by J. L. Weil
I was having a mental breakdown. There was an underlying evil in the visions I was having of myself. It got to the point where I didn’t close my eyes anymore. I laid there clutching the moonstone and amethyst necklace, praying it would chase away the images.
I don’t know how long I lay there, but it was the sound of my phone vibrated on the nightstand that roused me. I ignored the buzzing and continued to stare at the ceiling, falling in and out of reality. There was no concept of time. No sense of the room around me. No desire to move. Just the numbness I came to depend on, to shut out the truth.
When my aunt got home, she came to check on me. I mumbled something about not feeling good. In a way, I was sick. The bowl of chicken noodle soup she fixed me before going to bed sat on the nightstand, and remained untouched all night.
By morning, I was in the same position, in the same trance-like emotionless state.
I blinked, beams of sunlight hurting my eyes.
A knock sounded on my door, before it squeaked opened a crack. “Brianna?” Aunt Clara called, peering inside.
I was still tucked in bed. I rolled to my side and watched her walk across the room. She sat on the edge of my bed beside me, pushing the hair back from my face, eying me warily. Her floral perfume hit the room and soaked into my soul, breaking it a little. I was afraid she was about to open the floodgates I’d been numbly holding back.
“Hey, honey, still not feeling well?” she asked.
“No, not really,” I croaked. I needed water. My throat started to close up, courtesy of the overwhelming emotion rising within me.
She studied me another moment. “Okay, I’ll call the school to let them know you won’t be there, and I’ll check on you later. If you need anything, you know where to reach me.” Leaning over, she pressed a kiss to my forehead, and picked up the still-full soup bowl. She paused at the doorway. “You should really try and eat something.”
I nodded.
And the tears started pouring as the garage door shut. Noisy, gut-wrenching sobs tore from deep inside me. The kind that gave me hiccups in an effort to breathe and cry at once. I’d held them off all night, but they couldn’t be contained any longer. My body, mind, and soul needed the emotional purge.
I curled the blanket around me and hugged myself in a ball. The windowpanes in my room pounded with giant raindrops that made me cry all the more. It was like the universe was telling me what I didn’t want to hear, a justification of my uncontrollable magic—magic I didn’t want.
My blanket was soaked with my tears, and my chest heaved. I glanced out the window, unable to believe that I was somehow causing the storm. I didn’t know what to do. It seemed like a huge responsibility to be able to control something as immense as the weather.
I snatched my phone off the nightstand. There were two missed calls for Tori, one from Gavin, and a string of text messages. Everyone wanted to know the same thing. Where are you? What’s wrong? Why are you ignoring me? I’m about to report you missing. And so forth.
And so my day went. When I finally dragged my butt out of bed, my body felt achy and weak, as if I’d just gotten over a bout of the flu. It never occurred to me before how lost and alone a person could feel. I’d never been so unsure of anything in my life. There were two options here: I could go on with my life, pretending Gavin never mentioned the word witch, or I accepted that I could be a witch, as Gavin claimed, and ask for his help. What I couldn’t do was stay in this room and hide from the world.
Downstairs I nibbled on some crackers, trying to settle my empty stomach. I made a mental pro-con list. To be or not to be a witch. It sounded like a snappy book title.
If I ignored what I was, I could potentially harm others by not being able to control my magic. I could disappoint those who cared for me. Most of all, I could lose Gavin.
If I were a witch, I would have to lie to my friends, to my aunt. I could lose my only friends.
It all boiled down to being scared. Scared to be a witch. Scared of failing. Scared to lose the guy I was probably in love with. Scared to lose my friends and potentially my aunt. I wasn’t sure I could risk all that.
I spent the rest of the day going over and over the same questions with no answers. When night fell, I was in bed again before my aunt got home. Much like the previous night, she came in to check on me. This time I forced myself to eat a little of the soup she brought, and wished I could tell her what was eating at me inside.
There was only one person I could talk to about this whose opinion didn’t really matter. He was, after all, a figment of my imagination.
I unclasped the necklace, and laid it on the nightstand. Since I’d starting wearing the amethyst and moonstone, I hadn’t had a single dream of him.
His name whispered from my lips. My eyes fluttered close as I slowly went under. Lukas. His name echoed in my mind as I drifted off to sleep.
The darkness gave way, and when I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw were the lilac frosted walls of my bedroom. Hell, it didn’t work. Frustrated, I tossed the covers aside and turned on my bedside lamp, running a hand through my unwashed hair. Mental note: shower tomorrow. Just because my life was falling apart, didn’t mean my hair had to suffer.
I sat up in the bed and yelped. There was a figure sitting at my desk chair. His grin was one I knew well.
Lukas.
“Holy crap! You scared me to death,” I exhaled.
“You look like hell.” He leaned back in the chair, grinning from ear-to-ear.
I tossed a pillow at his head and missed, making him chuckle. “What are you doing here?” …in my bedroom, I added in my head.
“You brought me. As always,” he answered, looking at me like I lost my mind.
Maybe I had.
“I’m dreaming?” This was a first. I’ve never dreamed of my own life, nothing this personal, and certainly not my bedroom. And again, why does my subconscious continue to make me look like I just rolled out of bed? If I was a witch, at least I should be able to spell myself hot.
“Pretty sure,” he commented. “Nice room.” His smile was infectious. “I always wondered what it would look like.”
He got up from his seat, the college t-shirt spanning his chest as strolled around the room, looking at the most intimate part of my life. There was a slight sting in my chest at having another guy in my room, even if it was a dream. He came across the necklace on the table beside me.
“So this is why I haven’t seen you lately.” He trailed a finger over the moonstone and amethyst gems.
“How do you know that?” I wondered aloud.
He shrugged and sat down on the bed next to me. The mattress shifted under his weight, and his blue jeans rubbed against my bare leg. “My mom.”
We never really talked about his parents before, and it made me wonder about them. I always figured that my dreams didn’t have a world outside me. I guess I could dream up parents.
“Remember the new guy, the witch I told you about…” I started getting right to why I had wanted to see him. His emerald eyes held mine, waiting for me to go on. “He told me that I’m a witch. Can you believe that?” I asked, expecting him to express the same outrage I’d felt.
“And you don’t believe him?”
“Should I?” I retorted, baffled.
He regarded me, brows drawing together. “I can’t tell you what to believe, but I have always thought there was something unique about you.”
“And if I don’t want it?” I argued.
“Do you really have a choice, if it is who you are? Do you really want to deny such a powerful gift?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed more discouraged than before.
“I think you owe it to yourself to find out if that is who you are,” he advised.
Maybe he had a point. What would it hurt to try? Maybe I owed it to myself and to Gavin. “You might be right.”
He put his arm around me in comfort, and I rested my head on his arm. “It doesn’t have to change you as a
person, if that’s what you are worried about.”
“How can it not?”
He brushed a piece of hair from my face. “Don’t let it define you. You need to take control of the power if it is yours. It doesn’t control you.” His honey voice had softened.
Easier said than done, but he was right. “Okay,” I agreed. “It might be worth a shot.”
His dark green eyes smiled at me, highlighted by the blond of his hair. “Brianna the witch—has a nice ring to it.”
Reaching behind me, I smacked him in the back of the head with my pillow, not missing this time. His laugh resounded off my bedroom walls.
“You’ll regret that Lukas Devine. Just wait…” I playfully threatened him.
“I’m looking forward to it,” he replied.
Laying my head back on his shoulder, I closed my eyes and was cloaked by his radiance. He brushed a light kiss on my cheek. When I opened them again, I was alone.
Chapter 25
By the third day, I had got up to face the truth and the world. I couldn’t hibernate in my room forever. My aunt was already worried sick about my state, and I didn’t want to upset her further.
I had finally come to terms with my decision. Life was filled with choices, and if I had magic inside me, it wasn’t going to just disappear. From what I’d already experienced, it didn’t work that way. Already, magic had already found ways to weave into my life without my knowledge. Accepting it and learning to control it seemed a better solution, instead of letting someone get hurt.
What I planned on telling my aunt was another story. I wasn’t even comfortable with the idea, and until I was, I would keep this part of myself a secret…for now. When the time came, if the time came, I would find a way to tell her.
My phone rang, and I was tempted to throw it across the room or flush it down the toilet. I checked the clock. School had just gotten out, and for three days I had been absent.
I cringed at the pile of homework that waiting for me on my return tomorrow.
The good thing about my decision: my appetite had returned with a vengeance.
I padded out of my room, on the hunt for something to eat. As I rounded the corner to the kitchen, a voice stopped me in my tracks.
“I was just about to drag you from your room.”
I pitched a scream worthy of breaking glass, and a hand wrapped around my mouth, stifling the shout of terror. His scent hit me all at once. Wild woods. I stopped struggling and relaxed in his arms. He released me, turning me around so I could see his face.
Gavin.
“What are you doing here?” I screeched. My mind told me I should be mad at him for scaring the shit out of me, but it had been too long since I had seen him.
My eyes ate him up every inch of him. He was wearing all black, looking like the poster boy for a male model ad. And he smelled amazing. My pulse skittered as I stared into his eyes. I could be as angry or upset as I wanted to be, but it never changed the way my body reacted to him.
“I was worried about you. You haven’t been to school in three days. You don’t answer your phone. You don’t text back. What am I suppose think?”
“I needed some time.” I opened the fridge and grabbed us something to drink, trying to still my overzealous heart. “How did you get in here?”
He cocked a brow. “Do you think a locked door is going to keep me out? I was afraid you wouldn’t see me,” he replied, taking a seat across from me at the table.
“I wasn’t fit for company.” I popped the top on my can.
“Bri, I truly never meant to hurt you.” So much regret and pain shone in his eyes.
The sight tore at my heart. I had indirectly hurt him. By rejecting what I was, I had, in a way, rejected him, and that had never been my intention. What a mess.
“I only wanted to help. I swear. I know this is scary for you. When I saw you struggling, I had to do something. If you let me, I can help you. Sophie, too. I promise.”
I gazed into his eyes, wondering how I ever doubted he didn’t have my best interest at heart. “I know. I was going to talk to you at school tomorrow. This whole witch thing is still… unreal to me,” I confessed, letting the exasperation show.
“If you let me, I know we can figure it this out together. Or, at the very least, I can teach you how to block it, if that’s what you want.”
“I don’t know what I want. Not yet, but I’d like to learn.”
He exhaled. “Sophie has been dying to see you. She has been very difficult since she found out that I told you. She’s not the easiest witch to deal with,” he confessed.
I could only imagine. Sophie was stubborn when she wanted to be.
“She’s quite mad at me, if it makes you feel any better,” he added, leaning back against his chair, looking out of sorts.
“I’m not mad at you anymore. The shock has more or less worn off,” I admitted. “To be honest, I am still not a hundred percent convinced I’m a witch, but I am willing to try. I need to know one way or the other so I can move on.”
“Good, now I can tell Sophie to stop trying to hex me.”
I gave him a half smile. “Not on my account.”
He eyed me across the table with a hint of a smirk. “She was so mad at me for what I did, she refused to talk to me the rest of the day, and then when she was speaking to me, she was yelling at me about what an idiot I was.”
“She’s such a good friend,” I said, sipping my drink.
He snorted. “Lately, I’d say your taste in friends is questionable. Look what you got yourself into.” The smile he sent me was dangerous.
“You’re telling me.”
“Come over tomorrow after school?” he asked.
“I can’t. I have work,” I said, remembering I needed to resume my responsibilities, which included my shift at the shop.
“Fine, the day after that,” he suggested, an obvious look of disappointment on his face.
“All right,” I agreed.
“I’ll pick you up after school.”
I nodded. Witchcraft 101, here I come.
Chapter 26
My first day as a witch, well, potential witch, Sophie and Jared were waiting for Gavin and I outside, around back.
“This is going to be fun,” Jared said, all geared up. His dimples winked on either side of his cheeks mischievously. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you.”
I rolled my eyes. The eldest Mason was trouble in a different sense than his brother.
“You didn’t think we were going to miss out on your first day of boot camp, did you?” Sophie asked, smiling innocently.
Seeing Jared suddenly reminded me that I still didn’t know what magic he could do. “Jared,” I called, bringing his attention to me instead of whatever prank was running through his head. “Gavin promised me you would tell me what you can do.”
Jared’s eyes twinkled, but it was Gavin’s voice behind me who answered. “Not tell, Jared, show her.” He came to stand next to me, taking my hand.
“I’d be delighted to,” he said, gleaming in roguery, dimples winking on either side of his cheeks.
Right before my eyes, Jared began to change, form shifting so quick to the eye that I almost didn’t believe—or see the change. A gray and white coated wolf stood where Jared had been moments before, his eyes the same piercing blue as Gavin’s. In a blink of an eye, Jared had transformed into a beautiful and fierce wolf.
My mouth dropped open.
A shifter? Jared was a shifter.
I needed to sit down before I fainted.
Kneeling to his level, I scratched the sides of his fluffy neck, feeling how real the wolf was. His fur was much softer than I expected. Jared the wolf closed his eyes in appreciation at the neck rub.
At this point, I was becoming good with weird. “Wow,” I exclaimed. “You’re a shift shaper. That is seriously wicked. Any chance I’ll be able to do that?” I asked, standing back up.
Just as smoothly as before, Jared returned to his hu
man form. The three of them looked at me as if I had grown horns. They had expected me to freak out again.
Who could blame them?
“You never fail to surprise me,” Gavin grinned. “Just when I think I understand you, you blindside me again. Why is it you don’t bat an eye when Jared shifts, but you lock yourself away for days when I inform you that you’re a witch?”
I eyed him levelly and shrugged. Even I didn’t understand how my mind worked. Why should anyone else? “Maybe I’m getting used to the unusual. I should, since I am one.”
“At least you’re starting to believe,” Sophie replied. “Come on; let’s see what you can do!” Her excitement was starting to become contagious.
“Where do we start?” I had no idea what in the world I was supposed to be doing. This wasn’t exactly like learning how to play Battleship.
I sat across from Sophie on the grass, with Jared and Gavin behind us. Sophie’s expression was suddenly serious. “You know that spark you sometimes feel?”
I nodded.
“That is your energy, the source of your power. By recognizing it, you should be able to focus the energy to command it.”
Okay, sounded simple, which made me believe it was going to be harder than it sounded. Most things were.
“Close your eyes,” she instructed. “Now relax your breathing. Gavin says your power is at its strongest when you are angry. It’s connected to your emotions. I want you to find the energy source that feeds your anger. That is where you’re going to pull your powers. You need to be able to access it at your whim, not just when your emotions are high.”
“I don’t know what I am looking for,” I admitted, feeling a little defeated.
“Just like your heart beats, magic has its own sound, so to speak. For some, it’s a vibration, for others it’s a hum, but it’s there in your blood, pumping inside your veins. Once you recognize the source you can begin to tap into it,” she explained. “I want you to listen, find the energy within you.”
With my eyes closed, I listened to the rolling waves of the ocean, keeping my breathing even with gentle ins and outs. Focusing deeper on myself, I picked up the stable rhythm of my heart, pumping strong against my chest. And there, keeping time with my heart, was a steady hum. It traveled throughout my body, warm and willing. I could follow its movements, extending from one side of me to the other.
