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Avenge (Malice Book 2)

Page 4

by Amity Hope


  When I reached the front door I quickly flipped the locks. Mom had added a charm for added protection. It would alert her to strangers attempting to get in. As far as I knew, it would not alert her to me attempting to get out.

  I pulled the door open and was met with a cool, crisp breeze.

  My bare feet tapped against the wooden steps that led from the porch. Finola hurried from the back side of the house. Usually so calm, I could tell that her body was vibrating with excitement.

  “Sam!” she cried in a loud whisper. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come down!”

  She closed the distance between us.

  “What’s going on?” I asked.

  My eyes darted across the yard. Chills clawed their way up my spine as I looked into the tree line. I grabbed my friend’s arm and tugged her toward the house. She didn’t resist.

  “He did it!” she said excitedly.

  “Who did what?” I asked as I pulled her up the steps.

  She stopped before I could open the door and nudge her inside of the house.

  “Alex!” she said excitedly. “He’s been so worried. He was afraid that a Strigan spirit would be too strong. That it would resist. But he didn’t resist!”

  “What do you mean he didn’t resist?” I demanded. My blood felt like ice as it pumped through my body. My arms broke out in chill bumps, a result of my nervous anticipation. I stared at her waiting for an answer. She couldn’t possibly be saying what I thought she was, could she?

  “Tristan! Alex was able to call him! He didn’t want you to know he was going to try. He knew you would want to be there. He was afraid that it would be too much pressure. Jude was one thing. He’s been in spirit form longer. And his spirit is Lamia, like Alex’s. You know when he’s tried calling Tristan before, nothing has happened. After we realized Tristan’s band might be the problem, Alex went to Cecily. I know you talked to her as well, but Alex asked her to let him know as soon as she found something she thought Tristan was exceptionally attached to. She found something.” Fin gripped my arm in one hand. I realized then what I hadn’t noticed before in the darkness. She held a glass sphere closely to her chest. “It worked.”

  I couldn’t peel my eyes away.

  Finola’s hand fell from its grip on me. Slowly, she held the sphere toward me. An iridescent light glowed from within.

  “Tristan?” My voice came out as a whisper.

  She nodded. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you. But we thought it was better this way. That way Alex could devote his full attention to what he was doing.”

  I reached up and my fingers swept across the glass.

  The realization that one huge obstacle was behind us was almost too much to grasp. The fact that it had happened so quickly, and without me, was even harder to grasp.

  “Sam? Say something?”

  I cleared my throat and my hand fell to my side. “I can’t believe it’s really him.”

  She lifted the sphere to me once again. This time I reached for it with trembling hands. The glass felt cold to my touch. The light from within glowed softly, languidly, as it slowly moved around its confines. I clutched it carefully to my chest, afraid I would drop it. I closed my eyes and let myself absorb the moment.

  “Was Alex able to talk to him? Did Tristan say anything?” I finally managed to ask.

  “No. Catching his spirit didn’t go as smoothly as catching Jude’s. Alex kind of assumed it wouldn’t. That’s why he wanted to be able to give it his full concentration,” Finola explained. She patted her coat pocket and then reached inside. “Here, you should take this.”

  She held out her hand and I carefully reached for the folded paper she was handing me.

  “What is this?” I asked.

  “It’s a Valentine’s Day card you gave Tristan when the two of you were kids. He’d kept it all these years. When Cecily was looking for something he held close to his heart, she thought that would be it.” Finola paused before saying, “She was right.”

  She placed the folded, aged card in my hand. I recognized it immediately. It was a homemade card, made of construction paper. I’d cut out hearts and plastered them all over the front of the card. Specks of pink glitter flaked off, sticking to my hand.

  “I can’t believe he still has this,” I said with a nostalgic smile. “This is from the third, maybe fourth grade.” It was from a time when I’d loved him as a friend, but I’d loved him all the same.

  “Don’t ever doubt how much Tristan cares about you, Sam,” Finola said quietly.

  I clutched the card in my hand. Out of all of Tristan’s belongings, it was hard to believe that this—an old, worn, folded piece of paper from me—had the strength to call his spirit home.

  ~*~*~

  Sleep didn’t come easily the rest of the night. That was okay. I felt wide-awake, wired, really. I’d dozed for a bit, and then awakened with a jolt. The first thing to come into view when I opened my eyes was the charmed jar that Finola had brought to me the night before.

  In daylight, Tristan’s soul looked like a silvery mist swirling in the confines of the glass. There were threads of crimson—the shade of Strigan magic—woven through but there were other colors too.

  “Hey, so, hi,” I told him. I ran my fingers across the rounded edges of the container. “So I don’t know if you can understand me, or if you can even hear me, but I just want you to know, we haven’t forgotten about you. Alex is going to help both you and Jude. Now that we’ve got you here,” I gently tapped the sides of the globe, “we’re one step closer.”

  I didn’t have to point out what an important step it was. Now that his spirit was contained, we didn’t have to worry about it disbanding, disintegrating, and becoming a wraith. None of us were positive how long a spirit could withstand the confinements of the charmed globe, but we were banking on it being a much better alternative to letting it float around out in the world.

  “They haven’t caught Levi, yet,” I informed him. “But they’re working on it.” I sighed. “You do realize we have a lot to talk about when we get you out of there. Heir to the House of Negrescu? Really, Tristan? Yeah, Cecily told me. That’s a pretty big deal.” I had known this for days now but it didn’t make it any easier to grasp. “What does that mean, exactly? Do you even know? If you’re the heir…does that mean you’re royalty? Like a prince? A prince of darkness? ’Cause honestly, Tristan? I can’t even imagine. I mean, I wouldn’t even believe you were Striga if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. I bet you are not at all what your dad was hoping for. No offense,” I quickly added. “I just mean that…well, you know. You’re the kindest, most caring person I’ve ever met.”

  I’d only recently found out that Tristan’s father was not only Striga, but that he was Hans Jaeger, a direct descendant of Heinrich Jaeger, the creator of the Strigan bloodline. Centuries ago he’d decided to mess with black magic. The result was the Strigan line. Their magic was stronger, but they’re ability to have children—their ability to pass that dark magic on—was significantly weaker. It was how nature had managed to keep the evil in check.

  Hans Jaeger had found a way around that unfortunate glitch in Strigan physiology. He’d wooed Tristan’s mother, a Lamia, leading her to believe he was human. They’d married, she’d become pregnant with Tristan. But when she realized she’d been deceived, when she realized who and what Tristan’s father was, she’d left him. She’d been afraid for herself and her unborn child.

  Cecily was a family friend, a friend of Tristan’s true grandmother. When his mother, Elyse, begged Cecily to take Tristan, to pretend that he was her grandson, Cecily hadn’t been able to refuse.

  Cecily was sure that Tristan’s father had not given up looking for him. Elyse had left Hans before Tristan was born, and because of that, Hans didn’t know if he was looking for a son or a daughter. Fortunately for Tristan, that likely complicated the search.

  Tristan’s mother had worried about him, worried about the dark magic he possessed through his bir
thright. Tristan had grown up with a distaste for all magic because of it. That didn’t mean that he wasn’t capable of tapping into it. When our lives were in jeopardy, he rescued us not just once, but twice.

  “You’re kind of my hero. I really owe you,” I said quietly. “I just want to pay you back. Then I want to sit you down for a nice, long chat. There are so many things I want to ask you. I can’t believe you’ve been keeping all these secrets, bottled up inside for years. I wish you would’ve trusted me enough to tell me. I hope you trust me now.”

  I couldn’t imagine how hard that had been for him. Hiding who he really was. Keeping his magic tamped down with the charmed wristband his mother had insisted he wear. Living a lie because it was too dangerous for anyone to know who he really was. My heart ached for him.

  “You know,” I said, “I’m just going to put this out there. I’m kind of mad at you. I’m mad that you kept this from me. Cecily said it was for my own good. That I could be in danger if anyone knew. And yeah, okay, that might be true. But Tristan…you’ve got to know, I’d never tell. So in case you can hear me, if you’re worried about me telling Fin and Daph, don’t be. You’re secret…it’s safe with me.”

  “Sam…?” Mom knocked on my door as she opened it. “You’re going to be late for…school.” Her words faded off when she spotted me, kneeling down in front of my nightstand, chatting with the spirit trapped in glass.

  I realized how ridiculous I must look. I slowly got to my feet.

  In our world, weird and strange were often the norm, but this…yeah, this was maybe off the charts odd.

  “Is that…?” She furrowed her brows, seemingly unwilling to hazard a guess.

  “It’s Tristan,” I said in relief.

  She moved in closer to get a better look. “How…? I mean, when…when did this happen?”

  “Last night. Late. Alex and Finola performed the spell in the cemetery. They didn’t want me to know. Too much pressure on Alex, I guess. Fin said it was tricky, but…” I motioned to my nightstand. “It worked.”

  “Late last night?”

  Of course, she would be hung up on that.

  “Fin stopped by.”

  “I didn’t hear her. The wards…?”

  “She didn’t come in. I went out—”

  Mom frowned.

  “I was fast. And I was careful. Alex was with her, waiting in the car. It’s fine, Mom. We’re all safe.”

  “This time,” Mom said. “You were safe this time. No more creeping out of the house at night. If I find you doing that again, you’ll be joining Magnolia and me at your aunt’s.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Does Cecily know?”

  “I don’t think so. Like I said, it was late. Maybe I should stay home today. I can let Cecily know…” Really, I just didn’t want to leave Tristan.

  Mom shook her head. “You can’t miss school. I’ll keep an eye on…him. You get ready. I’ll go give Cecily a call. Unless you want to?”

  “No, go ahead.”

  “I’ll do that right away.”

  She let herself out of my room. I hurried to my closet. She was right. I was going to be late. I pulled out a black tee shirt and a pair of faded jeans. I plucked the afghan off the end of the bed and draped it over the globe. I wasn’t sure what—if anything—Tristan was aware of in there. But I opted for some discretion all the same. I hurriedly dressed, grabbed my backpack, grabbed Tristan and headed for the stairs.

  “Just cereal for breakfast today,” Mom said as she hung up the phone.

  “Was that Cecily?” I placed Tristan on the counter and walked over to the cupboard to get a bowl.

  “It was. She’s coming over shortly,” she said as she handed me a box of granola.

  “Mommy?” Magnolia said as she wandered into the kitchen. “Can we have crepes for breakfast?”

  “No, sweetie, just cereal today.” Now that we didn’t have guests, Mom had stopped making fancy breakfasts.

  “We have cereal all the time,” Magnolia pouted. “Hey!”

  I turned at the excitement in her voice.

  “What’s this?” she asked at the same moment I said, “Don’t touch that!”

  She picked the globe off of the counter. It was heavier than she expected. It slipped through her fingers and tumbled to the floor. A shriek flew out of my mouth as the globe clattered against the tile and rolled.

  “Magnolia!”

  I dropped the cereal box on the counter and darted to where it had stopped rolling. Mom beat me to it. She carefully picked it up. My heart was hammering in my chest. My fingers burned with a rush of adrenaline.

  “Sorry,” she grumped, unaware that this could’ve been a catastrophe of epic proportions.

  Mom inspected the glass. “I think it’s okay. It’s not even cracked. Whoever charmed this did an excellent job.”

  “It was me,” I said breathlessly. I knew the bespelled glass was supposed to be uncharacteristically strong, but I’d never actually tested it out before. I sure as heck would’ve never tested it out with something as important as Tristan’s spirit inside.

  If it had escaped, if it had floated away, we’d be back to square one.

  “There’s a crack in the tile, though,” Mom said with a small smile.

  “I said I was sorry,” Magnolia whimpered.

  “It’s alright, Magnolia. I know it was an accident. Just try to be more careful. And don’t go helping yourself to things that aren’t yours.” Mom knelt down and fixed the crack in the tile with her magic.

  “Maybe I should stay home,” I said as I took the globe from my mother. “I think I should keep an eye on things.” I hugged it to my chest.

  Mom gave Magnolia a disapproving look. “Magnolia, you know better than to touch things that aren’t yours.”

  “I just wanted to look at it,” she pouted. “What is it?”

  “It’s something that is very important to your sister, to all of us, actually,” Mom explained. “And that is all you need to know.”

  Chapter 5

  “I wasn’t so sure you’d show up today,” Finola said as I rushed up to my locker.

  “Mom really didn’t give me a choice,” I told her. I’d argued, but had finally given up when Cecily arrived. She assured me that she planned on spending the day with Mom and Magnolia while they packed. She’d keep an eye on the globe and make sure there were no more mishaps.

  “Finola told me the news!” Daphne whisper-yelled as she joined our group.

  I glanced around, needing to be sure no one had overheard. There were very few people aware of what had really gone down in our town recently. Bree had yet to return to school. She was still at home recuperating.

  As far as Jude went, everyone still seemed to be under the impression that he was still a teenage runaway.

  And Tristan? Sadly, I didn’t think anyone but Julie Donovan missed him. When I’d found her lingering near his locker the other day, I’d told her he had mono. That was the excuse Cecily had called the school with. She didn’t want to draw any more attention to Tristan than necessary, especially now that he was in the hands of a Striga. It would be all too easy for Levi, and whoever he was working for, to do some research and possibly dig up who Tristan really was.

  The mono excuse would buy us a few weeks, maybe longer. It was actually Councilwoman Lebeau that had come up with this excuse. She didn’t want residents of her fair city to panic. And of course, if it was found out that a group of teenagers had been stripped of their spirits so that their bodies could be possessed by Strigans, there would indeed be panic.

  “Shhh,” I shushed Daphne with a finger over my mouth.

  “That’s amazing news, Sam!” Daphne ratcheted her volume down just a bit.

  A smile crept onto my face. “I know. It’s such a relief.” I glanced around. “Hey, where’s Alex? I really need to thank him.”

  Finola frowned. “He was called in to see Lebeau again. I don’t like that she’s keeping such a close eye on him.


  “Why did she call him in? Is this about last night?” I asked.

  “Maybe and that’s what bothers me. Alex didn’t tell her what we planned on doing last night. He didn’t want anyone to know. Like I said, he didn’t want the pressure. So if she is aware, it’s not because he told her,” Finola explained.

  “Do you think she’s having him watched?” Daphne asked.

  “Who is being watched?” Riley asked as she edged her way into our tight little circle.

  “Hey, Riley,” Finola said.

  “Good morning,” she replied. “What’s going on?”

  Daphne, Finola and I shared a look. It was a silent question, asking each other how much we should tell her.

  “Okaaaay, then,” Riley said. She started to back away.

  I reached out, grabbed her by the elbow and reeled her back in. I updated her, letting her know we now had Tristan’s spirit. Finola filled her in on Alex.

  “They’re watching him?” Riley asked in disgust. Finola shrugged but it was obvious that she thought that was the case. “Do you know what that boy needs? What we all need? A cloaking spell,” she answered for us.

  “That’s actually an excellent idea,” Daphne agreed.

  “Hey, ladies,” Alex said as he nudged his way into our group.

  We all stood back to let him into the tight little circle we’d formed. I glanced around the hallway. No one was paying any attention to us. They were all wrapped up in their own morning rituals. It was kind of a relief that high school students were so self-absorbed and predictable.

  The warning bell blared all around us.

  Finola ignored it. “Alex, what did they want with you this morning?”

  He glanced around. “I don’t want to get into it here. I’ll just say that The Councilwoman very firmly requested that I—that we, actually—leave the case alone. She made it pretty clear that this is Council business, not ours.”

  “Our friends are involved, that makes it our business,” I said.

  “I agree,” Alex told me. “I think we need to discuss this later. When we have more time. Can we meet at The Rush after school?”

 

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