The Indigo Spell b-3

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The Indigo Spell b-3 Page 19

by Richelle Mead


  Neither Adrian nor I said anything right away. I’d taken note of her weary state when she got in the car but hadn’t thought much more about it. As we’d continued to practice out here, I’d observed her sweating and looking more fatigued, but I’d written it off to the heat. Only now could I fully appreciate the extent of what she had done.

  “Why would you go to so much effort?” I asked.

  “To keep you alive,” she snapped. “Now, don’t make this a waste. We’ve only got one more hour before it wears off, and you need to be able to aim at someone without thinking twice. You hesitate too much.”

  She was right. Even knowing that she was invulnerable, I still had a difficult time attacking her. Violence just wasn’t something I embraced. I had to push down all my inner worries and treat it exactly like Skee-Ball. Aim, throw. Aim, throw. Don’t think.

  Soon, I was able to fight past my anxieties and throw without hesitation. She even tried moving around a little, just to give me a better feel for what it’d be like with a real foe, but I didn’t find it to be much of a challenge. She was simply too tired and unable to run around or dodge me. I actually started to feel bad for her. She looked like she was about ready to pass out, and I felt guilty sizing up my next shot and—

  “Ahh!”

  Fire arced from Ms. Terwilliger’s fingertips just as I released my fireball. My shot went wide, the ball disintegrating before it got anywhere near her. The fire she’d released passed me, about a foot away. With a weary grin, she sank to her knees and exhaled.

  “Class dismissed,” she said.

  “What was that?” I asked. “I don’t have a magic shield on me!”

  She didn’t display my same concern. “It was nowhere near you. I made sure of that. It was simply to prove that no matter how ‘boring and easy’ this seems, all bets are off when someone is actually attacking you. Now then. Adrian, would you be kind enough to bring me my bag? I have some dried dates in there that I think both Sydney and I would appreciate right about now.”

  She was right. I’d been so caught up in the lesson that I hadn’t noticed how exhausted I had become. She was in worse shape, but the magic had definitely taken its toll on me. I’d never worked with amounts this big for so long, and my body felt weak and drained as the usual blood sugar drop occurred. I began to understand why she kept warning me away from the really difficult stuff. I practically inhaled the dried dates she’d brought for us, and although the sugar helped, I was desperate for more. Adrian gallantly helped us both walk back to the parking lot at the park’s entrance, keeping one of us on each arm.

  “Too bad we’re out in the middle of nowhere,” I grumbled, once we were all in Adrian’s car. “I think you’d be amazed at how much I could eat right now. I’ll probably faint before we’re back to some civilization and restaurants.”

  “Actually,” said Adrian. “You might be in luck. I think I saw a place not far from here when we were driving in.”

  I hadn’t noticed anything, but I’d been too preoccupied worrying about Ms. Terwilliger’s upcoming lesson. Five minutes after we were back on the highway, I saw that Adrian was right about a restaurant. He exited onto a drab little road, pulling into the gravel parking lot of a small but freshly painted white building.

  I stared at the sign out front in disbelief.

  “Pies and Stuff?”

  “You wanted sugar,” Adrian reminded me. The Mustang kicked up dust and gravel, and I winced on behalf of the car. “And at least it’s not Pies and Bait or anything like that.”

  “Yeah, but the ‘Stuff’ part isn’t exactly reassuring.”

  “I thought it was more the ‘Pie’ part that had you upset.”

  Despite my misgivings, Pies and Stuff was actually a cute and clean little establishment. Polka-dot curtains hung in the windows, and the display case was filled with every pie imaginable as well as “stuff” like carrot cake and brownies. We were the only people under sixty in the whole place.

  We ordered our pie and sat down with it in a corner booth. I ordered peach, Adrian had French silk, and Ms. Terwilliger went with pecan. And of course, she and I had the waitress bring us coffee as soon as humanly possible since we’d had to abstain, painfully, for the magic. I took a sip and immediately felt better.

  Adrian ate his slice at a reasonable rate, like a normal person, but Ms. Terwilliger and I dug in as though we hadn’t eaten in a month. Conversation was irrelevant. Only pie mattered. Adrian regarded us both with delight and didn’t try to interrupt until we’d practically licked the plates clean.

  He nodded toward mine. “Another piece?”

  “I’ll take more coffee.” I eyed the sparkling plate and couldn’t help but notice that inner voice that used to nag me about calories was quiet these days. In fact, it didn’t seem to be around anymore at all. I’d been so angry about Adrian’s food “intervention,” but his words had ended up having a bigger impact than I’d expected. Not that it had anything to do with him personally, of course. Lightening up my dieting restrictions was just a reasonable idea. That was it. “I feel pretty good now.”

  “I’ll get you another cup,” he told me. When he returned, he even had a mug for Ms. Terwilliger. “Figured you’d want one too.”

  She smiled in appreciation. “Thank you. You’re very astute.” As she drank, I couldn’t help but notice she still looked tired, despite the fact that we’d just replenished with sugar. She no longer seemed in danger of passing out, but it was obvious she hadn’t recovered as quickly as I had.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked her.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.” She sipped more coffee, her face lost in thought. “It’s been years since I performed the shield spell. I forgot how much it takes out of me.”

  I was again struck by all the trouble she’d gone through for me. Ever since she’d identified me as a potential magic user, I’d done nothing but resist her and even be antagonistic.

  “Thanks,” I told her. “For everything . . . I wish there was a way I could make it up to you.”

  She set her cup down and stirred in more sugar. “I’m happy to do it. There’s no need to reciprocate. Although . . . once this is all over, I’d like very much if you’d meet my coven. I’m not asking you to join,” she added quickly. “Just to talk. I think you’d find the Stelle very interesting.”

  “Stelle,” I repeated. She’d never called them by name before. “The stars.”

  Ms. Terwilliger nodded. “Yes. Our origins are Italian, though as you’ve seen already, the magic we use comes from a number of cultures.”

  I was at a loss for words. She’d gone to so much trouble for me . . . surely it wasn’t a big deal just to talk to the other witches, right? But if it was such a small thing, then why was I terrified? The answer came to me a few moments later. Talking to others, seeing the larger organization, would kick my involvement with magic up to the next level. It had taken me a long time to come around to the magic I already used. I’d overcome many of my fears, but some part of me treated it as just some sideline activity. Like a hobby. Meeting other witches would change everything. I would have to accept that I was part of something so much bigger than just the occasional dabbling. Meeting a coven seemed official. And I didn’t know if I was ready to be considered a witch.

  “I’ll think about it,” I said at last. I wished I could give her more, but my protective instincts had seized me.

  “I’ll take what I can get,” she said with a small smile. Her phone chimed, and she glanced down. “Speaking of the Stelle, I need to talk to one of my sisters. I’ll meet you at the car.” She finished her coffee and headed outside.

  Adrian and I followed a few minutes later. I was still troubled about the coven and caught hold of his sleeve to keep him back. I spoke softly.

  “Adrian, when did I reach this point? Trying to crack open the Alchemists and practicing magic in the desert?” Last summer, when I’d been with Rose in Russia, I couldn’t even tolerate the idea of sleepi
ng in the same room with her. I’d had too many Alchemist mantras running through my mind, warning me of vampire evils. And now, here I was, in league with vampires and questioning the Alchemists. That girl in Russia had nothing in common with the one in Palm Springs.

  No, I’m still the same person at heart. I had to be . . . because if I wasn’t, then who was I?

  Adrian smiled at me sympathetically. “I think it’s been a culmination of things. Your curious nature. Your need to do the right thing. It’s all led you to this point. I know the Alchemists have taught you to think a certain way, but what you’re doing now—it’s not wrong.”

  I raked my hand through my hair. “And yet, despite all of that, I can’t bring myself to have one tiny conversation with Ms. Terwilliger’s coven.”

  “You have boundaries.” He gently smoothed one of my wayward locks. “Nothing wrong with that.”

  “Marcus would say it’s the tattoo holding me back.”

  Adrian dropped his hand. “Marcus says a lot of things.”

  “I don’t think Marcus is trying to deceive me. He believes in his cause, and I’m still worried about mind control . . . but honestly, it’s hard to believe I’m being held back when I’m out here doing stuff like this.” I gestured outside, to where Ms. Terwilliger was. “Alchemist dogma says this magic is unnatural and wrong.”

  Adrian’s smile returned. “If it makes you feel better, you actually looked natural out there—back in the park.”

  “Doing . . . what? Throwing fireballs?” I shook my head. “There’s nothing natural about that.”

  “You wouldn’t think so, but . . . well. You were . . . amazing, throwing that fire like some kind of ancient warrior goddess.”

  Annoyed, I turned away. “Stop making fun of me.”

  He caught my arm and pulled me back toward him. “I am absolutely serious.”

  I swallowed, speechless for a moment. All I was aware of was how close we were, that he was holding me to him with only a few inches between us. Almost as close as at the sorority. “I’m not a warrior or a goddess,” I managed at last.

  Adrian leaned closer. “As far as I’m concerned, you’re both.”

  I knew that look in his eyes. I knew because I’d seen it before. I expected him to kiss me, but instead, he ran his finger along the side of my neck. “There it is, huh? Badge of honor.”

  It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the hickey. It had faded but wasn’t entirely gone. I pulled away. “It is not! It was a mistake. You were out of line doing that to me.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Sage, I distinctly remember every part of that night. You didn’t seem that unwilling. You were practically on top of me.”

  “I don’t really remember the details,” I lied.

  He moved his hand from my neck and rested a fingertip on my lips. “But I’ll stick to just kissing these if it makes you feel better. No mark.” He started to lean toward me, and I jerked away.

  “You will not! It’s wrong.”

  “What, kissing you, or kissing you in Pies and Stuff?”

  I glanced around, suddenly aware that we were creating a dinner show for the senior citizens, even if they couldn’t hear us. I backed up.

  “Both,” I said, feeling my cheeks burn. “If you’re going to attempt something inappropriate—something you said you wouldn’t do anymore—then you could at least pick a better place.”

  He laughed softly, and the look in his eyes confused me further. “Okay,” he said. “The next time I kiss you, I promise it’ll be in a more romantic place.”

  “I—what? No! You shouldn’t try at all!” I began moving toward the door, and he fell in step with me. “What happened to loving me from a distance? What happened to not, um, bringing up any of this stuff?” For someone who was allegedly just going to watch from afar, he wasn’t doing a very good job. And I was doing an even worse job of being indifferent.

  He moved in front of the door and blocked my way. “I said I wouldn’t—if you don’t want me to. But you’re kind of giving me mixed signals, Sage.”

  “I am not,” I said, amazed that I could even say that with a straight face. Even I didn’t believe it. “You’re presumptuous and arrogant and a whole lot of other things if you think I’ve changed my mind.”

  “You see, that’s just it.” There he was again, moving into my space. “I think you like the ‘other things.’”

  I shook off my daze and pulled away. “I like humans.”

  Another Alchemist lesson came to mind. They look like us, but don’t be deceived. The Moroi don’t display the malice of the Strigoi, but creatures who drink blood and manipulate nature have no place in our world. Work with them only as you must. We are not the same. Keep your distance as much as possible. It’s for the good of your soul.

  Adrian didn’t look like he believed this either, but he stepped away and headed outside. I followed a few moments later, thinking I’d played with fire more than once today.

  CHAPTER 14

  SUNDAY ROLLED AROUND, and the day started off quietly. We were nearing the point when Veronica might strike again, and my stomach was in knots over what her next step would be . . . and how stuck we were on how to stop her. Then I received help from an unexpected source when my phone rang with an unknown number on the display.

  Normally, I wouldn’t answer something like that, but my life was hardly normal these days. Besides, it was a Los Angeles area code.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi! Is this Taylor?”

  It took me a moment to remember my secret identity. I did not, however, recall giving my actual number to any of the girls we’d warned about Veronica.

  “Yes,” I said warily.

  “This is Alicia, from Old World Bed-and-Breakfast.”

  “Hi,” I said, still puzzled as to why and how she’d be calling me.

  Her voice was as cheery and bright as when we’d met her. “I wanted to know if you’d thought any more about getting a room for your anniversary.”

  “Oh, well . . . that. We’re still deciding. But, uh, probably we’re going to go with something closer to the coast. You know, romantic beach walks and all that.”

  “I can totally understand,” she said, though she sounded disappointed at the loss of a sale. “If you change your mind, just let me know. We’re running a special this month, so you could get the Bunny Suite at a really good price. I remember you saying it reminded you of your pet rabbit. What was his name?”

  “Hopper,” I said flatly.

  “Hopper! That’s right. Such a sweet name.”

  “Yeah, awesome.” I tried to think of a polite way to phrase my next question but simply chose directness. “Look, Alicia, how did you get this number?”

  “Oh, Jet gave it to me.”

  “He did?”

  “Yup.” She’d apparently gotten over her disappointment and now sounded bright and chirpy again. “He filled out an info card while you guys were here and put down your number.”

  I nearly groaned. Typical.

  “Good to know,” I said. I wondered how often Adrian gave my number out. “Thanks for following up.”

  “Happy to. Oh!” She giggled. “I nearly forgot. Your friend is back.”

  I froze. “What?”

  “Veronica. She checked back in yesterday.”

  My first reaction was excitement. My second one was panic. “Did you tell her we were asking about her?”

  “Oh, no. I remembered you saying you wanted to surprise her.”

  I nearly sank in relief. “Thank you. We, uh, wouldn’t to ruin that. We’ll have to stop by and visit—but don’t tell her.”

  “You can count on me!”

  We disconnected, and I stared at the phone. Veronica was back. Just when we thought we’d lost all leads on her. I immediately called Ms. Terwilliger but was sent to voice mail. I left a message and then followed up with a text, saying I had urgent news. My phone rang again, just as I was about to call Adrian. I almost hoped Alicia had mor
e to tell me, but then I saw that it was Stanton’s number. After first taking a deep breath, I tried to answer in as calm a way as possible.

  “Miss Sage,” she said. “I received your message yesterday.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you for calling me back.”

  I’d called her yesterday, just before meeting up with Adrian. Ms. Terwilliger’s magical training had taken priority at the time, but I hadn’t forgotten my deal with Marcus.

  “I have a, um, favor to ask,” I continued.

  Stanton, who was rarely surprised, was clearly surprised now. “You’re certainly entitled to ask . . . but you’re just not usually the type who does.”

  “I know, and I feel bad. So, if you have to say no, I understand.” In truth, if she said no, I would have a number of problems on my hands, but it was best not to sound too eager. “Well, I’ve been thinking about how I have to spend Christmas here—with the Moroi. And I definitely understand that, ma’am. It’s part of the mission, but . . . well, I’d be lying if I said that didn’t bother me. So, I was wondering if there’s any way at all I’d be allowed to go to one of the big holiday services. It would make me feel . . . oh, I don’t know. More connected. Purified, even. I’m just always surrounded by them here, by that taint, you know? I feel like I can’t even breathe half the time. That probably sounds ridiculous.”

  I cut my rambling off. When Marcus had first suggested taking advantage of knowing someone in St. Louis, I’d immediately thought of Ian. Then I realized that wasn’t enough. Alchemists on assignment couldn’t just ask for casual time off to visit friends. Time off for something more spiritual and group-oriented—say, the Alchemists’ annual holiday services—was a different matter. Lots of Alchemists were given clearance to travel and attend those services. They were tied to our faith and group unity. In fact, Ian had even brought it up at the wedding in the hopes of luring me to visit him. Little had he known his trick would pay off. Kind of.

  “It doesn’t sound that ridiculous,” Stanton said. That was promising, and I tried to unclench my fist and relax.

 

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