry about, that it’s like Damon said and he’s just busy. At the same time, I don’t want to offer her a false sense of hope either. There is a threat in this clan. No one has been killed since Adam, but that doesn’t mean that the suspect isn’t still hiding amongst us.
When we hear the front door creak open, all three of us stand up and Tessa calls out her mate’s name. Ben rounds the corner, completely safe and unharmed.
Tessa wraps her arms around his chest briefly before berating him. “Where have you been?”
“Busy,” he answers flatly as he takes his seat at the table, wasting no time to pile a cold steak and vegetable medley onto his plate.
“Told you that’s what it was,” Damon mutters as he does the same.
Ben takes a large bite of steak. He’s normall
y the kind of man that who savor his food, taking his time to enjoy every bite. I don’t know if it’s true, but I tell myself that it’s his silent way of appreciating the work that Tessa put into it. “Maddox and Seraphina told me the date we are leaving today. I had to notify the captains so they could get the word out to the soldiers.”
Tessa sighs then places her fingertips against her lips. “When?”
3 out of the 4 of us sitting at this table will be leaving. Tessa will be left here alone. She’ll have the clan, yes, but she won’t have Ben. She won’t have the brothers helping her. Word has it that most of the Healers are going with us as well, Ivy included. Who will help her? What if Ben doesn’t come back?
Enemy Of My Enemy (Price Of Power Book 1) Page 22
