How I Found You

by Gabriella Lepore

  Reinforcements

  AROUND MID-AFTERNOON, SOMETHING HAPPENED THAT subsequently changed the course of events in a way that could never have been foreseen.

  We had a visitor.

  Oscar and I had been in the garden at the time. It wasn’t a warm day, nor was it particularly pleasing to the eye, what with the murky fog curtaining the landscape. But neither of us made any attempt to move back indoors, so we silently agreed to stay put. Anyway, from where we’d planted ourselves, there was a direct view to the front driveway. Parked on the gravel was Mary’s sky-blue minivan and the Valeros’ sleek black Lamborghini. There was an empty space between them, where Roger’s gold Volvo would usually slot. Of course, he was at work, ergo the space was empty.

  Not for long.

  We heard the rumbling engine before we saw the car. It snarled like a tiger, rising louder and louder until the impressive vehicle swerved into view.

  Oscar and I frowned at one another. And for a second, I thought my eyes and ears were playing tricks on me. Now, it might have seemed odd to feel so disbelieving that a car would come to Millwood. But, it was Millwood. Cars didn’t come here. The rest of the world was miles away, and we went to it. Not the other way around.

  At first we were both a little perplexed. However, when the royal blue BMW shot across the gravel, perplexed changed to worried. I didn’t know why I felt worried—as far as I knew, I had no reason to be—but Oscar froze like a deer in the headlights. My own anxiety naturally emulated his.

  The car screeched to a halt, sliding with impeccable precision between the minivan and Lamborghini.

  “That traitorous back-stabber,” I heard Oscar mutter under his breath.

  “What?” I looked to him for answers, but his focus was glued to the BMW. A stream of grey smog poured from the exhaust pipe, merging with the fogged air.

  “Who is that?” I asked, trying to peer into the blackened car windows.

  Oscar didn’t seem to hear me; his mind was elsewhere.

  The engine cut out and the driver’s door opened smoothly. Out stepped a man. He was tall and smartly dressed, with hair the colour of vanilla ice cream. He looked to be in his late twenties, though from this distance I couldn’t be sure.

  “Don’t let him see you,” Oscar hissed.

  I shrank back into the flowers.

  “Who is he?” I asked for the second time.

  “Marco,” Oscar spat out the name with vicious detest.

  “Who’s Marco?”

  “My brother,” he responded grimly.

  From our hiding place we watched Marco stride to the front door and ring the bell. He moved with long, agile steps, his head held high.

  Oscar edged forward to get a better view. He gave me a warning stay back look. I’d never seen that expression before; it was almost animal.

  Personally, I wasn’t close enough to see the front door, but I heard it all go down.

  “Marco,” Caicus greeted the newcomer, not surprised or troubled as Oscar had been. “Do come in.”

  “Hello, Caicus,” Marco replied, in a voice that oozed superiority. “I trust I find you well?”

  “Very well, thank you. And yourself? How was your journey?”

  I didn’t hear Marco’s response, because he crossed into the manor and closed the door behind them.

  Oscar swivelled around to face me. His expression was thunderous.

  “Family reunion?” I quipped.

  “An unwelcome one,” he grumbled. “And one I haven’t been invited to.” He let out an enraged breath and kicked at the grass.

  “Why is he here?” I shuffled forward to sit beside Oscar.

  “Because Caicus doesn’t trust me,” Oscar fumed. He sprung to his feet and marched across the lawn towards the house.

  “Wait!” I called after him, scrambling off the ground and rushing to catch up.

  “No, stay there,” he yelled over his shoulder.

  “No!” I snapped. “I’m in this, too, remember?”

  Oscar paused his stride.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fine,” he muttered. “Stay behind me and don’t look into his eyes.” Without further explanation, he stormed off towards the manor, flinging the door open and bursting into the hallway.

  I followed closely behind, not sure if I should be scared or angry. I decided on angry—mostly because I didn’t like the sound of scared.

  Oscar made a beeline for the kitchen.

  The first person I saw was Mary. She was standing at the breakfast bar, apron on, rolling pin in hand. Zack was in his highchair, bashing his rattle on his tray.

  “Hello,” Mary waved at us. She placed her rolling pin down and wiped her floury hands onto her apron. “Oscar, your brother has come for a visit. How nice.” By the sound of her voice, she was as confused as I was.

  On the other side of the breakfast counter, Caicus and Marco stood, both smiling cryptically.

  I could see Marco up close, now. His skin was bronzed and his hair and eyes were as pale as clotted cream. Without a doubt, he was outstandingly handsome. Striking, even. It was difficult to peel my eyes away.

  “Hello,” Marco purred. He offered me his hand. “My name is Marco Valero. And you are?”

  I warily shook his hand, all the while conscious of Oscar’s barbed body language.

  “I’m Rose,” I said, a little more meekly than I would have liked.

  When I stepped back from him, I noticed Oscar’s shoulders relax a fraction.

  Then Marco pivoted towards Mary. He extended his long fingers out to her.

  “Pleasure to meet you both,” he charmed her, sinuously.

  Mary took his hand, staring deep into his talcum powder eyes. “Hello,” she managed, utterly tongue-tied.

  Caicus stood aside, smiling amiably. Thick strands of caramel hair curved into a neat frame around his own frosted eyes, which he now cast upon Mary, breaking her connection with Marco.

  I didn’t like this. I didn’t like it at all.

  “Mary,” Caicus said, “as I was saying,” he glanced briefly at Oscar, “Marco is our brother. It’s okay if he stays with us for a few days, isn’t it?”

  Completely spellbound, Mary nodded her head. “Of course.”

  “Thank you,” Caicus cooed in delight.

  Now Marco joined the game, directing Mary’s eyes back to him. “How very generous of you. You have a lovely home.”

  Mary’s jaw dropped open. Dumbfounded, she plonked down onto a kitchen stool and gawped at the new guest.

  Marco cocked his head towards me. “Rose,” he spoke my name as though it tasted sweet on his lips, “my brothers informed me of your beauty, but their praise does not do you justice.”

  Oscar groaned. “Give it a rest, Romeo. Nobody likes a kiss-ass.”

  “Little brother,” Marco glanced at Oscar, and then at me, “have you no etiquette?”

  Caicus cleared his throat. “Uh, Mary,” he said, severing through the tension, “would you be so kind as to take Zack outside for a moment?” He thanked her before hearing her response.

  Entranced by him, Mary obliged. Two humans down, one to go. I stood in the kitchen with three Valero witches. Three fiercely handsome witches—though I had a feeling that things were about to get ugly.

  “What a great surprise,” Oscar jeered through clenched teeth. “Marco’s here.” He looked accusingly at Caicus.

  Caicus shrugged his shoulders. “Three heads are better than two.”

  Oscar’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll bet they are.”

  The boys fell into a hush. I had been in their company for long enough to spot when they were communicating telepathically. Like now, for instance.

  After a lengthy silence, Marco spoke. “So, this is her.” He motioned to me. “The infamous prophecy girl.”

  I shrank away from his intrusive gaze. Despite his placid beauty and refined demeanour, there was something about Marco that frightened me to the core. My beware-of-the-dark-alley radar was spiralling off
the scale.

  As if sensing my discomfort, Oscar stood in front of me, which I was infinitely pleased about.

  Marco sneered. “Well, isn’t that something?” he remarked contemptuously. “Oscar’s found himself a pet.”

  Oscar stared steadily at him.

  “I thought you were exaggerating, Caicus,” Marco went on, “but now I see your words ring true. Seems I arrived just in the nick of time.”

  I stood, motionless and vulnerable; it was all I could do. To my surprise, I noticed Caicus was doing the same. Oscar and Marco, on the other hand, were like two lions, ready to pounce at the drop of a hat.

  “Come now, Oscar,” Marco said in a low, fluid murmur, “aren’t you going to let me talk to the girl?”

  Oscar laughed bitterly. “Nothing you can say will be of any interest.”

  Marco flashed his perfect white teeth, but it was more of a snarl than a smile. “Are you afraid I’ll work my magic on her?”

  “Your magic is useless on her,” Oscar retorted. “She’s immune.”

  Marco signalled to Caicus for confirmation.

  “It’s true,” Caicus verified. “My power doesn’t work on her. Yours probably won’t either.”

  “May I see this for myself?” Marco requested, in an unnervingly polite manner. “Not that I don’t trust you two boys, but let’s face it, you hardly have the greatest track record.”

  Caicus and Oscar glanced at one another, and I could have sworn they grinned.

  “Well?” Marco pushed. “Step aside, Oscar.”

  Oscar remained faithfully in front of me.

  “No, thanks,” he replied coolly.

  I peeked around my protector. Marco was glaring at him, and Caicus was bursting with nervous energy.

  “You want to talk to me?” I said, boldly. Well, as boldly as I could when I’d been scared out of my wits.

  Marco’s lips crooked upwards and he met my eyes. “I’d like that very much.”

  All of a sudden, I felt sick. Dizzy, too. Looking into Marco’s vanilla eyes was like looking at the world through distorted mirrors. Kind of appealing, but mostly it just made me want to vomit.

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Marco uttered seductively.

  I tore my gaze away from him and waited for my head to stop spinning.

  “Well?” Caicus urged, virtually salivating in anticipation.

  “Well, what?” I asked.

  “What do you think of Marco?” Caicus spoke with such jumbled excitement that his words came out disjointed.

  “Umm… He made me feel sick,” I clarified.

  Oscar and Caicus exploded into a fit of laughter. Evidently unimpressed, Marco shot them a vicious glower.

  “Sick?” Caicus repeated, still battling to catch his breath. “So, no uncontrollable feelings of love or adoration?”

  “For him?” I pointed sceptically at Marco. “No. Just sick.”

  Marco struggled to remain impervious, but I could tell he wasn’t accustomed to being anything other than irresistible.

  Caicus sniggered quietly, but Oscar continued to laugh openly.

  “That’s that, then,” Oscar concurred, distinctly satisfied. “I think we’ve all learnt something today. A valuable life lesson.”

  Marco raised his chin.

  Oscar’s grin broadened. “Caicus, care to tell big brother what we’ve learnt?”

  “That you’re never as hot as you think you are,” Caicus offered.

  He and Oscar guffawed again.

  Marco straightened the collar of his shirt. “Tomorrow is the resurrection,” he barked. “There’s no time for childish games. We have work to do.”

  Oscar rolled his eyes. “We are on top of it. We have been working on this for weeks. Or have you forgotten who was assigned this mission?”

  Marco arched an eyebrow. “You were not assigned to the mission as a reflection of your capabilities, Oscar. Do not for a second think that any of the coven elders were pleased about your involvement. My only solace is that Caicus had the sense to call for reinforcement.”

  “No, I didn’t,” Caicus objected. “I merely called to update you on our progress.”

  “And sell me out,” Oscar griped.

  “No!” Caicus cried. “But… I’m worried about you, Oscar. You’re acting…”

  All three of them looked at me, as though they’d just remembered I was in the room.

  “You did the right thing,” Marco told Caicus. “There is no shame in requiring assistance. We recognised a cry for help; we had anticipated as much.”

  Oscar gave him the finger.

  “Now, now,” Marco scolded him, “I am your brother. And I’m here to help you. You certainly need my help.”

  “The coven may not have chosen me for this task,” Oscar acknowledged, “but the prophecy did. This is my mission, not yours.”

  Marco’s air was indifferent. “Yes, you have visions. But that does not deem you able. The coven has lost faith in you. Even your cohort has lost faith in you.”

  “Hey!” Caicus protested. “I haven’t lost faith in him.”

  Oscar tusked loudly. “You’ve got a funny way of showing it, back-stabber.”

  Caicus clutched his heart. “I would never stab your back. All of my stabbing is done upfront.”

  Huh? These boys were eccentric, to say the least.

  I raised my hand. “Excuse me.”

  They all stared at me.

  “What’s going on here? Why have you lost faith in Oscar?” Something told me I was way out of my depth.

  Oscar knotted his fingers through his hair. “Forget them, Rose,” he replied tautly. “Their faith means nothing to me. I’ll do what I have to do.”

  Now it was Marco and Caicus who exchanged a private look.

  I gripped Oscar’s sleeve as he abruptly steered me out of the kitchen.

  “We can still stop Lathiaus, can’t we?” I whispered.

  He answered with a reassuring smile, but I could tell that on the inside he was falling to pieces.

  Something Old, Something New, Something Broken in Two

  “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!”

  I groaned and pulled the bedcovers up over my head.

  “Happy Birthday!” Oscar sang out again. He peeled back the covers and grinned broadly at me.

  I squinted, adjusting to the sudden influx of daylight. A few seconds ago I had been deep in slumberland.

  “Are you having a nice day?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure yet,” I garbled.

  “Oh. Never mind, then. What would you like to do today?”

  “Sleep.” I wriggled further under the covers.

  He shook me. “No more sleeping. Eight hours is enough.”

  “Eight hours?” I peered up at him quizzically. “That’s the most I’ve slept in weeks.”

  Oscar’s eyes glowed like hot embers and his dark hair fell tousled around his brow. “Happy Birthday,” he said again, winking.

  I yawned and kicked off the bedding.

  “That’s more like it!” Oscar applauded. “Shall we go downstairs? They’re all waiting for you.”

  Okay, my tatty, purple-checked pyjamas were hardly the most glamorous birthday ensemble, but they’d have to do for now. I rolled out of bed, moving at a comfortably sluggish pace. Well, until Oscar intervened, jostling me out of my room and practically frog-marching me downstairs.

  We swept into the kitchen and Oscar presented me to Mary, Roger and Zack, who were seated around the breakfast table.

  Roger and Mary cheered.

  “Happy Birthday!” Mary hooted.

  “Happy Birthday!” Roger clapped his hands as though I’d achieved something momentous.

  I grinned. “Thanks. You’re not at work, Uncle Roger?”

  “I told them I’d be late this morning. It is a special day, after all.”

  “Open your presents,” Mary insisted, sliding three gold-wrapped boxed across the breakfast bar.

  I took a seat on one of the stools. “You did
n’t have to get me presents.”

  “Of course we did,” Mary gushed. “It’s your birthday!”

  I stacked my gifts in a neat pile and tackled them one by one. Four pairs of eager eyes watched me on tenterhooks.

  The first box I opened contained a pack of bath salts, all shaped like mini cupcakes—very cute. Next I unwrapped a book.

  “Double Jeopardy,” I read the title aloud.

  Mary nodded her head enthusiastically. “It’s a thriller,” she informed me. “I’ve never read it, but I think the idea is that if a man’s been convicted of a crime he didn’t commit, then in theory, if he ever did commit the crime in future, he’s already served his time for it. Is that right, Roger?”

  Roger leaned over to see the book cover. “Hmm. Could be. I believe that ‘double jeopardy’ is the term used for the second prosecution of the same crime. I don’t know about all that ‘getting away with it’ business, though.”

  “It’s only fiction, Roger.” Mary waved her hand to hush him.

  “Looks good,” I said, placing the book down on the table. “Thanks. I’m in need of a new book. I’ve already read all of yours.”

  Mary chortled warmly. “Now this one,” she urged, nudging the final gold present.

  I tore the wrapper off and opened up the dainty jewellery box.

  It was a brooch.

  “It’s a poppy,” I murmured, lifting it to the light. Under normal circumstances, I probably wouldn’t have been overly keen on a brooch. But today I absolutely adored it. I knew instantly that it had been bought for me out of love. I saw the influences that had each played a part: my aunt and Oscar. I knew they’d chosen it together.

  They looked at me, nervously, trying to measure my reaction.

  Mary cleared her throat. “If you don’t like it, we can take it back to the shop—”

  “No,” I stopped her. “No. I love it.” I hopped off my stool and hugged her. Then I hugged Roger and baby Zack. And lastly, Oscar.

  His arms linked around me.

  “Good choice,” I whispered into his ear.

  “I never make a bad one,” he whispered back.

  I returned to my stool, temporarily pinning the brooch onto my pyjama top.

  After the customary present giving, Roger left for work and Mary produced a tray of freshly baked breakfast muffins.