by Kristie Cook
“Wait,” I say, struggling to get myself back under control. I wipe at my tears with my sleeve. “There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” When he doesn’t answer, I plow forward. “Remember how … that first day? There were three shifts?”
“I remember,” he says so quietly I have to press the phone close to hear him.
“Those weren’t all because of Jonah. That last one? It was me finding you.”
When I get back, Jonah is in his backyard, reading a book in a hammock. I crawl in next to him, my heart a hammer in my chest. He senses this immediately. But, as nervous as I am, I don’t hesitate to tell him about my trip to see Ronald, and my subsequent call to Kellan. He deserves to hear this, and he deserves to hear it from me. I leave nothing out … except the truth about the third shift.
Somehow … that’s just mine and Kellan’s to know. It’s hard to explain, but I want to keep that one to myself, to symbolize the bond I have with Jonah’s brother. My Connection to Kellan is strong—there’s no doubt about this at all. But the one with Jonah is stronger.
It just is.
Jonah listens to everything without comment, taking it all in to process before saying anything. “I can feel how this is hard for my brother, and I feel guilty that I’ve resented his feelings for you,” he says. “But now I can see he never had any control over it at all.”
He sounds so rational about the whole thing, I begin to worry. “Are you angry? About me having two Connections? One to him, too?”
“I’m not thrilled about it,” he says slowly, “and … I’m upset, yeah. It’s going to take some time to wrap my mind around all of this. But I finally understand why you two have had a hard time turning away from each other. That it wasn’t because you were trying to hurt me—”
Startled, I say, “I would never purposely try to hurt you!”
“I know.” His head comes to rest against my shoulder. “I mean, I never really thought you did. But I had a really hard time accepting why you two just wouldn’t let go of each other. It makes sense now. It’s …” He trembles, just a little bit. “So screwed up.”
“Fate sucks,” I say, trying hard not to cry. Which is stupid, because he knows I’m upset, and even worse because he knows it’s over his brother.
“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Sometimes, it really does.”
chapter 58
Cora isn’t the only person delirious in love. The coming of summer and warm weather seems to trigger a wild rash of pheromones amongst our loved ones. Meg and Alex are inseparable, even nauseating, with their frequent displays of PDA. I never thought I’d ever accuse Alex of being overly affectionate in public, but man, is he ever.
Lizzie and Graham fall deeper in love every day. Inspired, Jonah and I decide to help them, as they haven’t yet found a way around the Council’s rules. Despite everything that’s happened recently, I don’t mind when Jonah calls Astrid for advice. He tells me how Lizzie and Graham’s situation hits close to home for Astrid, how it reminds her of Callie’s parents, and how, just maybe, if someone had been there to help them, they might not have died.
I don’t know how she does it, but Jonah gets news one afternoon telling us that as long as Graham will consent to taking the blood oath as soon as possible, things might very well work out for my friend and her boyfriend. Sharing this good news with them is magic in itself—I’ve never seen Lizzie so happy. They leave right away for Annar, where one of Astrid’s assistants will be waiting to take them to Karnach for the oath ceremony.
“That,” I tell Jonah as I watch Lizzie and Graham leave, hand in hand, “was incredibly awesome of you.”
He watches them, too, as our fingers entwine together. “She’s your family,” he says. “And that means she’s mine, too.”
This is who Jonah is. He is generosity, love, and loyalty all wrapped in one. Fate may suck sometimes, but in other instances, it can be so wonderful that I would get down on my knees and offer thanks if I could.
Another person Jonah welcomes into his life without reservations is Caleb. He’d met my friend and Conscience a number of times over the last half-year but had never gotten the opportunity to grow closer. But now, in our month of freedom, he and Caleb have the chance to get to truly know one another, outside of my head and my viewpoints. And Caleb genuinely likes him, which means the worlds to me.
All this makes me think a little more about how I need to pay more attention to those around me. That even though I’ve been consumed by my own personal soap opera dramas, the people around me keep moving forward with life, and if I want to remain relevant in their spheres, I better make myself worthy.
Every so often, I ask Jonah questions about his brother and how he’s doing. Jonah says Kellan’s already talked to the Guard, delaying his move until a month after ours. He’s going to take that trip after all, to go out and find those monstrous waves to conquer.
“Are you jealous?” I ask while we’re at the beach one afternoon, two days before we’re set to move to Annar. Jonah’s been attempting to teach me to surf, as Kellan had never gotten around to showing me since Karl and Giuliana left little time for us to even try something like this. I’m horrible at it, barely able to stand up even in baby waves, but it’s still something that I like doing because we can do it together.
“A little,” he admits. “I mean, I’d like to try that someday, too. But, I’d rather be here with you.”
He’s sincere—and things are good between us now. Better than ever, actually. We don’t have the distractions of the Guard watching our every move. We now have the luxury of hanging out with the Cousins after school, going to movies, on dates, hanging out at the beach … all of the good stuff, because, finally, it’s just him and me, eighteen and pretending the weight of the worlds aren’t resting on our shoulders.
At first, our parents had all been furious at our decision to dismiss the Guard, but they’ve mostly come around. Jonah’s dad eventually just ignored the issue—he’s now spending all his time in Annar. And with Kellan and Giuliana both gone, that left Jonah alone in his huge house, despite Astrid’s urging to come and live with her. My parents surprisingly felt bad about that, insisting he move into our spare bedroom for the time being after they discovered he’s my Connection. It’s not like we’ve begun doing family things—that’ll never change, but even still … I take it as a good sign from them, that they know he’s a permanent presence in all our lives. At lunch one Saturday, my mother even, in passing, refers to our future marriage and questions us on our upcoming move to Annar. I’m told my grandmother set aside a trust for me, one that’ll help me find an apartment when I move there. I’ve already decided to not live with my parents. Instead, Jonah and I will move into apartments next door to one another so we can be close at all times.
My mother and I have even started to talk to each other a little. It isn’t warm and loving as many mother-daughter talks, but it’s something.
It’s a start.
“You may not feel the same once I’m out there,” I laugh, in answer to what Jonah said.
He merely smiles, letting me know he’ll be happy to be with me there, whether or not I’ll ever get the hang of it.
And then I ask him how Kellan is dealing with things lately.
“I think this trip is his way of figuring stuff out,” he says, shoving long, black locks out of his eyes. “Did he ever really explain to you what happens when we’re surfing?”
“I’d rather hear it from you,” I say, and it’s the truth.
This makes him smile. “When we finally find ourselves as part of the whole, then our minds sort of expand into everything, as well, to find clarity. Any answer we want is there, no matter the difficulty. You may not like what you find, but it’s there all the same. Our uncle told us of a place where he was able to finally find the inner peace he’d always been seeking. He had a lot of inner demons, things I won’t go into here,
but … when he came back from there, he seemed more at peace with himsel
f. Kellan recently found a letter he’d written to us before his death, detailing where this break is. That’s where he’s going.”
“He said it was in the ocean, far from the shore …”
“Yes. He’ll have to take a boat to the spot.”
“Is it dangerous?”
Jonah doesn’t lie to me. “He sees the payoff as worth the risk.”
“Will he be safe?”
The questions don’t bother Jonah, because he accepts now that, despite everything, I’m always going to love and worry about Kellan. “I hope so,” he admits. “He’s a good surfer—he’s strong. Our uncle taught us well.”
We stand up and grab our boards. Just as we’re about to walk to the water, I ask, “Do you think I’ll find any answers out there?”
“Are there things you want to know right now?”
For once, at least for today, I find myself question free. Because I’m good—I’m here with my Connection, the sun is shining, and I’m at peace with who I am. I’m not worrying about the future or the piles of expectations waiting for me on another plane. The only thing I really have to worry about in this moment is standing up on my board. If I don’t, it’s no skin off my nose, because I can try again. And if I do stand up, it’s sweet icing on the cake.
“Nope,” I tell him.
He kisses me, and I shiver, because even now, after so many years together, he still has this power over me. “You ready for this?” he asks, and I know he means more than just surfing.
Can anybody be truly ready for their future? We can only do what we can. Someday soon, there’s going to be a lot expected of me. I’m going to be asked to influence all of the worlds. I may be asked to destroy things. There are so many ifs, so many maybes that a person can go crazy thinking about them all.
But today is all about this moment. Because that’s what life is really all about. A series of moments strung together. We do our best to deal with what we have at any given second.
Today is a good day. Today is filled with love and acceptance. I turn my face toward the water, feeling the salty air against my cheeks. I close my eyes, savoring it all, and smile.
There are no guarantees, except as Ronald says, birth and death. So I guess I’m as ready as I ever can be.
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Catalyst
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Jennifer Snyder
PROLOGUE - Good Reason
Angela Avery snuggled the soft, warm body that was wrapped tightly inside a pink fleece blanket close to her chest. The little girl she held was perfect in every way. Peeling the edge of the blanket back once more, Angela allowed herself a glance at her beautiful baby girl. She stared at her chubby, rose-colored cheeks and her tiny button nose as she gently ran the tips of her fingers through her darling daughter’s feather-soft, caramel-colored hair. It would darken one day to be the same shade as her own; Angela knew this without any doubt because she had glimpsed the future—her daughter’s future—not so long ago.
It had been a game really; at least that was how she had thought of it that day, a bit of entertainment for herself, a little more magick in her life. She had been foolish to think that way—Angela knew this now. She should have stuck with creating energy balls, stone magick, or even candle magick—but she hadn’t. She’d been too interested in clairvoyance and seeing the future. Angela frowned as she remembered the things she had hoped to see that day—herself married and living happily ever after. The vivid clip of her vision from that day flashed through her mind involuntarily for the millionth time since she’d first witnessed it. Closing her eyes, Angela took in a deep breath and pushed the image away, sealing it behind a door in her mind once more.
The little girl snuggled up against Angela and released the most peaceful-sounding sigh imaginable. Contentment relaxed the delicate features of the sleeping baby’s face even more, and a tear trickled from the corner of Angela’s hazel eye as she realized this would be the only time she’d ever be able to hear that tiny sigh of contentment. Footsteps sounded from down the hall. Angela wiped the tears from her eyes and straightened her back. She would not let her final moments with her daughter be tainted by the harsh reality of what she was doing. There was a reason for this, she reminded herself, a good reason.
“I’m doing this to save you,” she whispered aloud, more to tame her guilt and ease her conscience than for her daughter’s tiny ears.
Bending down, she kissed her darling daughter and whispered her name, “Addison Avery.” It was a good name, a beautiful name, and even though Angela didn’t want her daughter to be exposed to the type of lifestyle she had grown up in, it didn’t mean that she wanted to give up on all family traditions. This was why she had chosen a first name for her daughter that began with the letter A, same as hers and every woman on her side of the family, as well as passed down the family last name of Avery. She saw it as a way to give her child a little piece of herself, a tiny piece of her biological family to take with her through life.
The footsteps paused outside the entrance to Angela’s room; time with her daughter was nearing an end. Rewrapping the blanket snugly around Addison’s tiny frame, Angela kissed her daughter for the last time on the forehead and whispered, “You are safe, you are whole, you are well. Guided by the light of the Goddess and the God, may happiness come to you wherever you dwell.”
The door slowly creaked open and in walked the plump older lady who had helped with the delivery. Her lips twisted into a sympathetic smile as she crossed the room to stand beside Angela’s bed.
“It’s time, Miss Avery,” the older woman said as she extended her arms for the delicate pink bundle Angela held. “You’re doing the right thing, honey. Don’t beat yourself up thinking you’re not. As young as you are, there’s no way you could raise this little bundle all by yourself.”
If only she knew, Angela thought to herself, how right of a thing she was actually doing. Pulling her newborn daughter tighter against her chest, Angela traced her eyes over every soft curve, every patch of pink skin, memorizing even the most minute details.
“I love you, little Addison Avery. That’s why I’m doing this, because I love. I hope one day you’ll understand,” Angela said as she passed over the bundle that was her daughter. Tears blurred her vision and dripped from her chin.
Angela watched as the elderly woman turned and exited the room, closing the door tightly behind her and sealing Angela away from her daughter forever. She reminded herself of the reasons she was doing this, of the reasons she’d given her child up for adoption. The vivid image of a grown-up Addison falling into choppy ocean waters and dying flashed behind her closed eyelids.
As more tears than she ever thought possible flowed from her eyes, Angela prayed silently that the spells she’d done to counteract her daughter’s early death and the fact that she’d given her away would be enough to save her from the magick that stirred within her hometown, the magick that stirred within her.
CHAPTER ONE - Aduro Street
The salty air clung to my skin, making me sticky with sweat. I hadn’t remembered it being this humid when I came a few months back with Mom and Dad. I’d always heard summers in the Deep South were horrendous. Living in North Carolina, though, I’d never bared witness to one that seemed complain-worthy yet. I loved the heat. But as I continued on the narrow interstate toward Soul Harbor, Georgia, I was beginning to see there was an inconceivable difference between summer in North Carolina and summer in southern Georgia. One I duly noted as I rolled down the window of my nineties-model Jeep Grand Cherokee farther, letting even more of the thick, humid air roll in.
“I can’t believe you inherited a house,” Vera said from beside me in the passenger seat as she twisted her long blond hair up into a knot on top of her head. “That is still so freaking insane to me!”
I reached over for the bottle of water I’d bought at our last stop and placed it between my thighs, so I could twist the cap off one-h
anded. “I know. Trust me, it still hasn’t sunken in yet,” I said before taking a swig of the cool water and replacing the cap.
“I bet.” Vera nodded and then popped another pretzel into her mouth from the bag sitting in the cup holder between us. “Only fifteen more miles to go!” she squealed, leaning forward to read the GPS.
Fifteen more miles, a tiny prick of nervousness pierced my mind. In fifteen more miles I would be pulling into the crumbling concrete driveway of the house I’d randomly inherited nearly three months ago from my biological mother. Why she gave me up for adoption at birth and then turned around and willed me her mother’s house upon her death baffled me still.
“So, exactly how close is this house of yours to the beach?” Vera asked as she manually rolled down her window all the way and flung one arm out to ride the wind.
“Super close,” I muttered as I listened to the GPS tell me to turn right in 500 yards. I prayed silently that the exit I saw up ahead was the correct one and not the one I was just about to pass. My GPS and I weren’t always the best of friends, especially not on this trip. In the five-and-a-half hour drive from Linfrank, North Carolina, to Soul Harbor, Georgia, I’d managed to get us lost three separate times, even with the use of a GPS.
“I can’t wait to just chill out on the beach with you for the next two weeks!” Vera said, pulling her arm in so she could open the Mountain Dew bottle that sat in her lap. “I just wish I could stay longer.”
I cut a right, following the GPS’s orders, onto Sunny Street. “I know; me too.”
“Oh my God, this place is so stinkin’ cute!”
I smiled. “Read the street signs. They cracked me up when we came last time.”
“Sunny Street … Sky Lane … Forrest Road … Ocean Cliffs … Heritage Hollow …” Vera read as we continued toward my house. “Look at this place; it’s like Pleasantville or something.”
