by Blake, Kasi
He lowered his face.
But he made a final decision to let her control the kiss.
His heartbeat quickened as his mind went on a crazy trip. What sort of kiss did she want to give him? How long would it last? Would she regret it afterwards?
Her closed mouth pressed against his for several seconds, long enough for him to compare the kiss to ones already received. Unlike the other girls he’d locked lips with, she took it slow. She didn’t seem to be in a hurry to reach some unknown destination that would leave him in the dust. Her lips, full and soft, opened after a moment, startling him.
The tip of her tongue briefly touched his in a shocking move that left him rattled.
Then it was over.
Although he’d been kissed many times, possibly hundreds, this was the one he’d remember into his old age. It was twisted, forbidden yet needful, hard yet soft, sweet yet passionate.
She took a step back and stared into his eyes as if daring him to comment. A strange glint appeared in hers, shards of simmering anger.
Her hand slid down his bare chest to the talisman. She wrapped the chain around her fingers as her narrowed gaze dared him to stop her. A hard tug caught him off guard. The chain broke against the back of his neck. He’d worn it day and night since he’d been abandoned by his father, never taking it off.
And now it was gone, just like that, and so was she.
She went inside and closed the sliding terrace door. For a moment, they gazed at each other through the glass. She probably thought he was staring at her with a stunned expression like a deer caught in headlights. She probably thought he was upset over her taking his necklace... but he had other problems.
The second the chain snapped, he remembered something better off forgotten.
Inside, Dani whipped around and disappeared into her dark house, no idea what she’d done to him.
His knees wobbled, and he sank onto the cold stone terrace floor as an intense memory forced him back in time. A chair would have been nice, but he didn’t think about that until he fell the last few inches.
Sitting on the ground, he stared at the exterior of the Foster home without seeing it. The chilled ground felt damp beneath him. He shivered. His vision clouded over with an image long ago erased.
Somehow the talisman had kept him from remembering the last time he’d seen his father.
Now it returned with brutal clarity.
♫
He and his father stood in a dark foyer in New Orleans, a cramped room with an overloaded coat rack on one side and a cluttered armoire on the other. Strange sounds came from the parlor as the gypsy woman moved about like an elephant in a closet. She chanted foreign words in a husky voice, repeating some over and over.
Eleven-year-old Trick put on a brave face, squared his shoulders, and reminded himself that his father wouldn’t let anyone hurt him. But he jumped to the side, startled when the gypsy woman appeared just over his shoulder.
She was a scary sight: black lipstick hiding yellow teeth, bottomless eyes surrounded by smeared charcoal, and she wore a living snake around her neck like a scarf.
From time spent watching public television, he knew it was a boa constrictor. That meant they didn’t bite, right? They just squeezed the life out of a person. The snake flicked its tongue in Trick’s direction, and he swallowed hard. Why would anyone want a reptile wrapped around their throat?
His father had warned him she was from Jamaica with a Scottish father and mixed the two languages. He’d told Trick not to say anything rude about her accent.
Trick barely noticed that she ‘talked funny.’ Why hadn’t his father mentioned the snake? That was something you didn’t see every day.
Maybe it was new.
She hunched down in front of Trick and dangled a long golden chain in front of his face. At the end was a bulky piece of metal that reminded Trick of a watch he’d seen a man pull out of his pocket once. But this thing didn’t have numbers or hands to tell the time. Instead, there were weird symbols.
The gypsy woman spun the watch-thing in front of his face. “Humph,” she grunted.
His father looked concerned.
She tapped the center of Trick’s forehead with a strange stick that reminded him of Harry Potter’s wand. Then she grabbed both sides of his face, pinching his cheeks and peering into his eyes. Hers were black, solid black, and Trick bit the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out in fear. He was forced to stare into those bottomless pits for far too long. Just as he reached the end of his courage and started to push her away, she released him.
A mess of reddish curls slapped him in the face as she jerked around to look at his father. “It’s as you feared. The wee lad was double-blessed wid da magic.”
His father stiffened. “Are you saying it’s a good thing?”
“Nuh at all, Mr. Carver. Dis is da Devil’s work, and dat is never a good dang.” She caressed Trick’s face with a callused hand. The touch was gentle, almost loving; the expression on her face was not. “Your fada was right about you. Unless they are leashed, your powers will grow until dey kill you dead.”
“That’s enough, Adeline. Just do your thing, and get rid of it.”
“Get rid of—” She laughed, a soft cackle. “No, no, no. You cannot get rid of a power dat strong. All you can do is quiet it for a time.”
“Do it then. Do whatever you can. If he doesn’t use the magic, his power will weaken like mine did.”
She shrugged thin, bare shoulders and made a sour face. “Save your money. Magic like dis was not meant for dis world. Let it grow. It will end itself soon enough.”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Dat much magic is too much for a mortal body to hold. It will kill the wee lad.” When his father began to object, she brushed it off with a wave of her hand. “Better him dan da rest of us, isn’t dat right?”
His father’s lips pressed together in a grim line, and he took a step forward with clenched fists. Trick had seen the expression before. His father could intimidate with a single look.
The gypsy wasn’t immune. She took two steps back and reassessed the situation. Flashing her dirty teeth at the terrifying hunter, she said, “All right den. Let’s get on wit it.”
“Will this help?” His father pulled out the strange talisman that he carried for luck.
Her eyes widened until they nearly swallowed her face. “Aye, it will.”
She plucked the charm from his hand with greedy fingers. Walking to the nearest lamp, she held the twisted charm beneath the light and admired it. For a moment, Trick thought she might keep it for herself. She obviously wanted it.
His father cleared his throat.
She jumped as if remembering he was too dangerous to steal from. She said, “I would ask how you got your hands on dis faerie metal, but I know you would not tell me. I will enchant it, and it will deplete his power. I’ll add a memory spell so he won’t remember any of dis.”
“How much can you make him forget?”
“Dis entire day along wid every instance he used his magic or saw you use yours. When I finish wid da boy, he won’t know magic exists.”
His father shifted from foot to foot. “Over the phone you told me you can look into the future. Can you do it now? Put my mind at ease?”
Her gaze lowered. “I already took a peek at da boy’s future before you arrived. What I saw won’t ease your mind none.”
“Meaning?”
“Was murky.”
His father growled. “Make sense, witch, before I lose my patience.”
“I only caught a glimpse, and it was hard to see. Felt like some-den powerful was blockin’ me.” She shrugged. “Saw enough.”
“Tell me.”
The gypsy nodded at Trick. “I saw him wid da Dark Wizard’s power.”
“You mean you saw him with power comparable to what my father has?”
“No. I saw him wid your fada’s power. Seen it glowing in
him like a volcano about to erupt.”
His father shook his head. “That isn’t possible. The Dark Wizard can’t possess Trick. He’s my third son, not the first.”
“Only know what I saw. Say your goodbye now while I finish the enchantment.”
“Goodbye?”
“In order for the spell to work and da lad to be safe, you have to leave him. Let a nice, normal couple raise him. Only den will da magic die... as long as da talisman stays around his neck.”
The blood drained from his father’s face. “But, I already lost two children. I can’t—”
“You can if you want da wee lad to live. Already called in a favor. My friends will place him wid a nice family after dey make some fake papers for him.”
Trick’s blood turned to ice as he realized what the gypsy was suggesting. She wanted his father to leave him there with her, walk away forever.
Panic set in, and Trick’s chest expanded as he fought to breathe. Suddenly, air seemed hard to come by. His father couldn’t leave him. He was only safe as long as his father was with him. If his father disappeared, who would protect him from werewolves?
The gypsy hurried to the parlor and began to chant again as she worked her voodoo or whatever it was she was doing. Trick didn’t understand any of it. He started plying his father with questions, but his father wasn’t in the answering mood.
His father hunched down until he and Trick were close to the same eye-level. “I’m only going to tell you this because you won’t remember any of it after Adeline is done.” He cleared his throat before further explanation. “My father... your grandfather is the Dark Wizard. If I knew before I had children what I know now, you never would have been born.”
Trick gaped at his father in shock. He’d heard stories of the Dark Wizard, most of them whispered by hunters when they hadn’t known he was listening. The wizard was invincible with terrible powers that he used on a frequent basis to kill. Even vampires and werewolves were afraid of him. If they were related to that kind of dark magic...
“Is that why I can make a door appear when I’m scared?”
His father nodded. “Escape Magic, yes, and it is so rare that only a handful of faeries can do it. A faerie killed your grandfather, your real grandfather, and possessed his body when I was your age. If that faerie finds out about you, about what you can do already, he’ll come for you. I won’t be able to stop him.”
The gypsy hurried back into the foyer and returned his father’s talisman.
A tremor shook Trick’s narrow frame. “What is she gonna do to me?”
The gypsy grinned, a nasty grin that promised a wicked end for him, but she went back to the parlor without a word.
His father held up the bronze talisman on a thick silver chain. “I’m going to put this around your neck after Adeline finishes her chant and—”
“Can’t we just leave?”
“I’m sorry, Patrick, but we have to do this if you’re to survive.”
“What is she going to do to me?” he repeated.
Adeline answered for his father as she breezed into the tight foyer to stand behind Trick. “Dis talisman will make you forget you can do magic, and it will keep your powers in check. You’ll be a normal lad when I am done wid ya.”
“What if I take it off?”
“You won’t. Dat’s part of me spell. You won’t want to take it off.”
She returned to her chanting in the other room while his father said goodbye.
A familiar wave of panic washed over Trick, and he started to hyperventilate. “You can’t. Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll be good.”
His father’s eyes misted with tears, and the sight frightened Trick more than anything else. In his entire life he hadn’t seen the man cave to his emotions. In fact, his father had taught him how to hide them and be strong on the outside even if you were crumbling inside.
His father took him by the shoulders in a bruising grip and locked gazes with him. “My son, I will miss you more than you can fathom.”
“You can’t leave me here!” It became harder to breathe. “Please!”
“I want you to have a normal life with a normal family.”
“I don’t want normal! I want to be like you.”
That made his father smile.
He smoothed Trick’s hair in the way he always did at bedtime. “This is going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done, harder than leaving your brothers.” When Trick gasped, his father admitted, “Yes, you have brothers, two of them, both older. I had to give them up to protect them from your grandfather. So I know what it takes to bury those emotions deep.”
“Daddy, please don’t leave me.”
He felt like such a baby for crying and begging, especially with the gypsy in the background. But he was desperate. He couldn’t lose his father.
His father whispered in a gruff voice. “Parents aren’t supposed to have favorites, but know that you were mine.”
Then the man stood to his full height.
Reverting to early childhood, Trick dropped on his knees and wrapped his arms around one of his father’s legs. The man couldn’t leave him if he held on tight. No way was he letting go. Without his father to protect him, he would be eaten by monsters.
His father reached down and hung the necklace around Trick’s neck. A weird dizzy sensation made him turn loose. For a second, he thought he might throw up. His father grabbed him by the shoulders and lifted him to his feet.
“Don’t take that necklace off,” his father said. “You will shower with it, sleep with it, live with it. Do you understand?”
Trick felt like he was floating on a soft cloud. He nodded slowly as he drifted in a dreamlike state. His anxiety disappeared. “Okay.”
“I mean it, Patrick. Promise me.”
“I promise, Dad.”
Then the feeling was gone, and he was in his right mind, a mind minus a few important memories. He couldn’t remember how they’d gotten to the gypsy’s house, but he knew his father was leaving him there. She was supposed to pass him off to someone who would give him to strangers on a temporary basis; his father wanted him to experience normal life.
His father hunched down to say goodbye.
Trick’s arms went around his neck, and he hugged him until his muscles hurt. He didn’t want to let go. If he held onto his dad long enough, maybe he’d change his mind about leaving.
“Why do I have to live with other people?” Trick sniffled.
“We’ve been over this.” His father gently disengaged from the fierce hug. “You may think you want to be a hunter like me, but you’re still a child. I want you to experience school, family dinners, and all the other stuff you’ve been missing. Then you’ll be able to make an informed decision. After your mother died, I should have given you to someone with a good home instead of dragging you from town to town. My mistake. Give it a chance. You might love normal life so much that you choose to stay with these people permanently.”
“I won’t.” He folded his arms in stubborn defiance. “Nothing will change my mind. I want to be a hunter like you, Dad. When are you coming back to get me?”
“Soon,” his father whispered against the side of his head as he kissed him through his hair. “I promise. I’ll come back soon.”
♫
Present day Trick thumped a closed fist against the stone terrace floor, wishing it was his father’s face. Liar! The man had dumped him on strangers and hadn’t kept his promise to return. It had all been a lie.
Trick touched his chest, the spot where the talisman had rested a few minutes ago. The skin beneath his shirt felt oddly cool. For years the talisman had weighed on him like a heavy burden he couldn’t put down. It was good to have it gone. If Dani returned it, he vowed to toss it in the trash.
His father wasn’t the only one who could break a promise.
When he first came to live with the Donovan’s, he’d believed his father would return. Every time he asked the Donovan’s if they’d heard fro
m his father, they gave each other this look that clearly said they were hiding something. But he didn’t give up easily. For two years he’d held onto the belief that his father would come back.
That belief had died when he was thirteen and came home from school to find adoption papers on the kitchen table. Anger had surged to life beneath his skin. His lips parted, ready to start shouting at the Donovan’s for trying to steal him from his father. Words screamed through his head, demanding release.
“You are not my parents, and you never will be!”
Before the first word left his mouth his gaze dropped to the bottom of the page. His father’s signature was on the line of parent giving up legal rights to their child. His father had signed the adoption papers. He didn’t want him.
But even after that horrible day an ounce of hope remained in Trick’s heart. It hadn’t died until he turned sixteen and realized if his father had planned to come back for him, he would have done it already. Ian didn’t care. In fact, Trick was better off without the liar.
Hating his father was easier than missing him.
Trick pushed to his feet and took a last look through the terrace door before going home. He glanced up at Dani’s lit bedroom window as he crossed his backyard. At least she was home safe for the night.
He went inside, locked the door, and made sure the entire house was secure. Matt was already in the living room. His brother settled down on the couch, and Trick took the first watch. He spent the next four hours wandering from room to room while going over his recovered memories. The New Orleans flashback was just the tip of the iceberg.
Stuff he hadn’t thought about in years came rushing to the surface. But there were memories he couldn’t reach, ones buried deep, still blocked, and those were the ones he wanted most.
What had he done to turn his father against him?
Unfortunately, the single thing that continued to replay in his mind was the gypsy’s voice repeating the fact that his powers would kill him.
Lucky for him, he didn’t have powers, not anymore. They would have surfaced by now even with the necklace hanging around his neck like a noose. Right? There would have been something, a small sign that he still had them. The gypsy had been wrong. Here he was almost eighteen and the Dark Wizard hadn’t loaded him up with powers.
