You Only Spell Twic

by Paige Howland

  Good. Wait. “Did I pass out?” How embarrassing.

  Ryerson and Alec exchanged a look.

  “Sort of,” Alec said.

  I frowned at them. Clearly, there was something they weren’t telling me. I tried to think back. I remembered Ryerson and Alec, surrounded by the Ninth Command. I remembered watching them from the car, and then … and then everything went fuzzy. Dark.

  So how did I get out here? And where did the Ninth Command go?

  “One of you had better start talking or I’ll turn you both into toads.” I didn’t know how to turn someone into a toad, but they both tensed. I frowned harder. And wrinkled my nose, because the air smelled weird. Acrid and thick. Smoky.

  “Is something burning?”

  Alec nodded. “The street is on fire.”

  “What?” I scrambled to my feet. Another wave of nausea nearly sent me right back down, but Ryerson steadied me with a warm hand to my back as I spun around.

  Sure enough, the street was on fire. Flames leapt from the windows of buildings, while black smoke billowed toward the sky. A charred piece of roof tumbled off the auto body shop and into the parking lot. I stared at the smoking pile of shingles and tar paper, uncomprehending.

  “Please tell me there are no people in those buildings,” I whispered.

  “There aren’t,” Ryerson said. “We already checked.”

  “I don’t get it. Why would the Ninth Command do this?”

  Alec gave me a funny look. “They didn’t do this, dove. You did.”

  I stared at him, waiting for one of them to tell me he was kidding, but neither of them cracked a smile. “That’s not funny.” Not to mention impossible. Even at full strength, I’d never be able to come close to destruction like this.

  What was happening to me?

  Alec rubbed his jaw. “Yeah, the Ninth Command didn’t think so either.”

  Speaking of murderous gangsters. “Where are they?” As soon as the words left my mouth a terrible thought occurred to me. If I had set the street on fire and couldn’t remember doing it, what if … what if I hadn’t stopped there? Dread swept through me, and I swayed. Ryerson’s arm curved around my waist, steadying me. “Did I …”

  Alec shook his head. “No, you didn’t fry them. Just scared the ever-loving crap out of them. I’ve never seen grown men run so fast.”

  “Scared us too,” Ryerson said softly. “What happened?”

  Good question. “I-I’m not sure. The last thing I remember was waiting in the car, and the next thing I know, I woke up out here.”

  “Who’s ‘she’?” Ryerson asked.

  “What?”

  “When you came out of the car, you said something. It sounded like a warning. You said, ‘She’s here.’”

  “I … I don’t know.”

  I glanced up at Ryerson. His expression was grim.

  “What now?” I said.

  “The plan doesn’t change. We get to the airport and go after the Grimoire.”

  “Now would be good,” Alec added, glancing into the distance. “This street is about to become real crowded.”

  Since our car had two flat tires, we piled into one of the trucks the Ninth Command had left behind in their haste to get away. From me, apparently. Because I’d fricasseed a street and couldn’t remember doing it. How was that even possible? Blacking out aside, I didn’t possess nearly the amount of magic a rune like that required, much less know a rune or spell that would accomplish it.

  I still didn’t know what to make of that, so I shoved it to the back of my mind to think about later. As we drove away, I finally heard the sirens Alec’s werewolf hearing had picked up immediately.

  We avoided the main roads and navigated the back streets. In the end, we drove to Rio de Janeiro. We lost a few hours, but as Ryerson pointed out, we’d lose more time than that if we ran into the Ninth Command again.

  Which meant I spent the next five hours sandwiched between Ryerson and Alec as they went back to ignoring each other. They were getting really good at it.

  I probably should have spent that time trying to figure out what had happened to me back there, and why my magic was suddenly equipped with a flame thrower, but using so much magic had cost me, and I was just so tired. I must have fallen asleep on Alec’s shoulder because the next thing I knew he was nudging me awake.

  “Morning, dove,” he said softly. “We’re here.”

  I blinked blearily and followed him out of the truck. The sky had darkened, and a chill had crept in. I shoved my hands in my pockets and stomped my feet to keep warm, but the wind picked up, rendering all my efforts moot.

  “Veni in cor traiecto ossa spirituum et calefaciat dominum meum,” I muttered to myself then froze as I realized what I had just said.

  Um, since when did I speak Latin?

  “Did you say something?” Alec asked.

  “Me? Nope. No. Definitely not.”

  He raised an eyebrow and then turned to speak with the parking attendant who approached him.

  Which was good, because I had bigger problems. Inside my jeans pockets, my hands glowed blue with unspent magic. Magic I didn’t call. I yanked them out and stared at them, uncomprehending.

  Don’t dither, dear. Clasp them together and release the magic, said that voice inside my head, a voice that definitely wasn’t me, and I yelped.

  Ryerson was unloading our bags from the truck bed, but he paused and shot me a questioning glance. I waved him away and hurried around the front of the truck.

  “Who are you?” I whispered, because I was starting to believe that voice inside my head might not be a hallucination at all. And the alternative was worse. So much worse.

  I think you know, dear. I’m—

  “What are you doing?”

  I jumped and spun around, heart hammering, to find Ryerson watching me with a look of concern on his face. I shoved my hands behind my back. The moment they touched, magic swept through me, leaving a trail of warmth and banishing all remnants of the chill I had felt. A warming spell then.

  “N-nothing,” I spluttered.

  His expression clearly said he didn’t believe me. I thought about telling him the truth, but what was I supposed to say? I was hearing voices and accidentally performing spells I had never learned? He’d probably sit me on the first plane back to DC. Besides, it was probably nothing. Just regular, run-of-the-mill, magic-hangover-induced hallucinations. Totally plausible.

  “Fine,” Ryerson said. “Come on. Shuttle’s here.” He turned and shouldered both our bags and headed toward the idling mini-bus.

  I pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly then started after him.

  You’re welcome, said the voice inside my head.

  A shiver that had nothing to do with the weather swept through me, because in that moment I realized I’d heard that voice before. In Aunt Belinda’s shop and again at Isadora’s tenement apartment. Which meant …

  No. It wasn’t possible.

  What color am I thinking of? I thought.

  A green that looks suspiciously like the color of the dark-haired one’s eyes, said the voice.

  Yep. I was definitely possessed.

  14

  I tried arguing with the voice in my head that I wasn’t a medium like Eugenia, and therefore it couldn’t possess me.

  The voice disagreed.

  Apparently, spirits can possess anyone. Mediums are simply easier to talk through since they’re more naturally attuned to whatever ghostly frequency spirits use to communicate with. Which apparently explained why it took a while for the voice to be able to speak to me in more than random bursts of thought after it possessed me at Isadora’s apartment. Something about ghosts having to tune us non-mediums like a ham radio. I don’t know. I was too busy trying not to hyperventilate to pay much attention to the magical logistics of it.

  Because I was freaking the hex out.

  My first impulse was to tell Ryerson about my predicament. I doubted he could help—his expertise w
as more of the non-magical variety—but it would be nice to know I wasn’t in this alone.

  Tell him or the blond one about me and I’ll take you over again and rip off their ears and make you eat them.

  I grimaced. That’s so gross, I thought back.

  Thank you.

  Realization dawned on me. Wait, are you the one who set that street on fire?

  Yes. You were being useless. You’re welcome, by the way.

  Ghosts can just take over people’s bodies like that??

  Not all the time, she admitted and then refused to elaborate further.

  As much as being possessed sucked, I felt a little better knowing I wasn’t capable of destroying an entire city block in a fit of rage. Of course, that meant I was possessed by a witch who was capable of destroying an entire city block in a fit of rage. So maybe not a lot better.

  What do you want? I asked while I smiled through my teeth at Alec. He was sitting across from me on the airport shuttle, frowning at me. Like he knew something was off, he just wasn’t sure what.

  The Grimoire, of course. I thought I made that clear at Belinda’s shop. It’s mine, after all.

  Aunt Belinda was right. Great-great-aunt Myrna was the worst.

  “Are you okay?” Alec asked.

  “Peachy.” To the voice, I said, why do you think it’s yours?

  Of course it’s mine. It belonged to my coven, after all. Now I want it back.

  I must have made a noise of surprise, because Alec gave me a strange look. “You sure you’re okay?”

  “Never better.”

  Alec didn’t look convinced. That made two of us, as I tried to wrap my head around the fact that my great-great-aunt Myrna had been part of the Coven of the First Flame. Let’s say I believe you. Why do you want it now?

  Never you mind about that, dear. All you need to know is once I get what I need from it and from you, I’ll leave you be.

  Perfect. Just bloody perfect.

  How did you even find the Grimoire at Isadora’s? And why not possess her?

  I followed you to the CIA, of course. Sat in—I coughed and felt the ghost roll her eyes—fine, hovered in your little secret meeting and then popped in on the Brazilian witch. And I would have possessed her, if she had managed to keep her hands on the book.

  I had so many more questions for the voice—which was what I’d decided to call her, because admitting that my dead aunt was squatting in my head was just too weird, even for me—but we’d reached the main terminal.

  As we stepped off the shuttle and neared the airport doors, Ryerson and Alec argued through their teeth about which one of them would buy plane tickets.

  “You don’t know where we’re going. Or any of my aliases,” Alec pointed out.

  “You could tell me,” Ryerson said under his breath.

  “Or I could just buy the tickets,” Alec said reasonably.

  “Or I could report you both to airport police,” I gritted out. I had enough to worry about without their constant bickering.

  We could fry them, the voice said thoughtfully.

  “What, no!” I said, alarmed.

  Alec and Ryerson froze just inside the airport doors and stared at me.

  “What’s wrong?” said Ryerson.

  “Er,” I waved at a restaurant down the concourse, “the sushi bar is closed.”

  They blinked at me.

  “What? I really wanted sushi.”

  The voice gave the mental equivalent of a shoulder shrug. Suit yourself.

  Ryerson tore his gaze from mine long enough to give Alec two names I didn’t recognize. Alec went off to buy tickets, and I used the time to scope out the airport.

  Ryerson noticed. “Don’t worry. I doubt the Ninth Command followed us here. It’s well outside their territory.”

  “I’m not looking for them.”

  “What are you looking for—oh.”

  He followed my gaze to a Cinnabon.

  “Seriously?” he said.

  I shrugged. The sushi cover wasn’t a total lie. “I’m hungry.”

  “You’re always hungry,” he said, but he sounded amused.

  Hard to argue with that.

  I decided not to mention that I wasn’t just hungry, I was famished. Magic required energy, and I’d expended a lot of it lately. I needed to refuel.

  “One cinnamon roll or two?”

  I felt Golem, who had curled up in my pocket at some point during the long car ride, stir at the mention of sugar. “Two, please.”

  Ryerson grinned down at me, and I inhaled sharply. He looked … happy. The tense lines around his mouth were gone, and his gaze was completely focused on me, as if he suddenly didn’t have another care in the world. Then he bent down and gave me a swift kiss on the cheek.

  When he pulled away, I stared at him.

  “What?” he said.

  “You’re freaking me out.”

  “What part of me offering to buy you a cinnamon roll freaks you out?”

  Um. “All of it?”

  His smile lost a little of its luster, but he wrapped an arm around my waist and tugged me close then bent down to whisper in my ear, “We have a cover to maintain, remember? Until we step onto that plane, you and I are in love.”

  His warm breath lifted the hair at my ear, and a shiver ran through me. I could still feel the imprint of his lips on my cheek. It was enough to make me forget, just for a moment, the ghost living in my head.

  “Right,” I said, trying not to feel disappointed that it was all an act. “I just …” Just what? Thought he suddenly got it into his head to flirt with me? This was Ryerson, after all.

  He watched me a moment longer, those deep green eyes lingering on mine, then straying down to my mouth. My heart rate quickened, blood thundering in my ears. It’s just an act, it’s just an act, I repeated to myself so I wouldn’t do something stupid, like push up on tiptoes and finally find out what those beautifully curved lips tasted like.

  Something over my shoulder caught his attention and he stepped back, leaving me reeling at his sudden absence.

  Then Alec was there, handing us each a boarding pass. I glanced at it, and my eyes widened. Nouakchott? What continent was that even on?

  Ryerson frowned at his too. I figured he was probably wondering the same thing, until he said to Alec, “Seriously?”

  “Is that a problem?” Alec replied, a challenge in his tone.

  I glanced between them, clearly missing something. “What’s wrong? Have you two been there before?”

  “Once,” Ryerson said then let it go. He pointed at my ticket. “These seats are nowhere near each other.”

  Alec shrugged. “It’s last minute. I couldn’t get two together.”

  Ryerson’s eyes narrowed. “Sure you couldn’t. Let me see your ticket.”

  Alec sighed. “You need to work on your trust issues.”

  But he didn’t hand over his ticket.

  “You wouldn’t be sending us to a random, isolated country while you go after the book, would you?”

  Startled, I glanced at Alec. That thought hadn’t even occurred to me. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”

  From the way he looked at me it was clear that he not only would, but that he’d at least considered it.

  “No,” he said finally. “I wouldn’t do that to you, dove.” As if to prove the point, he stepped closer and took my hand, rubbing his thumb over the leather at my wrist. His other hand brushed my hip.

  “See you on the other side of the world, okay?”

  I nodded.

  “We have a cover to maintain, remember?” Ryerson said, his voice low and growly.

  “We’re in Rio,” Alec said. “I doubt the Ninth Command followed us here.” But he dropped my hand and stepped back. Then he winked at Ryerson and strode off into the airport.

  Ryerson followed him with his eyes, frowning. Then he looked back at me and the leather bracelet I was rubbing. It was a nervous habit I’d picked up years ago. I stopped the s
econd Ryerson noticed, but it was too late.

  “You always wear that,” he said. “What is it?”

  “Alec’s shoelace. The last time he left home, he gave it to me and promised he’d come back for it one day.”

  It sounded weird when I said it out loud, but at the time it had felt anything but silly. Then again, at the time I had been completely in love with Alec. Alec didn’t know that, of course. To him, I’d always just been his best friend’s slightly annoying little sister. But that day, well, it was the first time I’d felt like something more to him. Two and a half years later, the CIA told us he was dead. I’d cried for a week.

  And now? Now he was back in my life.

  Sort of. As often as he popped into my life these days, he always seemed to disappear just as quickly. That thought, and others, swirled through my head as I watched him disappear into the crowd.

  Like was I still in love with him?

  I honestly didn’t know how I felt anymore.

  I dragged myself out of my thoughts to find Ryerson watching me, his expression carefully neutral.

  “And you’ve worn it ever since,” he said.

  I studied him, wondering at the flat inflection of his voice. “Yeah. Do you think Alec will be there when we get there?”

  He was quiet for a long moment, almost like he was gauging what the answer meant to me. Eventually, he looked away. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go get you that cinnamon roll.”

  15

  The cinnamon roll was delicious. I broke the second one into quarter-sized pieces that I dropped into my pocket as we walked through the airport. Golem munched them happily and then fell back asleep, his soft snores vibrating against my hip. Apparently, golems sleep a lot.

  The flight to Nouakchott was long and uneventful. The voice was blissfully quiet. The plane was only half full, but my seat was about as far from Ryerson’s as it could get. In fact, I had a row all to myself while Ryerson was stuck in a middle seat catercorner to the bathroom and in between a man with a crying infant and a woman who snored most of the flight.

  If I didn’t know better, I’d think Alec had lied about being unable to find two seats together. I hoped Ryerson would move to my row during the flight, but he didn’t, and I tried not to take it personally. Especially since he knew how nervous I got on planes. In the end it was a good thing he’d stayed away, since I spent most of the flight nursing an epic headache and the mother of all magic hangovers.