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All For Nothing

Page 3

by Laurie Treacy


  Chapter Two

  “The flashbacks are happening more frequently, aren’t they?” Remy asks as we walk down the front path of my house. He stops and reaches to adjust my hoodie, which is bunched up under my hair. When his fingertips graze the skin on my neck, I shiver.

  His dreamy eyes lock on my lips. “I miss you, Ames.”

  I nod. “Me, too. It’s all become work, work, work. Between school and magic practice, we don’t get to hang.”

  “I’ll go with you to see Dr. Rhodes if you need to see her. Talk things over. Okay? I’m here for you.” He leans down to kiss me, and I hook my arms around his neck, hungry for the connection.

  Our lips smash together.

  His hands sink inside the back pockets of my jeans, drawing me against his body. We become two people who haven’t seen each other in months. We kiss, not caring about passing cars, or passersby, not even if my parents are looking out.

  I don’t want to see any doctor. What I want are answers only Mom can provide.

  Finally, we pull apart to breathe.

  The November air chills our cheeks. Sidewalk lights turn on across the development. Lights from various Christmas window adornments blink on and off. Management doesn’t allow outdoor decorations.

  Remy glances upward, past my windows, to those of my old neighbors.

  With both Ozzie and Erich jailed, their condo has been seized and padlocked by the development owner. “Hey, I never apologized for not taking you seriously with your concerns about those two.”

  I shrug. “That’s okay. I’ve moved on. I’ve learned to trust my instincts.”

  Remy sidles up beside me, one arm wrappings around my waist below my army jacket. Things between us have changed—intensified—since the whole Ozzie setting me up so Erich could kidnap me scenario.

  He leans down to whisper into my ear. “I like this new, fiery Amy.” The tip of his tongue licks the bottom of my ear lobe, sending dozens of electrical sparks through me.

  “Fiery? Blame my new outlook on what’s going on. Sometimes it’s too much to handle.”

  “I know, Ames. I’m sorry for not telling you. Your mom forbade us.” Lacing his fingers with mine, he tugs me down the sidewalk in the direction of his house.

  This is our daily walk after lessons. He goes home, catches up on schoolwork, has dinner with his mom, and calls me before bed. On Saturdays, he makes deliveries for the local florist. My weekends are filled with more lessons, homework, and college planning.

  Nibbling my bottom lip, I glance over at him. “I was mad at you, but I can’t blame you for what my mother did. I’m still ticked with her and my aunt, though. It’s unfair.”

  “I know you’re mad. I hated not saying anything and making you think your aunt was weird. Your mom did some good. Many of us living here at Meadowbrook Estates belonged to five or six different covens.”

  A couple of kids skateboard past us. They wave and we nod.

  “We didn’t trust each other. We lived with the threat of the broker, and our people disappearing. Your mom started to bring us together, talked about creating one family. When Lacey from next door disappeared, the adults called an emergency meeting. They put your mom in charge. I think she was going to tell you, and then Ozzie moved in.”

  I knew what happened after that.

  We walk in silence down the rest of the street.

  “Being a witch or warlock isn’t easy, or sexy like on TV, or in the movies,” Remy says as we cross the main road.

  I groan. “Yeah, I’m finding that out. There’s nothing glamorous about being bitten by a gargoyle. I hate memorizing all this stuff. Rules and laws. Lists of plants and herbs. Know the sigils. Moon tides and harvest seasons…reciting historical facts, details like the alphabet. Practicing chanting and spellcasting. Why did my mom—why’d she think this would be easy for me? She forgot I had to study like crazy for the SATs, pick a college, and get ready for prom, too.”

  Remy groans. “Don’t mention prom. We haven’t really even gone out yet.”

  “You mean, like an official date?”

  He nods and some of his hair slips forward onto his face. I thread it back, enjoying any contact I can make with him. “This weekend is accounted for. We have the big Council meeting Saturday night, and we have my birthday brunch on Sunday. Maybe, we’ll squeeze a date in during winter break.”

  “How do you think the Council will vote? In favor of Roald, or your dad’s group?”

  “Roald wants to take over Erich’s condo, marry Rhea, and mentor the most talented students like some private tutor. Dad’s friends, the Lapsed Supers, are really homeless. They were rescued, but have no home, or family to go to. We know many families in the development are letting them stay in spare rooms and sleep on sofas until they get on their feet. I go with Dad’s bunch. They could really use a home, and Erich paid the mortgage off.”

  Remy smiles. “I agree. Roald has more opportunities than the others. He has money, even if it’s tied up with family overseas. The poor Supers have nothing.”

  More victims. Like my dad. Like me.

  “Yeah,” I say.

  We turn down a side road.

  “Remy, what’s a maverick? I haven’t seen, or heard that word in my studies.”

  He snickers, the fingers of his free hand glide across my newly colored tips. “I don’t suppose you will. It’s one of those unspoken terms, like mentioning Voldemort. I did some research over the weekend. A maverick’s a misfit, an oddball in the magical world.”

  I shiver against the cool wind.

  Remy pulls up the collar of my jacket.

  Even with a sweater, jeans, and lined jacket, the lessons drain me, leaving my energy depleted and my body weak for hours afterward. “I’m an oddball, huh? That’s fitting.”

  “No, your dad’s right, Ames. With your parentage, you should be an incredibly powerful witch. Witches who marry and procreate with warlocks of other elements aren’t usually successful at having babies together. Something about the elements crossing each other out. But, you thrived. You’re special, in a good way.”

  “Really? I’m not feeling like I am.”

  We cross another street, entering the section where Remy lives. He tugs me in the opposite direction, and up the little side road to the Community Center’s playground. It’s empty at five o’clock in the evening, and he leads me to a bench on the side of the building.

  He pulls me into his lap. “I get tired of talking and texting.”

  The heat from his body is comforting.

  “A maverick is the equivalent of a loser, someone no one wants to have on their team.”

  “Why?” I slip my arms inside his jacket and around his Henley shirt.

  He laughs when I playfully nip his neck. “Their powers are unreliable. They could be dangerous to others. I heard some mavericks have accidentally killed others in the past.”

  I stop nibbling. “Wow.”

  “Yep. Many covens ostracize them. Mavericks supposedly keep to themselves. The Council has begun binding their powers. The really bad ones are stripped of their powers all together, and jailed. Some go crazy and are kept in special places like asylums. Others fall into the cracks. It’s difficult for the Council to keep tabs on them.”

  There’s this sinking feeling inside me. I can’t cast simple spells. Could I be? I gasp at the idea. “They’re coven-less? Alone? It’s like they’re abandoned. Forgotten.”

  Remy stares down into my eyes, cupping my chin. “I read some go mad, or give up on magic. But your dad is right. That’s not you. That is not my Ames.”

  He hasn’t said he loves me, but I know he does. It’s in his eyes and in his touch.

  Before all of this happened, I would have easily said I loved him too, but I changed in that other realm. Tied in that chair, thinking I was going to die, then finding out about the secrets, and Remy’s role did something to me. I still care for Remy, I do. I just can’t call it love anymore.

  W
e survey each other before he kisses me again. If he senses my indifference, he doesn’t mention it.

  Being selfish, I allow myself to get lost in his scent, enjoy his touch, the feel of his mouth on mine. I make a mental note to look up mavericks for myself.

  Pulling away, Remy plants a small kiss on my cheek. “Ames, please listen to me.” He sits me down beside him and takes hold of my hands. “You’re still upset with me. I feel it.”

  Okay…

  “I will show you how sorry I am every day until you can forgive me. But, please—” His grip intensifies. “Please don’t do any snooping or searching online inside this development. The Council has eyes everywhere and their President, Raphael Torres, has a brother, Juan. He lives here, on my block. Juan’s also a Council member and a computer whiz. I heard there are special rooms in his condo and in the Meeting House basement where he keeps computers and drives, records of people’s emails, searches, everything. About everyone.”

  I blink a bunch of times, confused. “What? Why are—?”

  Remy yanks me to him in a fierce hug. “Just wait until we go to school. It’s safer. Your mother’s no longer in charge of our coven. The Council is announcing their appointed leader at the meeting. Things are changing, Ames.”

  My pulse rate jumps. Somewhere in his words is a hidden threat. Not from him, but from the Council. “I-I’m lost,” I mutter.

  He continues to hold me. “I use the computer at the florist. I also meet and talk to others. There are rumors that Erich belonged to an overseas organization, something bigger and scarier than what he did here. The Council is racing to strengthen its control on the magical community. There have even been mentions of war. Whether or not it’s true, I want you to be safe.”

  “You’re scaring me, Remy.”

  “I know. I don’t mean to. But, I have a feeling about this meeting.” Remy has the talent of forewarning, senses when something impactful is about to occur. “Please, promise me.”

  My voice is muffled by his hair against my mouth as I make my pledge. He hugs me once more and stands, hand outstretched to help me up. “And, I don’t want you walking me home anymore. It’s too dark. Okay?”

  I get up and dig my hands into my pockets. What a mood killer. “Sure.”

  Behind us, up on the highest hill, sits the Meeting House. Special events are held in its four party rooms open only to residents. It’s located at the very end of the development, way past any homes. Dad revealed the other day the developer, Cruz Delgado, is a distant cousin of my mom’s family. He placed the building there for privacy, the façade and parking lot blend in with its natural setting of trees and grass.

  More secrets kept from me. Did Mom enjoy keeping me clueless all of my life?

  With Remy’s declarations, the building takes on a more sinister look. I shake myself as we walk back to the side road.

  “I’ll call you later, okay?” Remy says. “You should go home now.”

  After a brief kiss, he heads up the road to his house.

  Dad’s reaction to Remy’s inquiry about mavericks sticks with me as I head back home for dinner. Mom should have arrived by now. I cross the main road deep in thought. As I walk, the hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise.

  I’m not alone.

 

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