Mind Games

by Christine Amsden

  I didn’t have to raise my voice. “Perhaps God didn’t want me dead.”

  The pastor spluttered. “You’ve used magic to save yourself.”

  “Magic couldn’t save your wife when you sentenced her to burn.” I didn’t know if the pastor had started the fire or not, but I no longer cared. Whoever had struck the match, the dear pastor had, in fact, done the sentencing.

  Even the deputies went still. Everyone seemed to be holding their breaths.

  “She chose her own fate,” Pastor Roberts protested weakly. “She couldn’t banish the devil, so she purified her soul by sacrificing her body.”

  “And you helped her.”

  “Of course. I’m a man of God.”

  The crowd wasn’t silent anymore. Murmurs and gasps rippled through their ranks. When the deputies began herding the pastor toward the car, his former allies let them pass.

  Sheriff Adams came right up to me and held out his jacket, averting his eyes while I donned the oversized garment, which fell to mid-thigh on me.

  “That was a stupid thing to do,” he said.

  “Yeah.”

  He turned to look at me, a smile lighting up his face. “But amazing.”

  I smiled, broadly.

  Sheriff Adams lifted his eyes to something behind me. “I believe your boyfriends have come to fight over which one gets to save you.”

  Whirling, I saw Matthew Blair and Evan Blackwood approaching, staring daggers at one another. But they were too late. I didn’t need them.

  I didn’t need them. Either one of them.

  “Your hair,” Matthew said when he reached me, raising his hand as if to touch my scalp.

  I backed up. “Will grow back.”

  “Of course,” he said. “Let me take you home.”

  Evan opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. “I don’t need you.”

  Matthew grinned, but I wiped it off his face in the next moment. “I don’t need you, either.”

  Freedom. I felt, in that moment, the most incredible sense of freedom. I’d never felt so powerful or so capable in my entire life. I’d done this. No one else but me. I could have died, but I hadn’t, and now it felt as if I were waking from a dream.

  Exactly as if I were waking from a dream. I stared at Matthew for a long time, trying to decide when the dream had begun, but not quite able to place its origin. For a startling, melodramatic moment, I wanted to think that I’d been dreaming my entire life, but I knew that wasn’t true.

  “Cassie,” Matthew said, his voice silky, “you’re in shock. Let me help.”

  I shook my head and backed up a step. As I did, the engagement ring grew hot. Grasping it firmly with my other hand, I yanked at it, but it wouldn’t budge.

  Evan smiled. “That’s right, Cassie, fight it. You know it’s happening. Now fight it.”

  “Nothing is happening,” Matthew said. “She’s just in shock from nearly being burned alive.”

  Let go. Just let go. It would be so easy to slip back into the dream. Peaceful.

  Some people don’t mind letting others do their thinking for them, said a voice in the back of my mind. Are you one of those people?

  “No!” I answered my unspoken question out loud.

  “Cassie?” Matthew stepped forward, but I stepped back.

  Go with Matthew. He’ll protect you. He’ll take care of you.

  Warmth flooded my body, making me want to step closer to him, but I didn’t trust it. I needed to think. I needed to get away and think.

  Blanking my mind, grasping for my own quiet place, I ran away from the resort, all the while fighting against something that could destroy me more surely than fire.

  28

  BY THE TIME I ARRIVED HOME, there wasn’t a person in town who hadn’t heard what had happened at the church. Rumors flew wildly about what would happen to the parishioners who stood idly by, but it was clear that Pastor Roberts and those who had taken an active role in the attempted witch burning would be going to jail for a very long time.

  Madison and Kaitlin waited up for me in the living room, playing gin rummy and listening to news reports on the TV.

  “Oh no,” Madison said. “Your beautiful hair!”

  “It’ll grow back,” Kaitlin said. “Will you let your parents brew you a hair regrowth potion this time?”

  I hadn’t given it much thought, but I supposed I had grown beyond being too proud to accept magic. “Yes, I will.” Then I changed my mind. “No, I’ll brew it myself.” Or at least, I would brew as much as I could without magic.

  I didn’t linger in the living room. I’d managed not to feel too self-conscious about my near nudity up to that point, but with a room full of clothes mere feet away, I made a dash for decency.

  A mirror on the back of my closet door showed me my first glimpse of a bald head. For a long time I could do nothing but stare at the stranger looking back at me in the glass. There’s no describing how it feels to completely and suddenly lose all your hair. Yes, I took comfort in knowing that I could grow it back, but still… I took pride in my hair. Even short, it had been full, sleek, and vibrant – the envy of my friends. Madison had nicer breasts and Kaitlin had nicer legs, but I had the hair.

  Slowly, my hand trembling a bit, I let my fingers trace the smooth skin of my bare scalp. Then I shut the closet door so I couldn’t see it anymore.

  Kaitlin and Madison waited for me in the living room when I returned. Their card game lay forgotten as they looked at me expectantly, clearly hoping for details.

  I didn’t quite have the words to relay everything that had happened that night, at least, not everything that had happened in my mind. But one problem still remained. Frowning down at my hand, I once again tried in vain to twist the ring off my finger.

  “I can’t get it off,” I said. I suspected it contained a strong enchantment, possibly alerting Matthew if I was about to remember something inconvenient or break free of his control. But that didn’t explain why I couldn’t get it off.

  “Why do you want it off?” Kaitlin asked. Her face fell. “You’re not leaving Matthew, are you?”

  “He’s a mind mage,” Madison whispered. “He’s been controlling her.”

  “Is that true?” Kaitlin asked.

  “Yes.” My heart beat faster at the thought of leaving him, as if a part of me still held on to the idea that I loved him. Maybe I did. What was love, anyway? And did it matter how it started, as long as I continued to sustain it?

  “Why can’t you get the ring off?” Kaitlin asked.

  “I don’t know!” I threw up my hands in frustration, because even now that I knew Matthew had me under a spell, I still couldn’t seem to throw it off. The ring wasn’t stuck because it was too tight. It was stuck because I couldn’t bring myself to remove it.

  Just let yourself go.

  No.

  It would be so much easier. Matthew can protect you. He can keep you safe.

  No!

  I didn’t need protection. I’d proven it to myself that evening. I could take care of myself. That was the inconsistency in his web of control that had finally allowed me to see the truth. But truth could only go so far.

  “Madison,” I said suddenly. “Sing for me.”

  “What?”

  “Sing! Something strong. Something empowering. Just sing.”

  She hesitated. “I’m not strong enough to break his spell.”

  “I’m strong enough to break the spell,” I told her, only a little more firmly than I felt. “The song is just to help me focus.”

  Again, she hesitated, so I found the words for her. After a moment’s consideration, I started belting out the words to You Don’t Own Me.

  Madison only paused a moment before adding her voice to mine. Kaitlin joined us, too, and before long, the three of us were dancing around the living room.

  Madison’s voice came out stronger and clearer than the rest. Beautiful. Captivating. Her voice contained the hint of a country twang, something I ha
d always found sweet, especially when she sang rock songs.

  Tonight she didn’t sound sweet. She sounded determined. She helped me feel determined.

  Somewhere along the way, amidst my twisting and tugging, the ring popped off.

  “I’m free,” I whispered when the song ended.

  Just then, someone rang the bell. A sense of impending doom washed over me when, a few seconds later, I heard Matthew’s voice asking for me.

  I still felt drawn to it. So drawn to it that before I was even aware of doing so, I had opened the front door to welcome him inside.

  “I was worried when you ran off like that,” Matthew said, reaching out a hand to touch me. “Some of those people could still have tried to hurt you. They’re lost and confused right now.”

  I closed my eyes, compelled by him. I wanted so badly to just give in to him, but from somewhere deep inside, I found the voice of defiance. “Because they don’t have anyone to do their thinking for them?”

  “You don’t need me to think for you, Cassie.” Matthew put a comforting arm around me and whispered soothing words in my ear. “It’s not the same. I just help you feel good about yourself.”

  Is that what he did? Then why was he using his mind magic on me right now, when I felt wonderful about what I’d done? I wasn’t sure how I knew, but the calm flooding me wasn’t of my own making. I felt powerful, exhilarated, and independent, but certainly not calm.

  “Try to get Friday off work,” Matthew said. “I’ll take you on a special trip.”

  “Okay,” I agreed, though the agreement left me feeling unsettled.

  “I love you,” Matthew whispered softly.

  It should have been the right thing to say but somehow, it was precisely the wrong thing. It reminded me, forcibly, of Saturday night and of how Evan’s chastity spell was the only thing that had stood between us.

  He’d tried to rape me. There was no other word for it. And if I didn’t break free of his spell once and for all, he’d try it again.

  Matthew must have realized the effect his words had on me, because he instantly held me tighter and began whispering more frantically into my ear. These words weren’t soothing. They were the words of a spell.

  “No!” I pushed myself away.

  “It’s all right,” Matthew said, trying to draw me closer.

  “No!”

  This time, when Matthew tried to draw me closer, Kaitlin got between us. She shoved Matthew so hard with the force of her unborn baby’s gift that he flew against the door. “She said no!”

  He rubbed his temple.

  “You’d better leave,” Kaitlin said.

  I wanted to add my voice to hers, but with the “no” out of my system, I found myself shaking with unvented emotion. He’d been controlling me. Controlling me! Oh, he’d been far more subtle than Cormack McClellan, but perhaps that was why it had worked so well. He’d whispered suggestions to me and let my mind rationalize the rest.

  That’s what made him so good. Subtlety over strength. Fog over a few memories, create a sense of peace and calm, and then point the victim in the direction he chose.

  It might have worked, except that in the end, he’d done too much. He’d created an inconsistency. Been caught in a lie: That I was weak and needed his protection.

  The trouble was, Matthew wasn’t all subtlety. He had strength in abundance and he used it then, pinning all three of us with a single psychic command. “Stop!”

  Kaitlin froze. Madison, still seated on the sofa, gave a tiny squeak and went silent. I clutched my bald head in both my hands, straining against the worst migraine I’d ever had.

  “Cassie, come.” His voice rang out through the house, seeming to echo off the walls, hallowing out my brain until all that remained was the command.

  I went. I didn’t do a lot of thinking for a while, so I don’t remember anything until hours later, when I started to come to at Matthew’s parents’ home. Matthew and his father were arguing in the next room, their voices loud but muffled. Caroline Blair, Matthew’s mother, sat across from me on a beige leather armchair. She had a small smile on her face.

  “Matthew’s pretty pissed,” Caroline said. I didn’t think I’d ever heard the woman speak.

  “Then why are you smiling?”

  “Because it was time he learned that he can’t have everything he wants.”

  I wasn’t so sure he couldn’t, not when I still sat frozen on the sofa. “I can’t move.”

  She shrugged. “How long do you suppose he can keep that up? Brute force only works for short-term goals. Keeping it up for too long drains the sorcerer and causes brain damage to the victim.”

  My eyes widened.

  “Oh no, it hasn’t been long enough.” Caroline cocked her head in the direction of the raised voices. “I think my husband is trying to convince him to give it up, but he’s not taking it too well. He had this romantic notion about how this would all go.”

  “Romantic?” I squeaked. What on earth was romantic about mind control?

  “He grew up on stories of how James and I fell in love,” Caroline said fondly, a faraway look in her eyes. “He bought me from a slave trader and married me in Las Vegas.”

  So far, romantic wasn’t the word I would use to describe it.

  “Well, as I’m sure you know, they can drain my magic but not my gift. I’m still a strong empath. James knew that when he brought me home, so he tried to take charge right away. Show me who’s boss. He set a series of love spells in motion to make me fall for him.”

  I squirmed, wondering when on earth she was going to get to the romantic part.

  “I thought I’d show him. I resisted his love spells, but used my own gift to try to make him fall in love with me. We played that game for months, each of us trying to make the other fall in love while resisting the pull of the emotion ourselves.” She chuckled, fondly. “We both lost. Or won, depending upon how you look at it. We’ve been together for twenty-eight years.”

  “That’s…” I tried to think of a diplomatic word, but came up short and went with the truth, “…horrible!”

  Her eyes narrowed, sharply. “Is it? We made love out of nothing and remain devoted to one another to this day. Not everyone falls in love the same way.”

  “And that’s what Matthew wanted from me?”

  Caroline’s expression softened. “I think so.”

  I stood shakily, the effects of his last order still evident, though it was wearing off. “I’m out of here.”

  “All right, dear. I’ll drive you.”

  29

  THE NEXT FEW DAYS PASSED IN a bit of a blur. Sheriff Adams insisted that I take the rest of the week off and I agreed, spending much of the time gathering the ingredients for and brewing my mom’s hair regrowth potion. Like the other two potions I had brewed, it only required magic at certain specific points at the beginning and end, but it was a far more complex brew than the others, taking over a week to fully complete. In the meantime, my head remained shiny, a sort of testament to what I had done. Whenever I went out in public, people pointed and whispered. But nobody laughed.

  The district attorney charged Mark Roberts with one count of first degree murder and two counts of attempted murder. The men who had restrained Bethany and me were also charged with attempted murder.

  As for the other members of the congregation, they could all have been charged as accessories. Many demanded it, including my own family. But in an unprecedented deal, nobody else was charged, so long as they agreed to leave town within the month and never return. Whispers and rumors suggested that Alexander DuPris had arranged for that deal, so it was to him that I went on Friday to plead for a special exception.

  To my relief, when I knocked on the hotel room door this time, Alexander answered. “Hello, Cassie. Won’t you come in?”

  I did, taking a seat on the unattractive orange sofa while Alexander went to the mini bar. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t want t
o take up too much of your time.”

  He waved a dismissive hand. “I’ve been hoping to talk to you ever since I heard the dramatic story of what happened Wednesday night. You’re an interesting girl, Cassie. I’ve never run into anyone quite like you.”

  “I’m just another drained woman,” I said.

  He shook his head. “Hardly. So what’s next for you?” Alexander poured himself a mineral water and sat down opposite me.

  “Well, I don’t know for sure, but I have a few ideas.” I thought of Abigail’s offer of an apprenticeship.

  “Back to your normal detective agency?” Alexander’s lips quirked in amusement.

  I shook my head, ruefully. “That was a mistake. I was…” I tried to think of a way to sum up how I’d reacted to the realization that my parents hadn’t even thought I counted because of my lack of magic. “…confused about who I was.”

  “Who are you?” Alexander asked.

  I shrugged. “At least now I know that I don’t know the answer to that question. But I’m going to find out.”

  “Good start.”

  “I know a lot,” I added. “Even if I can’t channel magic. I’m going to use that knowledge.”

  Alexander sat up straighter. “You see, that’s what I’m trying to do here. A lot of people are resisting the idea exchange portion of my plan, but how can people protect themselves without knowledge? They can’t. They have to rely on others and then they get into these inescapable cycles of magical debt.”

  “What is your plan, exactly?” I realized I didn’t really know.

  His face brightened and he set down his mineral water. “Broadly speaking, I am looking to do three basic things. First, I want to establish a code of laws based on ethical principals, enforced by a magical police force and overseen by a judicial system. Without laws, there is chaos, and the weak prey on the strong, as I’m sure you know.”

  We exchanged a significant look, and I knew at that moment that we were both thinking about Evan. I wondered if Alexander intended to do anything about him, as my father had requested.