She could fall asleep here if she wanted. It was so cozy. Logan didn’t look like he wanted to talk about Adam, but he stared down at Emma and sighed heavily.
“He’s a dark warlock, if you haven’t already guessed. And though my father trusts Preston, Adam’s father, I don’t like Adam. We’ve never really got along. Even when we were kids,” Logan explained.
“I understand,” Emma said. She quickly thought of Ethan. She didn’t know that Adam was dark and she didn’t like Ethan being with him one bit. She already didn’t like Adam from what he had done to Logan, and now her disliking of him grew immensely.
“Is there any way that I can get a message to Ethan? Maybe a note or something,” Emma got up from the ground and snatched a pen from the table. She wanted to tell Ethan to be careful and not to let Adam influence him. She wanted him to be safe and sound.
“Actually, you can but we’re trying not to use a lot of magic in the house right now. It could give us away-”
“I just want to tell him that he needs to hurry and get back. If I would have known that Adam was a freaking dark warlock, I would have went with him instead of Ethan. Ethan’s like a sponge, he soaks up everything and if it pisses people off, he’ll do it more. You don’t understand, Logan. I know my brother.”
“Fine, just let me make a quick phone call to Preston.” Logan hurried over to his father’s enclosed desk and whispered a spell into the glass.
A while later, Logan led Emma through a maze of older bookshelves that were hidden behind a secret door from within the library. The dust sent Emma into violent fits of sneezing and she cringed as she passed through a cluster of cobwebs.
Logan had told her that the room that they were heading to was a very old spell workroom that his father had placed into their new house by a friend. It had been in their family for generations.
He’d only been gone for a few hours, but Emma wanted Ethan back with her so badly that she felt like crying. Logan pressed his hand into a square piece of rock and a large stone wall slid open, the ground shaking beneath it.
Emma walked in first and noticed that the room was full of broken wooden crates and giant glass vases. Everything in the room looked battered, dusty, and destroyed, except for a tall stone table that sat in a far corner of the room.
On the table was a large clear glass bowl filled to the brim with purple water that brightened up the corner. Next to the bowl was a feathered pen and a stack of old parchment paper.
The room looked more like a dungeon than a spell workroom, Emma thought to herself as she walked up to the stone table.
“So what do I have to do?” Emma said, staring down into the bowl. The water seemed to be glowing, and Emma could feel the coolness rising from the bowl. It was as if she were standing outside in the snow.
“Write down whatever you want to say on a piece of paper and drop it into the bowl. But there’s one thing that I didn’t mention in the library,” Logan said. Emma turned, raising an eyebrow at him.
Was there blood involved? Because she was perfectly fine with a little pain in order to get this message to her brother.
“The way he’ll get the message will be painful for him. It’s going to appear on his forearm, written in his flesh. It’s how they used to do it back in the seventeenth century. It doesn’t involve a lot of magic, so that is why I think this is the best way.” Emma turned and stared back into the bowl. Ethan was going to be angry with her, but he’d forgive her for something as small as this, wouldn’t he?
“Okay, I’ll do it,” Emma decided.
Emma had written her message, carefully picking out words that were small and making sure it was as brief as possible. She didn’t want it to hurt that much for Ethan.
Logan took the note from her and folded it into a square. Making sure that it was tightly folded, he tossed the note into the bowl and Emma leaned over and watched as it fizzed and disintegrated into the water.
Emma smiled at Logan and an instant later felt sharp pain caress her entire spine. She slithered to the ground, unable to feel her arms and legs.
The room grew brighter and Emma’s eyes moved around the room as she lay on the ground. Logan sprang forward, but someone had thrown him into a wall. He landed with a thud on the ground but pushed himself to turn to the entrance of the room.
Two men and a hellhound were standing in the doorway of the spell workroom. Emma recognized the hellhound; it was the one who had come to warn them. She didn’t understand what was going on and she still couldn’t feel her arms or legs.
The pudgy man standing next to the hellhound stuck his split tongue out at Emma and hissed at her. He instantly grew closer, and Emma could see that his pupils were slit and were neon yellow.
His skin was a lighter shade of gray and he had scales on his cheek bones and ears. What the hell is he? Emma said to herself as he squatted down and began caressing Emma’s hair. She winced at his touch and wanted to scream.
“Hoke, stop scaring the poor girl, you sick fool,” the other man said in a thick British accent as he strode across the room and smacked the reptile of a man on the back of his grayish bald head.
Emma got a good look at the other man, his face illuminated by the small lantern he held in his hand. His short hair looked nearly blue, but his features were of a younger man, maybe a several years older than Emma. He had a square shaped face and his eyes were sunken in and black as night.
There was no pupil and the whites of his eyes no longer existed. His hair stood on end as if it was attempting to escape his pale scalp and his eyebrows looked thick and menacing.
He looked like a demon, Emma thought, as she tried moving her legs. There was no use, she could do nothing. What did these men want? And why were they hurting them?
“The boy is not here,” Hoke declared.
“We’ll take his son then, since Bennett didn’t want to cooperate. We’ll show him that we mean business.” The man swung one of his gloved hands through the air in front of him and Emma and Logan flew to the middle of the room, back to back.
“What the hell?” Emma snapped.
“Des lende modes moratu.” The man recited a spell and as soon as he had finished, a glowing gray rope appeared, wrapping itself around the two teenagers. “Don’t move. It will only hurt more.” Logan pushed himself into the rope and a shock vibrated through his body. He cried out in pain and Hoke laughed.
Emma didn’t dare move.
“Where’s my father?” Logan screamed.
“He’s in the kitchen, unconscious of course, and tied to a chair. But you are coming with us. I’m going to teach your sad excuse of a father a lesson. Now, where is Ethan?” the man walked around Logan and stood in front of Emma.
Her head was hung low and tears were streaming down her face. She just wanted this all to be over. “Where is he?” the man grabbed Emma by her chin and tilted her head back. She stared into his eyes and could see her own reflected in the darkness.
“You will never find him,” Emma growled.
“Oh, I’m not going to find him. I am going to use you to get to him, even if I have to sever a few limbs to get him to rescue his dear twin sister. Craven will bow to me when I bring you both to his lair. It will be glorious,” the man said into Emma’s ear. His breath smelt of mint and it forced goose bumps to ignite on Emma’s skin.
“Who are you?” Logan growled.
“Who am I? Young boy, you don’t remember me? I am Vander Hilt. I nearly killed you and your father years ago. I was so close to getting you but your father was too fast. But now, I can have the pleasure of bleeding you dry. Or maybe letting my good friend, Oden, the hellhound, clean the meat off of your bones.” The hellhound took a step forward, its sharp white teeth gleaming in the lantern’s light. “Not now, Oden. I have plans for these two.”
Vander stood up and walked over to Hoke. Emma cried, realizing that she was more than likely never going to see her brother again. She wouldn’t want him to find her; he needed to be safe.
Logan grabbed Emma’s hand, shocking them both. He held onto it tightly and told her that everything was going to be okay. She nodded but couldn’t bring herself to believe him.
8
Ethan awoke with a start. His eyes slid open and he flung himself forward. He leaned back, breathing hard and staring up at the ceiling. He was lying on a bed but he didn’t know where he was.
The sweet smell of strawberries flooded his nostrils as he began to calm down. He looked around and saw that he was in someone’s bedroom. The walls were light brown and only two posters garnished them. One was of a band called The Seven-Sixes and the other was of a candle made out of a skull. Ethan turned on his side and saw Adam making his way over to an opened closet.
Adam was shirtless and was going through the clothes. Ethan watched, unable to take his eyes off of him. The tattoos that covered his arms down to his elbows were entrancing, and after staring for a while longer, he noticed that they were trees, dead ones, wrapping themselves around his thick arms, the branches swirling about his muscles.
Ethan finally presumed that it was Adam’s room and was no longer as nervous as he was growing to be. Adam turned and spotted Ethan’s staring.
“Would you like it better if I kept my shirt off?” Adam teased. Embarrassed, Ethan turned onto this back and willed his eyes to the ceiling.
“How long have I been asleep?” Ethan asked.
“A few hours, my father said you needed to rejuvenate after that stunt you pulled.” Adam explained.
“Is this your room?” Ethan asked, trying to change the subject. Adam snickered and pulled a burgundy t-shirt over his torso.
He walked back over to the bed and lied down next to Ethan. Ethan’s body grew tense. He hadn’t been in bed with a boy in a long time. Technically, he wasn’t in bed with Adam, they were just lying next to one another.
Tiny stars erupted on the ceiling, turning the brown paint into a night time sky. Ethan turned to Adam and smiled.
“Yes, this is my room. I had to carry you here because you used too much dark power; you almost gave in to your dark blood. Just a little longer and you would have evolved. You’d be a dark warlock right now.”
“I didn’t know what was happening because the only time I’d ever seen the sky do that was on my birthday but when I brought you home, my dad explained it all to me, and how it is severely rare. Are you feeling okay? Are you feeling different?” Adam looked greatly concerned, his forehead scrunched in the middle.
Ethan could see that Adam was concerned for him; even after only knowing each other for a single day, something was pulling them together.
“I feel the same, nothing has change-” Ethan’s eyes grew wide as a brutal pain began clawing at his right arm. He screamed in agony and Adam yelled for his father.
A hulking, dark haired man hurried into the room and over to Ethan’s side. He’d never felt so much pain in his life. Sweat broke out across his forehead as he looked down at his arm. Letters began surfacing, coming through his skin, red and bloody.
Soon the letters were bubbling and almost instantly, the pain came to a grand halt. Ethan was breathing hard and crying. His breathing finally returned to normal and he stared at Adam’s father.
“What was that?” Ethan asked.
“It was a Samaris.” Adam’s father grabbed Ethan by his arm, showing him the words that appeared to be engraved into his inner forearm. Ethan saw the words and swallowed hard. “It is old magic and they used to do it a very long time ago. It was an easy and safe way to get a message to another witch without getting caught. It doesn’t last long; it should disappear within an hour.” Adam’s father ran his hand along the words but Ethan didn’t wince.
Adam resembled his father almost entirely except for his age and his black and gray hair. They were both tall, had plenty of muscle, and had piercing blue eyes. His father also had a long scar, the shape of a crescent moon near the top of his left eye.
“Emma,” Ethan said and sat up, rubbing the tears from his eyes. He looked down at his arm and silently read the words to himself.
Ethan, be careful and hurry back to the house. I know you have used a lot dark magic and you can’t do that again. Don’t let Adam influence you, you can’t leave me alone to deal with all of this. I need you. Find Oleandra and get back to Logan’s house before something else happens.
I love you.
Emma
Out of the corner of his eye, Ethan saw that Adam was reading it too and he turned his arm over. He didn’t deserve to see that. After everything he has done for me, Ethan said to himself and pulled the sleeve of his sweater down over the message from his sister.
He loved Emma, that would never change, but she didn’t know Adam. He would find Oleandra, get back home, and keep Adam around for as long as he wanted him. He hated being told what to do, especially by his sister.
Adam’s father stood up and cleared his throat, getting Ethan’s attention.
“We need to talk, Ethan. But we’ll do that after you eat. I made some strawberry oatmeal; it’s on the table cooling off. I’ll see you both at the table in five minutes.” Adam’s father walked away from the bed and went to the door.
“Don’t you want to know what it says?” Ethan asked.
“It’s none of my business. But if you decide to tell me, I will listen.” He left the room in a hurry, leaving the two boys alone. Adam turned, silently, and got off of the bed. Ethan saw the look on his face, a depressing look.
“I’m sorry you saw that,” Ethan said.
“She doesn’t even know me, but she’s already made her choice because of Logan. He’s probably already filled her head with nonsense and how much he despises me. But listen to this, Ethan: I will keep you safe; I will help you no matter what. You may not know me well, but you can trust me.” There was pain in Adam’s eyes and Ethan wanted so badly to ease it.
“I believe you. And I trust you, Adam. I’m not very easy on trusting people, in fact, for a long time I didn’t even trust Mason. So don’t think for one second that I am going to listen to my dumb ass sister. I do what I want.” Ethan rushed off of the bed and walked up to Adam.
He stared up into his eyes for a long moment and then, without warning he leaned upward and kissed Adam on his cheek. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me so far.” Adam’s expression changed and Ethan could tell that he wanted to smile.
Ethan was watching Adam and his father bicker over how they should travel in order not be seen when they headed to Oleandra’s. It was true that she did live in the woods, but she and her house were hidden and there was only two ways of uncloaking a witch’s whereabouts.
After everything they had discussed, Adam argued that his friend, Sage, would be able to help them. But his father was set on them using a goblin’s sight to find the house. Ethan listened to them and agreed that a goblin’s sight would help. Ethan recalled that goblins could see past cloaking.
“We are done here for now. I need to speak to Ethan alone.” Preston grew suddenly stern and without looking at Ethan, Adam got up out of his chair and left the dining area.
Ethan looked down into his empty bowl and wished for more oatmeal. For some reason, he was still hungry and Adam’s father knew how to cook extremely well. Mason could never get the hang of cooking. They always ordered delivery.
Preston cleared his throat loudly, startling Ethan. He looked into the man’s eyes and saw them change colors. A light green fog appeared from behind Preston and formed around them like a bubble, enclosing the two at the table.
“What is that?” Ethan asked, a little nervous.
“I don’t want Adam to hear what I’m about to say. I’m shielding us,” Preston said as he placed both of his hands on the table and folded them.
“What’s wrong?” Ethan corrected his posture and felt his throat going dry. What was so important Adam couldn’t be present or at least hear?
“I got a phone call from Logan. He asked me to help you in balancin
g your magic. But I am not going to do that. It’s not my place to force you stop using dark magic, because I am a dark warlock. There is a big misconception about dark bloods. We are not all entirely evil, we can still love, hurt, and die. And I feel that it’s not my place to prevent your dark magic from evolving.”
“I am a part of the dark society, which is a league of dark witches and warlocks who devote much of their time and power to help prevent problems with our kind and strip powers from unworthy witches. Before that, we were awful people. We belonged to your father. I was around when your father lost his marbles. But let me tell you this. No matter what anyone says about your father, he loved you and your sister more than anything. My Goodness, he loved you.” Preston hung his head low for a moment and Ethan could see that he was crying.
Wicked (The Drake Chronicles Book 1) Page 7
