I smiled. "It's really nice to talk to someone who understands."
"So you've been going to school with Gavon's apprentice and now you have a crush on him." She closed her eyes. "I can't picture him."
"He's cute. Really cute. Really obnoxiously, stupidly cute. And funny, but kind of an asshole. But kind when he wants to be."
"Uh-huh. And how did we get here from you waking up in the middle of the night with nightmares about Cyrus?"
My face warmed. "A long, arduous tale."
"I have all the time in the world."
So I told her everything, from how James had shown up on the first day of school, to our pact, to when Gavon had bailed us out of jail (she found that highly entertaining) to the impromptu kiss and my strange magical memories of our parents.
"You remember him, don't you?" I asked. "Is that why you've always been so pro-Gavon?"
"I don't remember a lot, obviously," Marie said. "But you know, when you're a healer, you sort of…know things about people. Like I always knew that Jeanie resented us a little and it made me resent her."
"I don't blame her," I replied. "She was really young, and there wasn't anyone else to take us."
"Dad could've taken us," Marie replied. She took a long drink then sighed. "I thought, anyway."
I stared at her. I'd never heard Gavon referred to as anything other than his name.
"He made it pretty clear to me taking us wasn't an option for several reasons. I didn't really understand a few years ago when I went to his place and argued with him about it."
"I'm sorry, you did what?"
She laughed, and played with her straw. "After Nicole and I had that last big fight, I crossed the tear and found him. He was so pissed…" She chuckled again. "And then we got into it. Really bad. So I disappeared for a few years." Her eyes grew a little sad. "I kind of kept waiting for him to show up, but he never did. Until one day, out of the blue, there he was. We had a good talk about a lot of things, including the reasons Jeanie had to be the one to take us, and I forgave him."
"I wish I could forgive that easily," I said.
"Like I said, it's weird when you're a healer. You sort of have this overbearing knowledge of people's intentions. And I know that his are genuine."
"Did he tell you about the edict?" I asked.
She nodded. "Pretty genius, if you ask me. They can't screw with us, and, in case you got any wild hairs, we can't screw with them. Dad said it was his finest bit of political manipulation to get it approved."
There it was again. "Why do you call him that?"
"Because he's Dad. He's been Dad since I was a little girl, and I don't plan on changing that any time soon. Used to drive Jeanie crazy when I said it."
I frowned. "Marie… Jeanie's gone."
"I know," she replied softly. "I just…it makes it a little easier if I pretend like she's still around, you know?" Marie shook her head. "I do miss her."
"Me too." I went back to my glass, which was mostly liquid now. "I wish I could talk to someone about what life was like back then. I get some idea from these magical memories, but it's all what Mom felt. How do I know how much of that was real on his part?"
"I don't know, you tell me." Marie's eyes danced, as if she knew something I didn't. Or something I was unwilling to accept.
"If I knew, I wouldn't be asking you," I said, a little hotly.
"Does this have anything to do with that apprentice you're crushing on?"
I blew air out between my lips. "Yes. Part of it. I don't know. It's still weird that I like him, because I know I shouldn't. I mean, he tried to kill me. But he apologized—poorly, I might add—and he's been…well, somehow he's become my friend. And ever since we kissed, it's like I can't even think straight."
Marie nodded thoughtfully. "Any change on his part?"
"No. Yes? Maybe." I wished I was a little more together in my memories of him. "He found out Gavon and I aren't on speaking terms and that was a big deal for him. He's the one who helped me figure out how to find you." Because you are. I shivered at the memory.
"If he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't have kissed you. And I'd say helping you find your sister is a pretty big green flag that you're more than a friend."
"But he's so selfish," I said. "And rude, and—"
"Selfish people don't do nice things for other people," Marie said, looking at her glass. "At least, not unless there's something in it for them."
Sure, he'd said he wanted us to have a conversation because I was dealing with the magical memories, but was that the truth?
Because you are.
"Despite his flaws, I feel like he's the first person who's ever really understood me." I chewed my lip. "Well, not the first."
"You're lucky. I'm the only healer I know of."
I took a step back. It had never occurred to me that Marie would feel the same pressing loneliness I did.
"But I doubt it's just about that," Marie said, lifting her fingers off the glass. "It sounds like you and he have more to talk about than just flinging spells at each other."
I nodded. "It started out with just that. But I guess we're on the same wavelength. We think the same things, we have the same sense of humor. Being with him brings out this competitive urge that drives me to be better, to be stronger. I don't—"
"You're in love with him," Marie said simply, and my heart skipped a beat. "It happens."
"I shouldn't be. He's… I mean, I couldn't make a worse decision, Marie." My breath hitched. "I mean, Mom—"
"Lexie, a word of advice," Marie interrupted. "Your apprentice is not Gavon, and you are not Mom. Don't let the fear of what happened to them prevent you from experiencing something beautiful. Especially if you've got such a deep connection."
I sighed, the discussion prompting a deeper look at my own feelings. "It's not just about Gavon. I mean, that's part of it. But I think the biggest fear I have is…what if he doesn't feel the same? It could completely ruin our friendship."
"That's a risk we take with honesty. You have to ask yourself: is it worth it not to say anything? Sure, he might not feel the same, and you'll be humiliated." I frowned, but she smiled. "But he also could be in love with you, too. And neither of you would ever know if one of you didn't take a chance."
I tapped my fingers to the glass, drawing outlines of the lights below. Marie's words settled uncomfortably in my mind, perhaps because I knew how true they were. There really was nothing keeping me from taking the next step except fear of rejection.
"Look, don't just plant a kiss on him the first chance you get," Marie said after my uncomfortable silence. "Take small steps. Hold his hand. Kiss his cheek. If he freaks out, you'll know. If he lets you, there's your answer."
"Wow," I said, stepping back. "That…actually makes a lot of sense."
"You sound surprised," Marie said with a daring raise of her brow.
"More like…happy to see you." I tore my gaze away from the reflections to look at her again. "I really missed you."
Her magic surrounded me and pushed me closer to her, and she wrapped an arm around me once I was within reach. "I missed you too, loser."
I spent most of the weekend in Las Vegas with Marie. We window shopped and ate good food, and she introduced me to three different kinds of wine. But beyond that, it was a relief that our relationship could be repaired. Whatever grudge she'd held against me had faded, and it was nice to actually have a conversation with my sister without feeling like we were on the brink of war.
But the war, I felt, would be right there when I got home. I'd texted Nicole that first night to let her know where I was, and the terse reply was telling.
K
Marie wouldn't enlighten me on what exactly their fight was about, only that it had been long and a lot of hurt had been caused on both sides. I asked her if she'd ever consider making amends with Nicole, but she was noncommittal.
Sunday evening, I transported myself back to my room and braced myself for the fallout.
I put a bright smile on my face and cracked open the door, listening for the sounds of my sister. The TV was on in the living room, so I threw my shoulders back and walked out of my room.
"Hey," Nicole said, without looking up. As expected, she did not look pleased. But now that half my family was at least talking to me, I wanted to try to mend fences.
"Hey…so… Marie—"
"I don't want to talk to her or about her."
I recoiled as if she'd slapped me. "I mean, she's our sister—"
"Yes, and I love her, but that doesn't mean I have to like her."
"Okay, but not even to—"
"This isn't up for debate, Alexis. I don't want to talk about her, and if you have a problem with it, you can just move in with her."
I swallowed, the acid in her voice bringing me to tears. "Nicole, I didn't mean to…"
"No, you never mean to, but you do anyway." She pushed herself off the couch and stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her.
Twenty-Two
Nicole apologized the next morning for her outburst, but it wasn't one I would soon forget. Although Marie and I were now texting regularly, I didn't mention it to Nicole, and I didn't mention Nicole to Marie. I felt like the strangest middleman alive.
More pressing was having to go to school and face James in the wake of this new…something. I obviously couldn't avoid him forever, especially as he all but cornered me in front of my locker.
"Well?" he asked.
"Well?"
"I can only assume things went well with your sister."
I nodded. "Yeah…"
"So why aren't you happy?"
Closing my locker, I chewed on the side of my lip. "Mending fences with one broke them with another."
"Ah. Nicole, right? The potion-maker."
"Yeah." I squinted at him. "When did you get so interested in my sisters?"
"I've always known about them," he replied pointedly. "Just…making conversation. Sorry if I offended you with caring about your life."
"You didn't, I just…" Damn, but he was confusing me. I needed to change the subject—fast. "Did you spend the weekend sparring?"
"And then some." He cocked his head to the side, stretching out his muscles. "I'm still sore. I can't figure out who's more worried about it—me or Gavon."
"You? Why are you worried about it? You'll spar with Gavon, and that's that."
"I'm not worried about the match, I'm worried about what happens after it." He stared at an unseeing point in front of him. "Gavon reminded me last night that I'll be a fully independent member of the Guild. He won't be able to restrict my magic or order me around as his apprentice, though he'll still retain some control as Guildmaster." He finally lifted his gaze to me. "And in that capacity, he might restrict me from coming back here."
"Oh."
James might never come back? I wasn't sure what surprised me more: that I was upset about it, or that he was.
"Why would he do that? You're supposed to be learning, right?"
"Sometimes I think it was just a way to keep me out of trouble until the induction match. I feel like he no longer wants anything to do with me, so if I was over here, he wouldn't have to waste his time."
"What makes you say that?
"He's always criticizing me," James said. "I mean, you saw how he treats me. Everything is always my fault. I'm never good enough for him. Even when I do the right thing, there's always room for improvement."
I chewed my lip, unsure what to say. So I decided to go with humor. "And here I thought you were learning all the secrets of this world to take over."
His far-off look disappeared and he cracked a grin. "And what, pray tell, shall I do with my knowledge of social media and how to take an advanced placement test? Because, I assure you, that's all I've picked up in my year over here."
"That's not…entirely true," I said. "You also know the particulars of football."
He laughed, and I was glad to see some of the tension leaving his face. "I just don't see how it's in the Guild's best interest to keep me enrolled in high school. And Gavon is pretty particular about who he lets over here. He doesn't want to bring the wrath of the Carrigan Clan down on us needlessly. And seeing as Gavon doesn't quite believe I'm a good influence on you—or so he says…"
"It's been weeks since we got in trouble," I said with a huff. "He let us spar again. Besides that, I don't think Gavon would stop you from finishing the year. He values knowledge over strength, after all."
He glanced at me. "You think?"
"Yeah," I said firmly. Then, nervously, I asked, "You still aren't going to…challenge him for the Guildmaster, right?"
James snorted. "No. I'm not ready for that yet."
"Good," I said with a relieved sigh. "I'm actually starting to like you. I'd hate to have a reason to loathe you again."
He flashed me his charming smile again and my face turned into a tomato. "I'll try my best to stay on your good side."
James' induction match would be on his eighteenth birthday, the fourth of March, and while that was his main preoccupation, mine was checking the mailbox every day for my admissions decision. Both of us were nervous balls of anxiety, although we did our best not to show it.
At school, James spent more time talking with the friends he'd made, a little less time studying, although most of the teachers were well aware of the senioritis permeating the entire class. After school, we'd stopped by my house to check the mail, and when I hadn't received my letter, we'd go to the sparring beach. Most of the time, we read or did homework. Sometimes, we'd spar a little, or James would help me practice charms. I still didn't get them, but it made me feel better when he wasn't much better at it than I was.
My favorite afternoons, we'd just sit quietly and watch the sun set, content to be with each other in silence.
I began to wonder what life would be like with James not in it. He'd gone from my arch nemesis to the closest thing I could call a best friend in a matter of months. Sure, I had Marie back, but it wasn't the same. James got me, the same way Gavon had. And knowing I was facing the loss of such a friend hit me hard.
Especially because I hadn't moved forward on my feelings for him. Whenever I got the urge to take his hand or say something, I chickened out. By James' birthday—the last day I might ever see him—I was still waffling as to whether I should say something to him.
That day, he showed up at school with a grim expression, and I could only offer a sympathetic smile. He made no mention of the day to any of his school friends, and when I wished him a happy birthday, he just nodded.
After school, we met by my locker and said nothing to each other while our classmates gathered their things and left. Some of them stopped to talk to us, asking if someone had died, to which I just shook my head.
When the halls were empty, James finally spoke. "Let's go see if you've gotten your acceptance letter yet."
"Really?" I shook my head. "I mean, it's not—"
He grabbed my hand. "Don't say that. I have five hours to kill. Might as well."
He didn't let go of my hand all the way to our secret transport spot behind the band room, nor did he let it go when we crossed the parking lot of my apartment building. But when I crossed through the barrier, he finally had to let go.
There was no mail waiting for me, and when I returned with the news, James actually looked dejected. "I wanted to see your face when you got in."
"I don't know—"
"You'll get in."
We stood on opposite sides of the barrier, and I took in just how far we'd come. This protection wasn't even necessary anymore—it hadn't been for months—but seeing James on the other side of it was jarring. He was about to become a fully-fledged member of the Guild that had tried to enslave the nonmagicals. He was on his way to becoming the next Guildmaster. There were no guarantees that he wasn't another Cyrus.
Except I knew him. I'd spent nearly every day with him, had countless conversations. I'd begun to see glimp
ses of the real James, the one who cracked under the pressure of being the future leader of his guild, the one who relished in the glow of popularity, but was still lonely from all the lying. And this person—who'd stuck by my side over the past few weeks, who cared about my sisters and my college applications, was the one I'd stupidly fallen for.
"Will you come sit with me?" James asked, not meeting my gaze. "At the tear? Until it's time?"
I reached through the barrier and took his hand. "Sure."
Unsurprisingly, it was still cold in March in Massachusetts, but I cast a warming charm on my shirt and settled in next to James. The tear was as violent as ever, but the old fear of the man who lay on the other side of it was tempered. I'd overcome that particular fear, thanks to James.
He wore a pensive look, the lines tense around his mouth as his gaze swept from the tear to the darkening beach. The dull, gray waves proved a better scene than the pristine green waters of the gulf, punctuated by a crackle or hiss from the writhing magical tear in front of us.
"I think I'm going to miss this," he said, breaking an almost twenty-minute silence.
"What?"
"The sun setting. I'd never seen it before until I came here. It's really beautiful."
Breathing shallowly, I reached over and took his hand. "You're going to be able to come back."
He glanced at our joined hands and smiled. "It's that, and it's also…I just keep imagining that Cyrus will come up with some backwards plan to force me to fight Gavon," he said, chewing the nail on his other hand. "That's what he does, you know? He finds your weakness, exploits it, and then makes you do his bidding. And—"
I gently reached up to pull his hand down. "He can't make you do anything you don't want to. You can choose not to challenge Gavon after the induction. And he, and the rest of the Guild, will have to accept your decision. What are they gonna do? There aren't any other Warriors to take your place." I swallowed. "Right?"
Magic and Mayhem Page 17
