Funny Tragic Crazy Magic (Tragic Magic Book 1)

by Sheena Boekweg

  I ran the rest of the way to my car. As I drove home, I kept glancing in my rearview mirror, and this black car kept sliding in and out of my lane. My heartbeat started to speed up, and my lead foot made my car speed up as well. I didn’t drive toward my house. Instead (I don’t know why) but I instinctively went the same way the false Erica had driven. When I got to the intersection where the Fake Erica had died, I took a long look both ways before venturing forth. Right before I was going to turn onto the freeway, flashing red and blue lights filled my rear view. I passed the frontage road entrance, pulled into a gas station parking lot, and put my car in park, the engine still idling.

  The police car pulled up behind me and I watched with joy as that black car that had made me so nervous drove past, the driver staring at me as he passed. I let out the breath I had been holding in, and then glanced back at the police car.

  There was a sharp pain against the right side of my forehead. I turned toward the pain of whoever had punched me. A line of runelight slid along the empty seat until I saw Ash’s face from the passenger seat looking down at me, my blood running down the palm of his hand.

  “I’m sorry, Larissa. But you really shouldn’t have told me who you were,” he whispered, his eyes regretful, but a smile lurked on his face. He raised his hand once more.

  That’s the last thing I remember.

  When I woke up, my head felt itchy. I could feel heat from the right side of my face. It was dark, and my vision was blurry. My hands, tied by metal wire, were behind my back.

  “It’s okay, darling, don’t panic.”

  I could hear a man’s voice coming from very close, but I couldn’t see more than a dark outline in the general shape of a man. I felt pressure on both sides of my head, as someone put their hands on my head and squeezed.

  Warmth spread from the man’s hands into my head, and everywhere it touched the pain ceased. It felt like sunshine inside my mind, just wonderful and addictive. My mouth protested when the man took his hands away from my face, and the flow of honey stopped.

  This horrible smell filled my senses; it smelled like body odor, fecal matter, and meatloaf. I opened my eyes. I was in this space between buildings, not an alleyway so much as a forgotten hole, or a badly planned thoroughfare. Five filthy tents lined the edge of the open space, and a bright green door lay off center against a pile of cardboard boxes blocking the only way out. My wrists burned as I tested the thick wire that held them bound.

  The man in front of me sat cross-legged and smiling. His beard was filthy and framed chipped yellowed teeth. His blue eyes had a piercing quality that burned my face and made me sit up tall.

  A fire burned from a metal can, and a clean-shaven man in an expensive suit warmed his hands over the flames. A few more men, including Ash, my math substitute, and the man in a red baseball hat, sat in a circle next to one of the peeling tents. Ash waved at me, smiling as if he just invited me for tea. A pile of cards sat untouched between the men, and they all stared at me as if I was a wild animal, waiting to see if I would swipe my claws at them.

  “Hello,” I said quietly.

  The man sitting in front of me answered, “Hello, Larissa.” I swallowed and glanced at Ash when the man said my name.

  He continued, “We had no idea you existed. Hmm… isn’t that strange? Your own father being one of us, and all?”

  He had this lilting way of talking, almost every sentence sounded like he was asking a question. “If he wasn’t dead, we would have had to punish him? Hmm? For treason, for betraying us to the other side?”

  I held my breath, and the man turned to me. “Oh, dearie, I’m sorry. I’m frightening you. Yes?” His piercing eyes stared into mine, and I could feel heat from his face taking in the side of my neck down to my body. “You are a strong one, you are. Hmm? Do not worry, any harm you come to tonight, I will quickly heal. I have been told my healings are almost worth the pain.”

  He smiled at me modestly, but with expectation, as if he was waiting for me to say something.

  “Thanks for healing me.” I whispered. The man smiled but didn’t seem quite satisfied. I pulled my arms again, testing the strength of the wire that held me bound. “It was very pleasant.”

  The man bowed his head to me like he was the star of some great theatrical.

  “Please, child, call me Leo. Hmm?” He smiled again, his eyes lined with wrinkles as if he was a person who laughed often.

  “Alright,” I said.

  Leo moved far quicker than I expected and backhanded me across the face. I saw a flash of white, then my whole body toppled to the side. My hands tied behind me couldn’t stop the fall, and I gashed the side of my head against the freezing concrete. Searing pain lanced across my face. I swore. Leo hummed a pop song and put his hands on the side of my head.

  The feeling of warm honey poured from his hands through my head. When the pain was gone, he left me lying on my side. I leaned as best I could and sat up, my stomach muscles groaning in protest.

  “Alright, Leo,” the man corrected. He smiled. “Call me by my name. Now, sweetheart,” Leo leaned forward until his forehead touched against mine. His breath smelled foul, like decayed garlic. “You will tell me everything you know. Hmm?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  Luckily I didn’t know much, so the entire interview/torturing didn’t take very long. It was horrible. It was as if the moment I found out my family had died was playing on repeat. Just when I thought I could breath, it would begin again. While Leo hit me, he would giggle, and while he healed me, he would hum and sing. He enjoyed it. He enjoyed asking me questions and then making me answer. He never asked me about Joe, so I was able to keep the fact that he could do runes to myself, as well as the fact that if he did another rune I would have to turn my best friend over to Giara.

  I lay on the ground, bleeding from fresh wounds and waiting for the bliss of Leo’s healings. It didn’t come. My view was blocked by a pile of garbage, but I could see the top half of Leo as he stood and walked over to the man still standing by the fire. The man drew the silence rune on Leo’s hand and his own.

  I knew he was a Rune. I called it by his expensive suit. I pulled against the wire, and it was much looser, although not loose enough I could pull out either of my hands.

  The men sitting on the ground in the circle had returned to their game. Every man looked different, different nationalities, different clothes. I could tell the Instincts from the Runes by the cleanliness of their dress. Ash looked over at me, and maybe this was just wishful thinking, but I thought I saw a look of regret pass his face, as if he didn’t condone what was happening to me. Still, all he did was look; he didn’t try to stop it.

  There was a noise from the side of one of the buildings. Two men were talking, laughing to themselves. A voice I didn’t know called out, “There are some people I would like you to meet.”

  The men sitting in the circle stood and hid their cards. Leo and the wealthy man standing near the fire ran and pulled the pile of garbage over me, so I could hardly see. The garbage bag over my face smelt like diapers, and I couldn’t move enough to free myself from the stench.

  Then a voice I did recognize, a voice I would have known in my sleep, spoke.

  “Hey, let me.” Joe’s voice in this depth of hell seemed like an anchor to save me. I turned my head and tried to pull my body up. The bag shifted a little bit. I could see a bit of Joe’s sneakers, but moving even that insignificant amount had exhausted me enough that I couldn’t speak.

  Joe’s companion, a man I didn’t know, had gray hair and wore a Hawaiian print shirt which hung loose over dark slacks. He had dark skin, and a rolling, smiling way of walking. He put his arm around Joe’s shoulder and faced him away from me.

  “That’s quite a talent you’ve got there, son,” the man said.

  Joe smiled, a blush creeping up his face. His smile gave me the energy I needed to try to move once more.

  The garbage must have rustled, because the man pointed Joe
towards Ash and the men in the back, and then walked towards the pile of refuse that covered me.

  My lungs rejoiced when he pulled the bag from off of my face, but the light was too bright. When my eyes adjusted, all I saw was his dark eyes taking me in, a look of compassion on his face.

  “What are you doing, Leo?” the man asked in a quiet voice. “I’ve told you, no more of this.”

  Leo answered, “Oh Mr. Robert, did you say to not do this, or do do this? Hmm?” He started giggling, that horrible sound that I still dream about some nights.

  Mr. Robert punched Leo across the face, and then bound his mouth with the rune for silence. “You crazy old man, have you no shame?”

  He walked to me and undid the binding on my hands, his body blocking mine from Joe’s view. He pulled me up to sitting and put his hands gently against the part of my face that was bleeding. “You poor thing. I’m so sorry for what has happened to you.”

  I ignored him, “Joe.” My voice cracked. I could hear Joe walking toward me, and when I saw him, a sob broke free.

  “Holy... Larissa!” Joe ran to me and held me, one of his hands behind the back of my neck, the other sliding along the side of my face. “What…I… Are you...” He kept starting sentences that he didn’t finish.

  I shushed him and put my head on his shoulder. I didn’t cry. I’m proud of that, after everything. They didn’t break me.

  “Heal her.” Mr. Robert commanded, lifting up that monster Leo and pushing him toward me. I shrunk back in Joe’s arms, but that man touched me, leaving a feeling of stickiness and sludge as that warm honey feeling slid through my body.

  Joe pushed Leo away from me, and the man fell down on the ground and rolled, his giggle filled the open area as the silence rune ended.

  “The rest of you,” Mr. Robert said, taking in the lot of people that stood by and watched, “how could you allow such an atrocity to take place? She is just a young girl.”

  The wealthy man spoke in a soft British accent, “My apologies Robert, but this is no young girl. This is a Grandmother. We are at war. You did not stand in the way, when young Michael…”

  “You are not to speak of him to me, Miles,” Robert said.

  “You do not like to hear of your failures? Hmmm.” Leo said from the ground. Robert walked to him and kicked him in the stomach.

  Joe whispered in my ear, “Let’s go, Riz.”

  I let him help me stand up, but then I pushed him away. I walked toward the idiots fighting near the fire. I drew the rune for stay in the air as large as my chest and threw it at the men. They all looked at me; even Leo stopped his giggling and went silent. I stood there, furious and still, my shoulders rising and falling with each measured and heavy breath.

  When I spoke, I spoke in whispers. “I was not your enemy.” Leo smiled. “I was not your plaything.” When I looked away, his bottom lip was trembling. “You have made me one.” Ash wouldn’t look me in the eye. “And I do not forget.”

  Robert opened his mouth to speak, and I turned my eyes toward him without moving my face, which shut him up.

  “Leave me alone, and I will return the favor, but if I see any of you…” I’d do what, thin them to death?

  I turned and walked over the cardboard and past the door, leaving them frozen. Joe followed behind me. When we reached his white truck parked along the curb, I swiped my fingers in the air and allowed the rune to fall.

  I leaned against the side of the truck, Joe standing beside me, and that was when I started to cry.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Joe took me home. I sat on my couch, swaddled in the throw blanket, a cup of hot chocolate in my hands. Joe sat next to me, not touching me. His eyes looked over me as if he thought I was an egg about to crack. I put my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around me.

  I’d like to say I could tell you how I felt. I’d like to explain how terrified, defenseless, and broken I felt, beaten at the hands of a crazy man while people stood and watched. While Ash stood and watched. I thought I could trust him. There aren’t words, at least not any words that I know, which can explain that feeling.

  But the worst part was afterward. When I was safe. When I was in my home, protected by the rune on the wall, and in Joe’s arms… I should have felt safe. I should have felt rested and peaceful, comforted inside and out, but I… I felt cold. Empty. My home, and Joe’s presence, didn’t fill the emptiness. All I wanted was that honey feeling, that warm healing feeling Leo benevolently bestowed on me, that pure joy that destroyed everything it touched.

  I wasn’t the same person that I had been that morning, linked arm in arm with my best friend. Joe didn’t understand, and he didn’t ask… I guess he didn’t even know me, not anymore.

  I didn’t even know myself. My family was hiding me from the Grandfathers. My own father was staying distant from me in order to shield me from the eyes of his friends. If my father had been there that night, would he have stood by and watched? Would he have had to?

  They knew that I was my mother’s daughter, and with her gone, the notebook should have been in my hands. They would have been right; they would have been beating a Grandmother, but… I wasn’t enough. The Grandmothers took the notebook from me, because they knew I didn’t have it in me to be one of them. All my planning, all those hours of brainstorming, and searching the internet for clues… Did I even want to find the notebook? Did I want to fulfill my family’s legacy if it meant…

  Joe put his arm under my knees and pulled my legs over his lap. With my head on his shoulder and his arm around my side, it felt almost as if I was a baby. I looked up and smelled him, my nose brushing softly against the underside of his chin. He smelled the same, that woodsy and honey smell that I love so much. I looked up at him, and he just looked straight ahead, not glancing at me, not needing anything from me, just there, there when I needed him.

  I leaned into him again, and instead of my nose brushing against the underside of his chin, it was my lips. Just once. Just one quick kiss that I hoped wouldn’t ruin everything. Joe didn’t move, so I bent into him and kissed him once more in the same place. Joe bit his lip.

  “Riz...” he said, and I could hear the ‘no’ in his voice.

  “Please,” I whispered. “Please, I don’t want to think anymore.”

  Joe looked down at the ground, and he sighed. Was I that hideous to him? What was wrong with me? Tears itched as they ran down my face. Joe moved his hand from behind my knees and ran his fingers against the side of my face, his thumb brushing the tears away. He bent down and kissed my forehead, his lips softer than I expected.

  He sat back tall, and his fingers brushed where he had kissed, and then tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear. His eyes found mine at last, and there was a question there. I lifted my hand and brushed my fingers against the side of his face, feeling his eyebrows, the wrinkle of concern in the arch above his nose, and then back alongside his hairline. I bent into him, kissed his cheek, and then held my cheek against his as he kissed the underside of my jaw.

  I put my head back on his shoulder, and took a breath.

  He said my name with more tenderness than he has ever shown me, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood out. His sunflower eyes searched into mine and then he leaned and put his lips next to mine.

  And then he kissed me.

  I just want to stop there. I want to stay in that moment in my memory, package it up, and hold it in. It makes me smile, just remembering how perfect it all was, how natural. How much it felt like… home. I can’t explain it, I just want to sit here and feel it again.

  It wasn’t a long kiss, and when Joe pulled away, I wanted more. I put my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. I brushed his cheekbones with my thumb.

  “I…” he started, his eyes turned away from me.

  “What?” I asked, smiling.

  “I can’t do this.”

  “Tough.” I touched his nose with the hand not enwrapped in his hair.

  “
Larissa…” Where was the tenderness he used when he said it before? My name felt flat as it fell from his lips. Felt foreign. “It’s just that this means something different for me, than it does for you.”

  “Oh.” I moved my hand from his hair feeling deflated. Each second I sat there, close to Joe, the feeling in the room and inside my heart grew more and more awkward. He just sat there, as if expecting me to say something, give him some kind of response, but what could I say? Sorry I’m not good enough for you. Sorry for wanting something you can’t give?

  I moved the blanket and walked into the kitchen for a glass of water. When I came back into the room, Joe was gone. The cup that had held the hot chocolate which brought me a measure of comfort was on its side. It was empty.

  I walked up to my room and lay down on my bed, pulling the blankets over my head so I didn’t have to face the world. Inside, I still longed for that sick honey healing, and for Joe’s perfect kiss, both of which threatened to reach inside and destroy me. With a smile on my face, I would let either one of them destroy me just so I could feel something.

  Behind my closed eyes, I could see Leo giggling, and then moving so quickly to destroy me. In my mind, Joe stood behind Ash, watching my torture, and not moving or doing anything to stop it.

  He just looked at me, and mouthed the words, “I can’t.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  The next day, things were awkward. But I tried to pull myself together enough to go to school, to face the normalcy of the day and the dreaded extra distance that Joe put between us. I loved him. I knew that. I knew that now more than I ever knew it before.

  Mostly though, as I walked through the crowded rube-filled halls of my high school, I was angry. People wouldn’t look me in the eye; they shied away from me, gave me space to pass by them. I wasn’t angry with anyone in particular, I was pissed with myself for not knowing more, for not being able to defend myself. For allowing myself to be a ragdoll, tossed around.