Rise: A New Adult Urban Fantasy (Spelldrift: Coven of Fire Book 1)

by Sierra Cross

  Addison was frowning. “Usually people are blown away by our facilities.”

  “Sorry.” Damn, had I disappointed her by not acting impressed? I tried to explain. “It’s just…I’ve been here a lot.”

  “Oh, right.” Her face tightened almost imperceptibly. “Because of your aunt.”

  So she did know whose niece I was. A distressing thought surfaced: Did she assume I was coasting by on nepotism? I knew Aunt Jenn wouldn’t pull any strings beyond scoring me this interview, but not everyone knew that. “Well, have you seen the new employee gym?” Addison asked. At my head shake, she brightened considerably. “It’s going to blow you away, my friend.”

  Relaxing a bit, I followed her down the hall. When she pulled open the heavy glass door to the gym foyer, fit receptionists clad in workout gear greeted us with enthusiastic smiles.

  “José and Becca are just two of our personal trainers,” Addison explained. “They’ll develop a streamlined routine designed specifically for you and provide whatever level of gentle accountability you prefer. Come on through. The sauna and steam room offer advanced oxygen therapy, using a patented technology from Finland. And all the shower stalls are stocked with boutique body and hair products from an amazing little French company we partner with. Here, grab a bag of free samples…”

  By the time I was sitting in the small conference room waiting for my first interviewer, I couldn’t imagine not working at Millennium Dynamics. Between the campus amenities and the special discounts employees enjoyed at local and national chains, the perks here were amazing. Built-in camaraderie being the best perk of all.

  But as Addison had walked me deeper into the center of campus, a slight buzzing began to run up my spine and hadn’t let up since. Since I’d entered the conference room, the odd feeling had only intensified. I couldn’t help but think my wicked nerves had to be a sign. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for corporate life?

  Or, maybe some part of me was determined to self-sabotage?

  Screw that. I wasn’t going to embarrass Aunt Jenn.

  I took a slow, deep breath and willed myself to focus.

  Out of my way, self-saboteur, I have an interview to crush.

  Back in the food court two hours later, I was parked at a two-top, sucking down my peach-tofu smoothie with a bee pollen boost. I’d never talked about myself so much in my life—who knew flapping your gums could be so exhausting? I’d be halfway home by now, halfway to a hot bubble-bath, but Aunt Jenn made me promise to debrief her before I left.

  When she finally entered the mall from the far side, every employee in the food court did a double take as she passed. As always, I had that weird moment of reconciling the two parts of who my aunt was: Aunt Jenn the homey brunch cook and Jennifer Hill, Chief Operations Officer of a multi-billion-dollar tech firm.

  “Sorry, that call took longer than I thought.” She slid into the chair across from me. “Had a problem in the Tokyo office that couldn’t wait.” Success looked good on her, an effortless accessory she wore so naturally.

  “I’ve only been here a couple of minutes,” I lied.

  “So, tell me!” Her voice brimming with excitement. “How’d it go?”

  I shrugged, not wanting to oversell it. I’d done okay in my view, but doubt still roiled in my stomach. The position was for a Junior Market Research Analyst—entry level—but I suspected that other applicants had internships under their belts. While I had…a two-year bartending stint. Just because Aunt Jenn had thrived in a corporate environment didn’t mean I could. She was still looking at me with expectation, so I said, “Pretty good, I think.”

  “Just pretty good?”

  Great, so she was going to grill me. Then again, she had every right to. She’d gone out on a limb recommending me for the job. I’d stayed up all night cramming so I wouldn’t bomb the interview and make her look bad. Now, for the first time, it dawned on me that—just as my not being offered the job could cause her embarrassment—my turning the job down might offend her personally.

  What had I done?

  My anxiety cascade was interrupted by the sight of a drop-dead gorgeous man in a bespoke suit entering the retail court. I thought people had noticed my aunt, but the reaction to him was taking it to Hollywood celebrity status. No wonder: he was Eric Starr, longtime CEO of Millennium Dynamics. I’d seen him on television a million times and my aunt talked about him often, but I’d never seen him in person before. With his perfectly-styled head of salt and pepper hair and twinkling eyes shining from his swarthy complexion he was stare-worthy. A silver fox. And he was heading right toward us.

  “Jennifer, is this the niece you’re always going on about?” Eric Starr put his hand on my aunt’s shoulder, but his gaze stayed on me.

  “Yes, Eric! This is Alix.” She gazed at me proudly.

  I felt like a fish on a hook and had to consciously stop myself from squirming in my chair. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Addison watching from the sushi bar. I didn’t have time to worry about what she must think of me and my lofty, one-percenter connections.

  “Pleasure to meet you.” The CEO extended his hand formally. Almost ceremonially. Everything about him was so formal and deliberate that I felt my own posture straighten in his presence as I jumped up to take his hand. Our hands connected…and I felt the world pitch and roll for a split second. Not like I was going to faint, more like someone flash-opened a curtain to the night sky. It came and went so quickly I thought I must have imagined it. Too much caffeine on an empty stomach. When I caught my breath, Eric Starr’s dark eyes were still on me, like he was seriously evaluating me. Maybe it was a CEO thing? A response to his insane levels of authority and charisma.

  Or maybe it was yet another sign: I was really, really not cut out for corporate life.

  “We only hire the best and the brightest—but from everything your aunt has told me, that certainly applies to you. Best of luck.” He turned to Aunt Jenn. “I’ll see you for that breakfast meeting tomorrow?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  They exchanged smiles, and as Eric walked away at a brisk pace—making a call as he crossed the room—Aunt Jenn’s eyes followed him. Whoa…did my aunt have something secret going on with Hottie McCEO? That would explain her enthusiasm for all those late nights at the office. And the way he looked at me, like wanting to connect to his girlfriend’s kid…

  “Breakfast meeting, huh?” I teased Aunt Jenn, keeping my voice as quiet as possible. “Just tell me, is breakfast at the beginning of the get together or the end?”

  “Alix!” Aunt Jenn looked about ready to blush like a schoolgirl. “He’s my boss. It’s a business meeting, not a tryst.”

  “Whatever.” You don’t work in a bar for two years without figuring out which coworkers are sleeping together.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, clearly trying to suppress a glowing smile.

  I couldn’t help smiling back. “Oh my God, why didn’t you tell me?” Maybe my aunt’s life wasn’t as empty as I thought.

  “I wanted to see where it was going…he’s such a public figure…” Aunt Jenn shook her head, looking around uncomfortably at the public setting.

  No way she was getting off that easy. Before I got a chance to really interrogate her, though, my phone rang. “Aack! Caller ID says someone from Millennium Dynamics.”

  “Take it!” she said. Going against her usual “no cell phones while we’re talking” policy.

  I stepped away from the table to answer.

  By the time I sat back down, I felt shell shocked.

  “Well?” Aunt Jenn sounded so eager and nervous that you’d think she was the job applicant, not me.

  “Um, that was HR. Assuming all goes well with routine background check and calling references, I’ve got the job. With a signing bonus if I start Monday.”

  She looked almost as surprised as me, but her look quickly shifted to elation. “That’s fantastic! I’m so proud of you.”

  I felt num
b. What did I just do? They were probably calling Randy for a reference right now—I cringed, as that could go either way. Aunt Jenn was giddy, talking about riding to work together and work out routines. The reality of it was all just washing over me. Did I really want to do this?

  “Alix.” I could tell from her tone that Aunt Jenn was about to switch gears from cheerleader to sage. Did she sense my doubt? “I know you can’t see it yet, but this is one of those pivotal moments in your life. You make a choice that may feel like going out on a limb, but it becomes the foundation of your future. You can build on this. You can thrive on it. I always dreamed of following my mother’s footsteps, but it turned out I was meant to forge my own path.” Tears glistened in her eyes, and I squeezed her hand. We understood each other. “What if you are too?”

  “Maybe you’re right.” Maybe the hesitation I felt was just fear of taking a new path.

  “Of course I’m right.” Aunt Jenn gave me her version of a mom-smile. “I have no doubt the bar was fun, for a time, but this”—she motioned with her hand around the busy, luxurious food court—“is who you really are, Alix.”

  I froze. Out of nowhere Asher’s parting words reverberated in my mind, the judgment in his voice making me ache all over again: “If you ever want to find out who and what you are…”

  A melancholy thought came to me. Would Mom even recognize me now? What would she think of the choice I’d just made, the person I was fast becoming?

  I blinked back the tears that suddenly burned my eyes. Here in the fancy food court of my future corporate employer, I missed Mom more intensely than I had in years. I needed to feel her presence somehow, away from skyscrapers and concrete. I gave Aunt Jenn a quick hug and hightailed it out of there, ignoring her calling my name with concern. I speed-walked all the way to the parking lot, started the engine, and drove straight to Caster’s Park.

  Chapter Four

  The road couldn’t stretch out long enough before me. Before I knew it, I was on 90 crossing the floating bridge, halfway to Seattle. The sun hung low in the sky as I pulled into the parking lot of Caster’s Park. It would be dark soon, but even though I hadn’t been here in ages, I knew this place like the back of my hand. Nothing about the empty park in the twilight raised my spider senses. This place felt like coming home.

  Sometimes it was hard to remember that I had a life before the anger. But in Caster’s Park, the memories whispered to me from every rock, stream, and pine tree. The way the wind sang through the thick summer-green leaves as I would lay on a blanket with Callie and Liv on either side of me. The smell of sunscreen. Liv telling secrets—she was always doing something worth talking about, like cutting math class to meet up with Dallas Hanson and French-kiss him. Callie’s wide eyes and bell-like giggle, hand over her mouth. Long hot days that seemed to last forever. The laughter of our mothers as they shared stories among themselves. Our fathers tending the grill, cooking burgers and hot dogs, chatting with the guardians. Long wooden picnic tables covered in checked tablecloths set for our whole tribe. Every weekend during the spring and summer and well into the wettest of falls and winters the families of my mother’s coven gathered. It was the bedrock of my childhood.

  Until it wasn’t.

  Sadness mingled with red rage came back, visceral and burning. The principal called Liv and me into her office. I knew she told us of the semi-truck colliding with the bus on I-5. She had tears in her eyes when she told us about the tragic loss of life. I knew all this, but I didn’t remember it. The core of who I was curled up in a little ball deep inside of me. I was a shell moving like a human being.

  The day of my parents’ funeral and everyone kept saying, “We can’t see it now, but everything happens for a reason.” Or worse, “Don’t cry honey, they’re in a better place.” As if I should accept it and move on. The anger that grew in me expanded until it finally cracked the shell I’d built around myself. Blood pounded in my ears and I was seeing red. I’d run to my room and lock myself in so I wouldn’t have to hear another person say it was all going to be okay. Nothing would ever be okay again.

  After that, Aunt Jenn had suggested I could try to learn magic, as a way to connect with my mother and give my grieving mind something else to focus on. But I failed. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t do a single spell. Though my mother’s blood ran through my veins, I just didn’t have her magic in me.

  That’s when the anger took over. Unwanted memories of playground fights and bloody noses and Aunt Jenn being called to the principal’s office invaded my brain. The tingling in my hands that accompanied every fight became a force I couldn’t ignore. I picked fights and saw bullies where none existed. I got to the point where I no longer wanted to hear reason. Matt would come to me and I’d squeeze my eyes shut every time his apparition showed up. Until eventually, he stopped showing up all together. The principal, as much as she sympathized, was talking expulsion. But Aunt Jenn convinced her to give me thirty days. And in that time my aunt enrolled me into every sport she could squeeze into my schedule. Swimming before school. She forced me to drop art and pick up volleyball. She enrolled me in karate after school. I grumbled and bitched and moaned. And Aunt Jenn prodded and cajoled and got me to every practice. Before I knew it, I was too busy to think. Too tired for the anger to take control. My aunt had weathered the storm of my anger to save my life.

  As I was parking the car, the ringing phone interrupted my memories. When I saw who was calling--Aunt Jenn--the tears of gratitude that had filled my eyes threatened to fall. I picked up and apologized for running out so abruptly. Luckily, she seemed to understand. Said if I was still up for that celebratory dinner, she could get us reservations at the hot new Japanese fusion restaurant downtown.

  Aunt Jenn was the best.

  “Sounds great!” I said. And hoped it would be true, after a short, mind-clearing hike.

  My sharp-heeled boot hit the earth of the expertly landscaped berm and sunk to the sole. No way I was going make it up the hill in this outfit. Luckily I had a half-full box of clothes destined for Goodwill in the trunk. I dug out a pair of jeans that never fit right in the waist and a brown pair of low boots that just never made it into my rotation. I could go to the restroom to change, but the park was completely deserted. I did the shimmy/cover/change in the passenger seat and headed out. Passed the picnic area and kept walking along the gravel path to the trailhead.

  Even though I hadn’t had the conscious thought, I knew where I was going. Wren Trail. The imploring look in Matt’s eyes rushed to me, fresh and visceral. I stopped in my tracks on the gravel path. Matt might not be a ghost but he was, by his own admission, an ethereal being who existed in a realm called the Void. Was I seriously taking his suggestion on where to hike? After all, I knew there was no cave. The map posted at the trailhead knew there was no cave. Everyone knew, but Matt.

  What the hell, I’m this far, I told myself. Might as well go and prove him wrong.

  Besides, the chill in the air invading as the sun descended was laden with the scent of pine needles and earth and it made my senses sing. Sparked by the smell of the woods, a snippet of a memory came to me. The night my mother caught me following her down this very path.

  I walked straight uphill—I’d almost forgotten how steep the Wren Trail was—and a familiar prickling sensation brushed my skin. I gasped in pain…and the memory turned vivid.

  After the picnics, our fathers would clear the tables and watch us kids, as our mothers would gather and head off into the forest at the edge of the picnic area. It was just the way it was. I never thought anything of it until right before my thirteenth birthday when Liv, who was my age, asked me what they did when they left. I had no idea.

  Caster’s Park covered a huge area. Its western border was a rocky beach on Elliot Bay. Up the embankment to a ring of forested land with playgrounds, ballfields, and a picnic area in the middle. You could spend a day hiking in it and never retrace your steps. We three girls tromped over every inch of that park, tu
rning up rocks to find creepy bugs, making driftwood huts on the beach, climbing the bluff. But, somehow, we never explored the direction our mothers went.

  “We should follow them,” I suggested.

  “Yeah!” Callie jumped up and down with excitement.

  “Not you, you’re too little.” Liv never let Callie forget the two years that separated her from us.

  “Yeah, you have to stay here,” I agreed, because Liv and I were a team always.

  Callie harrumphed but she was outvoted as usual.

  As we hit the edge of the forest, though, Liv lost interest—as she was prone to do with things that took too long—and headed back to the blanket. I walked on up the rocky path, determined. I even waded through the prickly aura of what I suspected was a protection spell, meant to dissuade people from going this way. I was on a mission.

  As I did that night so long ago, I kept walking now, ignoring what felt like hundreds of ants doing a line dance across my skin. So the protection spells my mother’s coven set were still here.

  “Wards,” I said aloud. That was the name of the spell.

  Mom had explained it to me once, I suddenly remembered. The outer ward made the cave invisible to anyone not in the coven and physically kept them from entering. When did she tell me that?

  It was that night. When she caught me. Doing what?

  I strained for the memory, but it was hard to grab hold of. Like it was wrapped in mothballs, deep in a closet in my mind. But as I concentrated on my mother’s face and voice, the mental mothballs dissolved.

  Long after Liv turned around, I had walked all the way up to the end of the path and had seen the door-like mouth of a cave. A shining golden light emanated from inside the cave. I heard the sound of chanting and laughter. That’s when I realized I better head back before I got into trouble for spying on the grown-ups.

  I’d scrambled a few feet back onto the rocky path when I heard my mother’s gentle voice behind me. “You’re getting curious, are you?”