by Vicki Leigh
Kayla stared at the wall next to her and bit her bottom lip. She wrapped her arms around her stomach.
I touched her leg. “Hey, you’re going to be okay.”
She nodded. Then she shook her head and the tears overflowed. She covered her face with her hands.
Scooting closer to her, I pulled her to me, and she buried her face in my neck. I kissed the top of her head and stroked her arm with my thumb, trying to soothe her as best I could.
“Is my mom…?” She didn’t finish her sentence.
“She’s safe. Her Protectors have been alerted and will let us know if anything happens.”
“God, she must be so terrified, thinking I’ve gone missing.”
“We staged the house so it looks like you left of your own accord. Your mother will be fine. Once we’re positive you’re safe, we’ll take you home.”
Kayla nodded and wiped at her nose.
“Hey, how would you like to see the city?” I asked.
She looked up at me and spoke with a shaky voice. “But isn’t that dangerous? I mean, with the warlock out there and everything.”
I shook my head. “This is our home city. There are Catchers and Weavers all over the place. There isn’t a safer place on Earth for you.”
When she nodded, I kissed her and left to shower and change. After the attack, she needed something to lift her spirits.
n hour later, we met outside her room. When Kayla emerged, her long, dark hair fell in waves down her back, and she donned a light blue, spaghetti-strap dress. Her eyelids were covered in a shimmery, gold shadow that made her irises pop. She looked just as radiant as she had the night I took her to Paris. I smiled, silently thanking Tabbi for stocking the room with girly things, and held out my hand for Kayla to take.
Kayla was only on the eighth floor out of the total twelve stories, but I gave her a quick tour of the lower levels as we passed through each of them. And when we reached the grand foyer, her jaw slacked. I chuckled, leading her out the front door.
We walked hand-in-hand past the pink, orange, yellow and cream-colored buildings of the city. Every now and then she’d trip on one of the road’s cobblestones, and I’d grip her hand tighter to support her. A few times we had to dodge a car, but we mostly kept to the side streets.
On one of the corners stood a short man dressed in an elf costume, begging for tips, and twice we had to duck underneath clotheslines that hung low, weighed down by all the drying shirts. A smile was plastered to Kayla’s face, and her eyes took in every sight, jumping from one side of the street to the other like a video camera trying to capture every moment.
The closer we got to the piazza, the more people we ran into. Everywhere, people from all nationalities filled the streets, and finally, we crossed into a large, open courtyard. A grandiose fountain sat in the very center with stairs that led up to each edge of the base. People visited along the steps, chatting and marveling at their purchases.
All around the piazza, vendors sold various products, from jewelry to food to pottery and plants. The smells of baking bread and spices flooded my nose, and across the square, a musician sat on the ground, playing sitar. Doorways to different restaurants and shops stood between the vendors’ displays. People walked through the piazza with smiles.
“This is amazing,” Kayla said. She turned in a full circle, looking at every vendor, every store.
“This is the Piazza dei Sogni Eterni, or Plaza of Eternal Dreams. It’s been here for at least a hundred years, if not longer. You won’t find the piazza on travel sites or brochures, but it’s one of my favorite places in Rome. See that restaurant over there?” I pointed across the square. “They make the best lasagna I’ve ever tasted. And that little ice cream place has the best chocolate gelato. And over here is a bookstore that carries original copies of the most famous works in history.”
I led her to the bookstore, a place I had frequented quite often over the years, and walked through the open, arched doorway into a two-story building that housed books from floor to ceiling. In the back, a coffee shop sold pastries and newspapers.
The storekeeper noticed me immediately. He was a short, pudgy man with black hair that wrapped around the back of his head. The top of his head was so bald you could use his scalp as a mirror. He clapped his hands and limped over. “Daniel! Cosi felice di vederti! Dove sei nascosto?”
“What did he say?” Kayla asked.
“He’s glad to see me and wants to know where I’ve been.” I turned to the storekeeper, Signore Derci. “Ciao, amico. Il lavoro mantiene un occupato. Vi present la mia ragazza, Kayla.” I hoped Kayla wouldn’t mind me calling her my girlfriend. But I’d begun to think of her that way. Then again, she wouldn’t have understood my words anyway.
Signore Derci approached her, took her hand and kissed her fingertips. He spoke with a very thick accent. “Miss Kayla. Very happy to meet you. You are beautiful girl.”
She blushed. “Thank you.”
Nudging her gently toward the coffee shop, I smiled. “Okay, I think I better separate you two. Good to see you, Signore Derci.”
He laughed and waddled away to help a customer at the register. I pulled out a chair at a round table in the back of the store for Kayla to sit. “Coffee or tea?”
“Black coffee, please.” She smiled.
I touched her cheek then ordered our coffees, grabbing a pastry for us to share. The plan was to take her to dinner, but I didn’t want her to be starving by the time we got there. We’d eaten the pizza hours ago.
“Black coffee, huh? Would’ve taken you for a cream and sugar girl,” I said when I sat down, breaking the flaky dessert in half and handing some to her.
“Nope. I’m easy to please.”
“Well, that’s good, considering today’s outing doesn’t include a sparkling Eiffel Tower. But I remember you saying something about all girls liking to shop?”
Kayla laughed. “You don’t need to spend your money on me, Daniel.”
“I’m not. It’s Giovanni’s. And we get our money from the Vatican. So really, it’s the Pope’s money.”
“The Pope knows about you?”
“He’s one of the only humans on the planet who does, and he’s sworn to secrecy. But being ‘God’s appointed’ or whatnot, he’s entitled to know what’s going on behind the veil.”
“Oh. Well, I’ll try not to buy everything in the city, then.” She smiled.
Once we finished our coffees, we spent a few minutes in the bookstore. Having left all of her books in Columbus, I convinced Kayla to pick up a few copies to fill part of the bookshelf in her room. Then we stopped at different vendors. We sniffed perfumes—which made me sneeze—had our caricatures drawn, and tried on different hats and scarves like kids playing dress up. Kayla posed with the scarves and hats, each time in a different position with a different look on her face, like a model during a photo shoot. I couldn’t remember the last time I laughed so hard. I loved seeing this side of her.
We passed a man painting a watercolor landscape of the villa. Kayla yanked on my hand when she stopped to watch, her excitement mirroring the night we’d been in Paris. Her eyes creased at the corners, and her lips turned up in a soft smile. I couldn’t help but grin, seeing her so peaceful.
When the sun started to go down, we sat on the steps of the fountain, listening to one of the musicians singing and playing a soft, romantic waltz on his sitar.
“What’s he saying?” Kayla asked.
I listened to the man singing in Italian and translated for her. “‘The red rose whispers of desire; the white rose breathes of love. Forever I will treasure you. Each day, a rose to you I will send, now until the end.’”
She scrunched her nose. “That’s cheesy.”
“It sounds better in Italian.”
“Yeah, I should’ve left it alone.” She smiled as her hair blew over her sun-kissed shoulders in the evening breeze. “Thank you for today, Daniel. I don’t remember the last time I had this much fun. And after yes
terday…” Her eyes fell to the ground.
“I know. It’s been a good day for me, too.” Usually, I came to this place alone and was in and out of one or two shops before heading back to the mansion. It was great being here with her, building memories I never thought I would. Taking her hand, I lifted her to her feet. “Come with me.”
“Where are we going?”
“I want to get you something.” I led her across the piazza to a small jewelry shop.
“Daniel, no. You already bought me a few books. That’s enough.”
“Oh, please. What girl doesn’t like to receive jewelry?”
Kayla bit her lip and peeked through the doorway at the different displays. Then she pointed at me. “Okay, but nothing expensive.”
Smiling, I led her through the door, and together, we picked out a yellow gold necklace with a charm in the shape of a rose. I clasped the pendant around her neck when we left the shop.
“So, do I have the Pope to thank for this, too?”
“No, I used part of my inheritance.”
“Wow. How rich were you?”
“Rich enough.”
“Well, thank you. I shan’t take it off,” Kayla said in her best British impression.
I shook my head at her attempt to mimic my accent. “Do me a favor and don’t do that again.”
She laughed. “Sorry.”
Slipping my hand into hers, I smiled. “Peckish?”
“Didn’t you just tell me I couldn’t speak British-ese?”
I chuckled. “Are you hungry?”
“Starving.”
“How does lasagna sound?”
After spending dinner talking and chowing on lasagna and cheesecake—and drinking one too many glasses of wine—we walked back to the mansion in the moonlight. We laughed the entire way up the stairs to the eighth floor and kissed outside her bedroom like we were at the back of a movie theater. I had to let her go when my resolve to drop her off like a gentleman dissolved. By the time I got to my room, I was blissful and exhausted and barely got my clothes off before passing out.
A loud knock on my door woke me. Rolling out of bed, I opened it, still feeling the grogginess from a little too much Moscato. Seth stood on the other side.
“Hey, man. Sorry to catch you like this, but Giovanni wants to see us all right away. Don’t bring Kayla.”
“What’s going on?”
He looked down at the ground. “I can’t tell you. Get dressed and come upstairs.” He left without another word.
I stared after him, nausea building in my stomach. I closed the door, dressed, then ran up the stairs to Giovanni’s office.
Bartholomew, Giovanni and six other Protectors were present, as were Seth, Samantha and Tabbi. Every face was tense. Given what I knew already, the haste with which Seth called us up here meant some new piece of information was uncovered. My heart pounded as I stood next to Tabbi and waited for Giovanni to begin.
“Last night, the team watching over Adelynn Rudolf was attacked. One of the three, Ivan, was able to escape. He’s downstairs in Bartholomew’s medical center recovering.”
After our bar brawl, I could’ve cared less that Ivan was injured. But my gut told me this was somehow connected to Kayla, so my knees locked. I waited for Giovanni to continue, my body stiff.
“But we lost Alektor and Adelynn’s Weaver, Josefine. From what Ivan said, they were attacked by fifteen Nightmares at one time, and before he left, screams came from the parents’ room. We have not heard from the parents’ Protectors.” He picked up the controller to his TV. “And then this news report ran this morning.”
Giovanni flipped on the TV and changed the channel to the news station in Seattle.
“The search for sixteen-year-old Adelynn Rudolf is still under way,” the reporter said. “Both parents were found dead in their beds when their maid came for her regularly scheduled cleaning. There are no suspects yet.”
Giovanni flicked off the television and turned to my group. “The attack happened within an hour of Kayla’s. Bartholomew and I both agree—we believe the warlock may have Adelynn.”
My heart stopped.
Everyone spoke at once. “What do you mean a warlock has her?”
“There was another attack?”
“What aren’t you telling us?”
Giovanni raised his hands. “Okay, everybody silenzio. You’re giving me a headache. We only put the pieces together last night. After Daniel brought Kayla to Rome, we researched the attacks a little further. Kayla and Adelynn were both receiving regular visits of five or more Nightmares.”
He turned to the other six Protectors. “As were your charges, Margaret Tucker and Alex Sheffield. But what we then discovered was that all of you had reported your humans to be ‘abnormal.’ They were all capable of some kind of… power. Like this Adelynn girl—Ivan told me she touched her boyfriend, and he was electrocuted.”
Bartholomew jumped in. “All of your charges, we discovered, are not human at all. They’re Magus. And they all carry a specific characteristic: They were all born sixteen years ago on October thirty-first, exactly at midnight.”
I gripped the bookshelf behind me to keep from falling. Kayla wasn’t just a witch—she was born on the Magus’ holiest night. This was why the warlock wanted them. They all had dark, powerful blood running through their veins, more than an average witch or warlock.
Bartholomew continued, “I’ve spoken with Trishna, our primary contact in the supernatural realm. She too agrees there is something bigger going on than we were aware of, and given this warlock’s possible identity… well, let’s just say, it’s imperative this man not get the other three Magus.”
“So what do we do?” one of the Weavers, Cindy, asked.
Giovanni replied, “Well, the good news is, one of them is already within our walls. Kayla Bartlett is here and safe. The bad news is, two are still out there, and from what we can tell, this warlock is moving quickly. We must bring them to Rome immediately.”
“You mean kidnap them?” Cindy asked.
“What other choice do we have? If we don’t, he could attack another one of them tonight, and then he’ll be one step closer to getting all the pieces he needs. He is capable of controlling Nightmares, creatures as bound to the Underworld as we are to the Heavens, and forcing them to attack while our humans are awake. If he is successful in capturing all four Magus, his power will quadruple and an apocalypse will rain on this earth.
“I will call for a meeting at lunch hour. All who can be there will be, and those who can’t I’m sure will hear the news through the grapevine. Our orders have come from Above. We’re going to war.”
couldn’t get Giovanni’s news out of my mind. He refused to give us more specifics until everyone could hear, but our orders had come from Above. Above. That never happened. Sure, the Angels gave us our positions in our afterlives, but that was the only time a Protector ever had communication with the Heavens. For them to send us a direct order for war meant something catastrophic was happening.
And Kayla was right damn smack in the middle of it.
“You’re awfully quiet today,” Kayla said.
“Yeah, sorry. Rough morning. Did you want a Coke or something?” Jumping up, I crossed the room to the small fridge next to my desk.
“Um, sure. Is everything okay?”
I grabbed two cans of Coke, handed one to her and plopped back on the bed. “Just a meeting with Giovanni. You’ll hear soon enough.”
“Does it have to do with the warlock?”
I sighed, not really wanting to have this conversation with her. But I also didn’t want her to have a panic attack in front of hundreds, maybe thousands, of Protectors. Turning off the TV, I tried to calm my turbulent stomach.
“There was another attack last night. We’re certain the warlock was involved. Giovanni’s holding a meeting at lunch today to relay everything we’ve uncovered.”
Kayla gripped her can so hard I thought her fingers were going to burst t
hrough the metal. I slipped the Coke out of her hand before she hurt herself.
“Why is he going after us? What could he possibly want?”
I paused, not sure how I wanted to answer her question. How does someone tell another they’re not fully human? I scratched the back of my neck. “I don’t know how to say this. It’s not going to be easy to hear.”
Kayla’s face paled. “Daniel, you’re scaring me.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Just… that night when your mom’s boyfriend went up in flames…” I couldn’t seem to find the words, so I spoke as quickly as I could. “You weren’t seeing things. It really happened.”
Her eyes filled with tears. “What do you mean?”
I shifted in my seat, not wanting to continue. But I knew I had to. “You’re different, Kayla.” I ran my hand down my face. Why was this so bloody hard? “You’re a witch.”
She jumped off the bed and glared at me like I’d told her I just ran over her puppy. “What? No. No, you’re wrong. I’m normal, just like everyone else. I am not a… a witch.”
“Kayla—”
“I can’t be.” Her hands shook, and she paced.
Standing, I grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at me. “I told you it wasn’t going to be easy to hear. But people don’t explode into flames for no reason. Think about it. Did you feel anything before it happened, like a tingling sensation or something?”
I knew she had, but I didn’t want to scare her more by telling her I’d felt the prickling, too. While being in her head.
She let out a soft whimper and nodded.
“And after everything, do you really think I’d tell you something like this if I wasn’t certain?”
Kayla shook her head. A tear fell from her eye. “Is that why he wants me—the warlock?”
“We think so. But I promise I will keep you safe. No matter what happens, I will not let anyone hurt you.”
Kayla nodded, but the fear never left her eyes. Before I could say anything else, the loud gong in the cafeteria shook the house. Giovanni’s meeting was about to start.
