Magic's Divide (Magitech Book 2)

by Serena Lindahl

  “How can that be?” Alena backed away from the necklace before they all saw a return of Bette’s dinner. “It’s magic.”

  “It’s tech too. Magitech…” Alec breathed.

  The stories of Magitechs were like fairy tales. Alena had never met a Magitech. She’d always believed they were fictitious characters, meant to scare greedy children who wanted to be both techie and mage. Parents warned them that Magitechs went crazy because both talents constantly battled for dominance in their bodies and minds.

  “Does that mean?” Alena whispered the words and three pairs of eyes turned toward the girl on the settee. “Is Eden a Magitech?”

  Alec shrugged. “Not necessarily. Because her magic was suppressed, her body might have been able to tolerate this tiny amount of tech. It’s evident to me, though, that the person who made this was almost certainly Magitech. A techie and a mage couldn’t have worked together on this. It’s too intricate, too precise, too complex, and incorporates too much of both worlds.” His observation echoed in the small room.

  Bette appeared thoughtful. “Her magic is settling,” she said brusquely.

  Alena winced. It had happened so fast, she hadn’t checked on the woman’s magic. She released the shields she maintained at all times to keep from being overwhelmed by the mages in the house. Bits of Eden’s magic were still chaotic, bouncing around her like moths reflecting off a lantern. Other parts glowed in her aura like magelight, slowly gathering strength and presence. Almost all magic had a color when it was connected to a person, and Eden’s magic was both soft yellow and bright gold. It was beautiful.

  Alena sensed the standard connection to the earth almost all mages shared but had difficulty understanding the rest. Some of Eden’s magic felt foreign, tainted, or different than any ability she’d ever encountered. She sucked in a breath. Could Eden be Magitech? And if she was, would she slowly go insane as the two natures fought within her? The stories of Magitechs always ended similarly. Magic and tech couldn’t coexist without repercussions. In the same person, they caused madness or internal battles that ended in the person’s death.

  Eden’s soft groan interrupted further contemplation. Alena fell to her knees beside the settee. Alec rewrapped the amulet in the cloth and stuffed it in his pocket. Alena wanted him to get rid of it as soon as possible. She didn’t know what effect it might have on him if he remained in contact with it. She never wanted to see it again. If Eden woke up hurt or damaged, she would personally destroy it, regardless of whether it could give them clues or not.

  Chapter Ten

  Eden

  Eden hurt. Every muscle, every thought, every breath. She woke slowly, her eyes burning. The room was unfamiliar, and her brain needed several minutes to remember where she was. Softly glowing lights around the room hurt her sensitive eyes, but she didn’t want to remain unconscious. A nagging sensation poked at her – she had to do something, or she’d forgotten something crucial.

  Alena’s face came into focus first, then Bette’s and Alec’s. The latter two were at a greater distance, but they were all staring at her with the same intense concern. She raised a shaky hand to her head, feeling the wet cloth. Her body felt strange beyond the pain, like she needed to relearn how to use it. It reminded her of how she’d felt after the accident. The concerns flooding through her distracted her so much, she couldn’t bother to be embarrassed at the three people who stared at her like she’d sprouted another head. She looked curiously at her arm. Nope. Whatever had happened to her, her arm hadn’t suddenly grown back, and she didn’t appear to be missing any other limbs.

  Welcome back. The voice spoke in Eden’s mind, both unfamiliar and soothing at the same time. Her gaze found the white owl. His yellow eyes glowed with intelligence and compassion. The night’s events returned to her, and the remembered shock convinced her to struggle to a sitting position. After a second of trying, however, she groaned and lay back down. Her head felt like Alec had chopped it with his ax.

  The pain is temporary, the owl said. Eden couldn’t decide whether an owl’s assurance was comforting.

  “What happened?” Her voice was raspy and tight.

  “Your familiar arrived and broke the spell that was closing off your magic. You passed out, probably from the shock,” Alena said slowly. She spoke softly, but the sound still hurt her head.

  “My familiar? My magic?” Eden croaked. Bette held a glass of water she swore hadn’t been there a second ago. Alena helped her prop her shoulders up and tilt the cup. Her helplessness bothered her. Alena’s touch no longer shocked her. Instead, the contact hummed soothingly against her skin.

  Smells and sounds filtered in slowly, stronger than they’d ever been before. She could hear the others’ breathing and a heartbeat that had to belong to Alena since she was closest. Alena smelled woodsy with a hint of roses. Bette smelled like vanilla and warm chocolate cookies. Alec smelled like pine and musk, a masculine smell that settled in her nose as pleasantly as Alena’s touch against her skin did. Beneath the smells of her human companions, she smelled dog and an odor that resembled the tang of crisp, fall night air.

  That would be me, the voice said again, the one she’d attributed to the owl.

  “What is you?” Eden asked aloud, causing the humans in the room to look at her strangely. The owl ignored them.

  The smell of night. I was hunting when I heard you call me. My name is Gideon; you can consider me your familiar for the time being. His head dipped in something that resembled a bow. Eden’s brow furrowed, sending another stab of pain through her temples.

  “I didn’t call you,” she protested.

  Alena looked confused, probably worried the fall had addled her brains. Eden wasn’t so certain it hadn’t. “What are you talking about, Eden?”

  Eden pointed at the huge owl. “I’m talking to him, not you.”

  Alena’s eyes darted to the owl then back again, widening. “Oh.” She paused. “He speaks in words?”

  The owl answered in Eden’s mind, his feathers ruffling. Of course, I speak in words. I’m not a dog. She restrained the urge to laugh at his affronted tone.

  “Yes, he speaks in words,” Eden repeated, not relaying the last of the message. She didn’t think Zar or Alena would appreciate it. “I didn’t call you,” she repeated again, directing her voice toward the owl.

  Your magic called me. It was crying out to be released. I helped it. And you can speak to me without speaking aloud. Just think the words in your mind.

  You can read my thoughts? Eden asked in her head experimentally.

  In a sense, Gideon said. For some reason, the idea didn’t fill Eden with the fear such an admission might have provoked. It’s because we are, in a sense, two halves of a whole, Gideon replied to her unspoken words. I’ll explain more when you have recovered somewhat, but right now I want to finish the hunting you interrupted. I’m hungry. I’ll be watching over you in case you need me. And with that, the owl disappeared into thin air.

  Bette huffed. “Don’t know why he couldn’t do that before, instead of soaring in my back door, all dramatic like.”

  “Or having me carry him into the room,” Alena mused, not at all surprised by the owl’s sudden disappearance. Eden’s mind bubbled with questions. But the pain was coming in waves now, and it started dragging her under the tide. Currents of exhaustion pulled at her. The sounds, smells, and nerve impulses were pummeling her with pain and discomfort. Every new odor and sensation competed for the same space in her mind, and she feared she didn’t have enough room for it all.

  “I need to sleep,” she moaned.

  Bette nodded. “That’s a good idea, child.”

  Eden attempted again to raise herself to a seated position, but her muscles felt like she’d run a marathon. Each movement also sent a flash of pain through her head. Alena laid a hand on her arm, and Eden enjoyed the comforting tingle of her touch. “Don’t try to get up. I don’t think you’ll be able to walk. Would you mind if Alec carried you? He carried you i
n here.”

  Eden’s cheeks reddened. The idea of being cradled in his leanly muscled arms was both exciting and embarrassing. She wasn’t a child. She looked at Bette. “Can’t you just, you know, pop me up there like you did with the food?” She assumed the food had reappeared somewhere else after Bette made it disappear.

  “Why would I do that, child, when there’s a strong man right here who could move you much easier? I’m old, and my magic doesn’t work as well anymore.”

  Alena snorted but smoothed her features when Bette shot her a quelling look. Eden also doubted the truth of Bette’s words but didn’t want to call the older woman out for something so trivial. After another failed attempt at sitting up, she closed her eyes in frustration. She debated just sleeping on the settee, but it was incredibly uncomfortable to her sensitive nerve endings. The soft bed in the blue room called to her.

  “Fine,” she muttered, trying not to sound resentful. She didn’t open her eyes as she was gingerly lifted in strong arms, one under her shoulders and one under her knees. Alec’s scent nearly overwhelmed her. She imagined she could even smell his emotions, uncertainty and a tiny bit of fear. She restrained a small smile. Evidently, she was scary to Alec. She wondered if it was because of her arm or all the trouble she’d caused. His heart beat rapidly against the side of her cheek, but he acted gentlemanly. Even though his hands were large, the one under her opposite armpit was very careful not to brush against her breast. She was acutely aware of her stumpy arm cradled against his chest and wished he’d approached her from the other side. It had to be uncomfortable to him.

  Eden planned on keeping her eyes closed but opened them as Alec started to walk. It was like being blindfolded; she felt a strong urge to see where they were going. From her vantage point, she could just see the strong angle of Alec’s jaw coated in dark stubble. He had a tiny white scar on the underside of his chin. His pulse beat in his neck, very obvious to her heightened senses. Her pain had eased somewhat in his arms, and she allowed herself to enjoy his strong embrace. It had been so long since she’d been held or hugged by anyone other than Izzy. She ended her train of thought before the pity party started.

  Alena exited the room first. The hallway was crowded with the remaining members of the house. They cleared a path to the bottom of the stairs, thankfully not speaking. Zar trotted after them, growling at anyone who dared to creep too close.

  Alec carried her without difficulty. He had to shift her closer to him to navigate the stairs, and she subconsciously nestled into his chest, her cheek rubbing against the hard planes of his chest. His heart beat faster and his smell shifted a tiny bit. Eden sniffed experimentally. Was that desire? She frowned. Clearly, her nose needed to work on emotion detection.

  “Sorry,” she muttered when they were halfway up the stairs, her words meant for Alec alone. He met her gaze and Eden noted how blue his eyes were. They weren’t mingled with green or gray like other blue eyes, just a dark blue.

  “It’s not a difficulty; you’re really light.”

  “Or you’re really strong,” she mumbled. Alec’s soft chuckle vibrated through his chest. She was a little sad when they reached her room. The pain had either receded while in his arms, or his touch had thoroughly distracted her.

  Alena pulled back the covers, Alec lowered her to the mattress, and she moaned involuntarily. The bed felt amazing. She had gotten used to her thin, worn mattress on the floor in her studio, but this had to be the heaven that strange Christian sect preached about. She had never felt anything so comforting and indulgent. Well, Alec’s arms were a close second.

  Alec stepped back, and Alena pulled the blanket over her. The other woman’s hand hesitated before stroking her cheek softly. “Will you be ok?” she asked in concern.

  Fatigue robbing her of good sense, Eden leaned into Alena’s soft touch. If Alec and Alena lay down on either side of her, she might sleep the best she’d ever slept in her life. Until she woke and reality set in, that is. She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of Alena’s soft skin against hers and the comforting hum that almost felt like a second caress. Alena’s touch lingered but pulled away when it had become too long to just be a comforting gesture.

  “I’ll be fine,” Eden murmured, wondering what was wrong with her. She was never so needy. The turmoil within her body craved companionship and comfort. “I just need sleep,” she whispered. Alena stepped away from the bed, and Eden immediately felt the loss.

  “Zar will sleep in your room tonight. If you need anything, he’ll tell me.”

  The idea of a giant dog sleeping next to her bed should have been concerning, but Eden couldn’t call the emotion. “Ok,” she murmured softly, already falling asleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Alec

  Alec waited for Alena in the hall, feeling the need to comfort both of the women. Something had happened when Eden’s magic had burst open. When he’d touched her, she had felt different from Alena. He remembered the sensation from his childhood or his time at university; both environments had surrounded him with techies. There was a comfort in being around other techies, an ease he had forgotten about in his many years at the mage house. He would still test Eden, but he would wager she possessed tech abilities.

  He also couldn’t erase the feel of her in his arms. He had loved the softness of her against him, the coiled muscles that were leaner than Alena’s but still very womanly. He had sensed her overwhelming doubt and wished he could erase that worry from her shoulders by telling her how exceptional she was. He hadn’t encountered such strong emotions since he met Alena.

  The twins lingered at the top of the stairs, looking over the banister, and Kathy peered through their legs like a monkey. When Alena emerged from Eden’s room, she waved her hands at them. “Shoo. She needs quiet to sleep and get better.”

  “Is she going to be ok?” Kathy asked. “Was the owl her familiar? Where’s the owl now? Did she get her magic back?”

  Alec and Alena restrained their laughter. Kathy was a ball of curious energy at all times. She meant well, but she was a handful.

  “She’ll be fine,” Alena said, and Alec hoped it was true. The twins ushered Kathy back down the stairs. The enticing scent of chocolate chip cookies drifted on the air, and he knew the real reason the girls left. Bette held the power to draw away the house’s occupants, especially the younger ones, with one well-placed cookie dish. It almost urged him to go downstairs as well, so great was the pied piper song of a Brownie’s baked goods.

  Mac's spiky hair peeked from her room at the end of the hall. Alec and Alena waited for her to say something. Usually, Mac stayed under the radar. She didn’t want anyone to know where she was at any given time, but she almost looked like she might say something. The younger woman only nodded though and slipped back into her room, closing the door gently behind her. She hadn’t said much since she’d arrived at the house, but occasionally she talked to Alec about random tech things, matters that didn’t require emotion. Alec sensed it was a comfort to her and guessed she had grown up around techies like many of the runaway mages in the house.

  “You need to get rid of that thing in your pants.” Alena motioned to the bulge in his pocket. He followed the direction of her eyes and grinned. The amulet hardly affected him at all. As far as tech went, it was too sophisticated for him to understand, and he couldn’t sense the magic that made the mages so jumpy.

  “That isn’t what you usually want,” he joked. Alena smiled playfully and punched his shoulder. She knew better than to try to hit him harder because it hurt her more than it bothered him, but she liked to assert her dominance and Alec didn’t mind. “But yes, you’re probably right,” he said seriously. “Come on. I want to do a quick search on the internet.”

  Alena’s eyes widened, echoing the look of a deer in the headlights of a car. “Me?”

  “Come on, Lena. You won’t fry the computer if you sit next to me. I’ll do the searches. I might need help deciphering something on one of the mage sites.
We also need to do a search for a really strong Magitech in the last twenty years, someone who could have made the necklace.” One came instantly to mind, but he refused to believe his old friend Davin could create something so evil. Besides, Davin would have been a teenager when the amulet was created. Davin might be intelligent, but even that was beyond him.

  Alena groaned dramatically, just as she did every time he asked her to do something tech-related with him, but she still followed him into his office. The room was his sanctuary, a place of calm in the sometimes crazy house. Dark wood tones were accented with leather, reminding him how much he loved to be outdoors. Books lined the walls, arranged by subject and then in alphabetical order by author. The centerpiece was a massive desk. Two monitors graced the surface, the brain of the machine humming under the desk. The desk itself was immaculate, just the way he liked it.

  Alena flinched. This room always made her uncomfortable, but he knew she was equally curious about the search. Although she didn’t understand it, she didn’t deny that the internet was a powerful tool for both techs and mages. Alec didn’t let her touch the machine, though. He didn’t have the funds for another computer if her magic fried the processor; he’d learned that lesson the hard way. He pulled a second chair closer to the desk, and she sat, her body leaning as far away as it could. Alec pulled the cloth-wrapped amulet from his pocket and started to unwrap it.

  Alena stopped him with a hand on his opposite shoulder, far away from the package. “Don’t do that. The thing makes me sick.”

  Alec frowned. “Like sick, sick?”

  “Yes, like I’m going to throw up. It didn’t affect me like that when it was on Eden’s neck, but it does now.”

  “Interesting.” Alec moved a couple steps away from her and studied the amulet again. It was just a moonstone surrounded by silver, but the computer chip set into the back of it fascinated him. It was so tiny and perfect. He’d never seen a piece of tech so delicate. If it really restrained Eden’s tech, it was a marvel, a miracle almost. Suppressing people’s magic and tech was a skill that could change the entire world. What if someone created a blanket jammer for all abilities? They would all become mundanes, and the world would never function the same again. Everyone that relied on their tech or magic to survive day-to-day could die.