“More of that later,” he says.
The sun is setting around us, but I can make out Maple’s shadow through some trees not too far away. Ric and Maple are taking down a couple more demons. They don’t usually put two pairs in one area, but there were a lot of incident reports today so Ric and Maple joined us. They secured the very large perimeter from Nons so they wouldn’t see us kill demons or use magic, and now we’re a double helping from the can of magical whoop ass. I watch across the way as the demons they’re fighting burst into nothing.
Ric and Maple high five as they walk toward me and Carter, who, ever on alert, scans the woods for more demons. Demons are like a “come kick our ass” beacon to him. I’m almost positive he still hunts them in his spare time, even though I pretend he’s not been doing it more and more over the last week. Hunting and killing. I keep telling myself that he’ll mention it when he’s ready.
“We are awesome,” Maple says.
“They should give us all a wall of honor,” Ric adds.
“And tiaras made of chocolate,” she offers.
“That’s my girl.”
I laugh as they bump hips. The warmth of the void is subsiding, yet there’s a shift from strong and good, powerful, to bloated like a balloon. Full, as if I could pop at any moment.
“Let’s get out of here,” Carter says, leading the rest of us out of the woods. He takes my hand as we walk, and the void stirs up again at his touch. He whispers in my ear. “We have unfinished business.”
“Are you going to be part of the Enforcer bit for the Observance? The meeting is next week. One month until the biggest party of the century,” Maple says.
The woods turn into the parking lot at the mall, and pretty soon we’re all moving opposite directions to our cars. My stomach growls. I’m ready for some lunch, after we file our official Enforcer report. Maybe Chinese. I look toward Ric and Maple. “Do I really have a choice, or are you asking nicely?”
“Nicely,” Ric says. He looks at Carter. “We’ll put on a group number.”
I can tell from the scowl on Carter’s face that it’s the last thing he wants to do. Which is good for me, because that means we can get out of it. “See you later,” I say.
Maple waves, and as Carter and I turn to leave them, Taylor Plum plows into us. She looks a mess. Her dress is dirty—and is that the same dress she was wearing last time I saw her? Her hair is long waves all over her face, pointing in different directions. Her eyes are wide when she stares at us, but it’s almost like she’s not even looking at us.
“Sorry, Taylor,” I say.
Taylor sputters, and then takes off in a dash down the parking lot. We all stand still, trying to figure out what happened.
“She’s usually so excited,” I say, stare after her. Taylor’s already lost in the cars.
“Yeah, she’s normally a doll.” Ric asks.
Then, there’s a scream. All four of us exchange a quick look, then move at a run toward the sound. It’s the same way Taylor went. Carter shouts out a glamor to cloak us as we move, and faster than I imagine, we’re somewhere in the sea of cars.
A body is on the ground, and I expect it to be Taylor. But, when I look, it’s some Non. Taylor is in the corner huddled by the back tire of a large pick-up truck, terror on her face, tears streaming down it. I inch toward her and sparks fly from her hands, causing a lamppost behind us to crash to the ground. Taylor screams when it happens, her eyes wild.
“She did magic,” Ric yells.
That’s not possible. Statics can’t do magic, but we all saw it. Taylor is shaking and sobbing. Maple bends over the Non and shakes her head. Dead. A Static killed a Non.
“Are you sure she’s Static?” Carter asks.
“Positive,” Ric and I say at the same time.
Yet somehow she has magic. I step toward Taylor and lean down. Carter pulls at my shoulder, but he won’t sway me. I get how jarring it is to have magic when you haven’t before—it’s what happened to me when I met Carter. If she did this with magic, then I can help her. I hold out a hand to her, and Taylor’s wide brown eyes look at me.
“Taylor, you can trust me. You have magic now?” I ask.
Taylor nods slowly. Her lip trembles as she talks. “It was only a spark or two earlier but I-I can’t control it. I feel like it’s tearing me apart,” she says. Her hand finds a place on her arm, and her skin is bleeding. When I look closer I can see why. It almost looks like she’s been scratching at her own arm.
“Did it just happen?”
She shakes her head. “No, two days ago. Right after I saw you.”
I steal a look up at Carter. Five days ago we made all those demons disappear, and I got my own magic, with the void. Then I see Taylor in the Nucleus House and now she has magic? That can’t be a coincidence. I reach my hand out closer to Taylor. If she takes it then we can figure out a way to help her. Taylor studies my hand, but doesn’t reach for it.
“You’re safe with us,” I say.
Taylor hesitates, but then her hand is in mine and I’m pulling her to her feet when her eyes give the briefest flash of this really, really dark green in her eyes. I feel it in that instance, an explosion inside me, and then her magic zaps me, sending me flying across the parking lot. All I can feel when it travels through my body is a numbing sensation. It seems to mingle with my magic and make everything swirl and spin. Vaguely, I see the others go to my defense.
Ric races toward her, then he’s sprawled across to the back of the lot. My head spins. Carter moves toward me, yelling my name, and then I can’t see him. Taylor tosses him down like a ragdoll. I’m on my feet in time to see Maple lunge for Taylor. Taylor is faster and Maple screams and she’s slung across the parking lot—further and with more force than I can imagine—along with what looks like something bright and fizzy, electric almost. I hear the thud of her body smashing against the side of a parked semi in the back of the lot. I stand, cradling my head, because this is not normal.
It’s not the act of throwing Maple or the fact that Taylor Plum has magic, but it’s the thing I saw with the magic. The fuzzy bright light. No one has light like that. Ever. Even a witch with who has had powers all his or her life. Somehow, I saw it flow through her body. Was I the only one who saw it?
Taylor is sobbing, screaming at the top of her lungs. I can feel the power, too, tearing and bouncing and prying at the edges of me. It wants out. It’s a burning ice under my skin, and I can totally understand why she feels like the way she does. Does it hurt her or is she scared? I should go help her, but I don’t like that she has magic. Not when I had to do so much to just get a spark of it. She doesn’t deserve it. She can’t even control it. I could take it away again and then—
“Penelope,” a voice says.
A figure stands before me, familiar. It’s fuzzy at first, then it leans in closer to my view—it’s the mauve-colored demon. The one that helped Carter and me escape De’Intero. We wouldn’t be alive without it. Its eyes are on me, darting between Taylor and me. It hisses at Taylor, who starts screaming louder, and then hits her with some sort of magic that sends the Static—former Static—running beyond the cloaking barrier.
That was counterproductive. Now there’s some girl on the loose who has no idea how to use magic. We have to tell someone. Her Enforcer sister, and the Council. Maybe even the Triad. They’ll need to be told.
The mauve demon’s eyes are on me. “I wouldn’t do that.”
I cock an eyebrow toward the demon. “Do what?”
“Tell people about this. It’s happening because of you,” the mauve demon says, its eyes darkening. “What were you feeling when you were looking at that girl? Not quite yourself?”
“What? Nothing.” But I was angry. How did the demon know what I was thinking? Or that I was feeling unusual? Why was I angry? I shake the thought away. “What’s because of me?”
Carter stands slowly, and then freezes when he sees the demon. The mauve demon looks between us, but I nod toward
Ric. Carter goes to his side. I watch him from the corner of my eye, but Ric’s not getting up. Is he dead? I push down my panic as the magic seizes me. The mauve demon stands, silent, and I wonder what its thinking. How is it here? It must know something else.
“Tell me.”
The demon doesn’t respond at first, but Carter gives me a nod that Ric’s not dead. I exhale, and square my focus on the demon as Carter moves from Ric to Maple. The mauve demon looks me up and down, and then nods. Her eyes dart toward Carter as he steps closer to where Maple lies on the ground.
“Magic is a balance, and any tipping of the scale can destroy it all,” Mauve says.
I’ve heard that before. Read it, in fact. The day I got back from De’Intero, that line was written in an open book on Poncho Alistair’s desk in the library. The words are a message. Obviously an important message or this demon wouldn’t be saying it. The same reason Poncho wouldn’t have purposely left them out for me to see. “What does that mean?”
But something in my bones tells me I already know the answer. The demon doesn’t say anything else.
“She’s not breathing!”
I spin around to look and Maple’s still sprawled out on the ground. All four of our phones chime the high note, low note, high note of the WNN. The demon glances among us all at the sound, and then as quickly as it comes, it flickers away. So much for being helpful.
“Call someone, Penelope,” Carter yells.
I pull out my phone and run to Ric’s side. Before I make the call, I glance at the screen.
Static has power unexplained magical burst while driving her kids to camp: four killed.
It’s not only Taylor.
I ignore the message and call the Council. While I wait for someone to answer, my brain races to figure out how this happened, and what exactly it means. If the mauve demon says it’s because of me, then why? What did we really do down there?
Ric coughs and I take his hand, but he doesn’t squeeze it. His eyes flicker open, searching mine frantically. At least he’s alive. That’s what matters. He’s alive.
A voice comes on the line asking me what I’m reporting. “Static attacked with magic—two Enforcers are injured.”
I tell them my location and they say they’re coming. When I hang up, the phone has more messages. One, two, three more incidents of Statics with magic.
Crap on a stick.
Then Ric screams. I cover my ears and he’s sitting straight up, screaming. After a second he stops and falls back to the concrete. I look over at Carter.
What’s happening right now?
But from the look on his face I can tell he’s as freaked out as I am.
Chapter Six
Carter
Pen sits next to me in one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs. She turns her salt vial necklace over and over in her fingers. The waiting is the worst part, and there’s nothing I can say to her to make it better.
“When are we going to hear?” she asks. Her nose crinkles up and her eyes get wider as she scrolls through the WNN alerts on her phone with her other hand. I want her to stop looking at that thing.
“Soon,” I say, even though I have no idea.
Pen shakes her head. “There have been seventeen occurrences since we got to the hospital.” An hour ago. “What’s happening to the Statics?” Her voice gets lower. “What did we do in De’Intero?”
What had we done? We were going to die there, and she’d taken my hand so we could share magic. I couldn’t die without kissing her one last time. The rest of what happened was beyond either of us.
“Statics have magic. They have no idea how to use it. How many Statics are going to get it now—everyone? Only some?” Pen asks. Her phone dings the tone of the WNN updates—high note, low note, high note—and this time she ignores it, sliding the phone into her pocket. “This is huge, Carter.”
That’s an understatement. Statics aren’t supposed to have magic. Witches are born with magic or they aren’t. No one had ever been an exception until I met Pen. Since her essence was stolen as a kid, she shouldn’t have magic, either. But she does. Now she has even more thanks to the void. That can’t be a coincidence. The mauve demon said magic was a balance. If what we did in De’Intero upset that balance, we need to restore it before anyone, especially the Triad, finds out we’re involved.
“We’ll figure it out,” I say. I pull her close to me and I kiss the top of her head. If this is linked to us like the mauve demon said, then there has to be a reason. Luckily, I’m good at puzzles. I get them. They’re like chess. A strategy, a method. You have to look at the whole board, see the whole picture before you can build it. One rule my dad made sure I memorized: know the moves you want to make before you make them.
Prescott men are always prepared to do whatever necessary to win.
Someone says Pen’s name and we both look up. Connie stands in the doorway, and she is out of my arms and into her sister’s in a second. “What’s happening?” Connie asks, her voice uneasy.
Pen stands beside her, and even though she says reassuring things to her sister, I can see through the mask. I can see through it because I wear the same one. The one that says, “I’m in charge and I can handle it.” Pen wears it almost better than I do, and I’ve been in training since I was a kid.
Prescott men must never show weakness.
I hate that my mind goes to my dad’s voice. To his demand that I be exactly what he expects to me be—and that I always listen to him. How the hell does that happen? Sometimes it feels like I’m destined to be the other thing I hate. That despite the choices I make for myself, I’ll end up exactly like him.
Pen and Connie move back toward the chairs, and a movement behind them catches my eye. A long white beard, like the demon Vassago—the demon of lost things. I take a step toward the hall but there’s no smell of sulfur in the air to alert me that a demon’s near.
I’m losing it.
I hate hospitals. They always smell too clean. Nothing is this clean, or this white.
The last of my coffee drips from a machine.
That’s another reason I hate hospitals: the coffee tastes horrible.
My phone dings. A text from Pen.
Your dad is here.
Dad? I press a lid on the coffee and bolt back up the elevator. Victor Prescott doesn’t go the hospital out of the kindness of his heart. I know the way he works, the way the Triad works, better than that. If he’s here then he’s not here alone and he’s on official business. If Statics are getting magic somehow, then he’s here to do damage control.
Prescott men must never appear out of control. We are aware and involved in every situation.
As soon as the elevator doors open, I see the three of them standing near Pen and Connie. Pen’s hands move around while she talks, a tell that she’s nervous. Rafe Ezrati is talking to her, but I’m still too far to hear what they’re discussing.
Sabrina Stone glances over her shoulder as I approach. When I was younger, I used to think she was the prettiest girl in the world with perfectly straight red hair and marble skin. I was this ten-year-old kid crushing on her. I know better now. There’s a viper under that sparkle.
“William, I wasn’t aware you were here,” Dad says, looking over Sabrina’s shoulder to me. I feel all the tension rise to my shoulders. I hate ‘William’ and that’s why he does it. ‘Carter’ is an act of rebellion, and Victor Prescott doesn’t approve of rebellion. I move to stand by Penelope, and Dad looks between us. I can’t handle him today.
“Where else would I be?” I snap. Just seeing him here makes my blood boil. “I’m surprised to see you here at all.”
Dad stares at me. “Two of our own were injured today. It’s our duty to ensure they are well.”
I scoff. Those badges are the only reason the Triad is here at all. “Because you care so much about them,” I mutter clear enough so Dad can hear me. His jaw stiffens with disapproval. I feel Pen’s eyes on me, but I ignore it. I don’t like her se
eing this side of me, but the man irritates me. His smug righteousness, his lies, and the facade that he tries to pass off as genuine. “I understand if you have more pressing matters.”
Sabrina steps forward. She and Rafe always seem to be fighting Dad’s battles for him. “We do need to ensure that our Enforcers are in a stable position.”
Dad keeps looking between me and Penelope and I have no idea why.
“We’re here to find out what happened out there. Miss Grey was explaining to us what occurred with the Static,” Rafe adds. His eyes are softer when he looks at me. He’s always been my favorite, of the three. He used to change my diapers, which is sort of weird to think about now.
“And there was no foul play?” Dad asks, eyes on me.
“Aside from a Static with magic?” Pen snaps. The Triad, Connie, and I all look at her and she stands. She’s fearless. “No. None. Taylor Plum is still out there, confused and alone.”
Rafe nods at her. “You make a valid point, Miss Grey. Many of the Statics are out there alone, afraid, and we should go see to them properly.”
I meet my Dad’s gaze as he leaves with the Triad. I don’t like the look in his eye, the suspicion that’s only there because I told him what happened last week after De’Interno. Most of what happened, anyway. I had to in order to explain it to keep the Triad from asking too many questions that day. That look makes me feel like he’s not saying everything he knows. Or worse, plotting his next move. He’s always one step ahead, always working his own agenda.
I hope I don’t regret trusting Victor Prescott last week.
Chapter Seven
Penelope
After the Triad leaves, Carter is tense. He barely talks—which is fine because Connie does enough for all of us—but he seems distracted. I take his hand, but leave him alone otherwise. He’s not like me. He’ll want to think through whatever’s going on, instead of word vomiting it out for the whole world to see.
Storm: a Salt novel (Entangled Teen) Page 4
