“That might have been Jace, honey. Aren’t you going to talk to him?” she asked.
“No. This is our special family time. I’ll talk to him later.”
“I’m proud of you, Rachel. I’m glad you aren’t getting too serious about Jace. You’re too young.”
Things were more serious than my mother could have ever imagined. More serious than I wanted to admit to myself. I contacted Jace across our link and we talked all night.
***
Jeffrey and I had plans to spend time together the following day. My mother had a lunch date with an old friend from college, so my brother and I would have a little bit of time to ourselves. Jeffrey took me shopping at Little Five Points and after that, we headed back to his apartment to hang out. Something had been weighing on my mind for weeks and I decided to get it off my chest. There were some things I had to know, and it was now or never.
“Jeffrey, did Daddy give you anything before he died? A family heirloom or jewelry or anything?” I hesitated, afraid once I brought the subject up, there would be no turning back. I wanted information, but not at the expense of revealing any of my own secrets.
“Why do you want to know?” He seemed anxious. I could tell he was hiding something. I decided to give him a chance to fill me in before invading his mind.
“Daddy gave me a necklace before he died.” I pulled the necklace out from underneath my sweater. Jeffrey glanced at it without expression.
“He gave me something, but it was stolen a couple of years ago right before…well, you know. Whoever broke into my apartment tore the place apart, but my gift from Dad was the only thing missing. Before the break-in, I often had the feeling that I was being followed. Afterwards, I thought the people who were out to get me might have been after my family heirloom instead. Mama told me I was imagining things and made me see a psychiatrist. It sounds crazy, doesn’t it?” he asked, glancing away from me. He stood up and walked to the window overlooking the busy street below.
Poor Jeffrey. I knew what it was like to feel watched, or to feel like you were going crazy. If Jeffrey had magic like I did, it was possible there were Hunters after him. He wasn’t paranoid. It wasn’t in his head.
“I don’t think you’re crazy,” I said. “What did Daddy give you?”
“It was an engraved piece of marble I carried with me everywhere.”
“Why didn’t you have it with you the day of the break-in?” I asked, curious. I knew the dangers of leaving my necklace behind, but I still foolishly forgot mine the morning of our trip, so I wasn’t judging Jeffrey—just trying to figure out if there was a pattern. Were the people who broke into his apartment regular thieves who just happened to take a liking to the marble heirloom, or were they Hunters specifically looking for that very item?
“I was afraid I’d lose it,” he said, “so I started leaving it home more and more often, especially when I had to work. I mean, what kind of grown man carries a pet rock everywhere he goes? Thank God I took a picture of the words on it before it disappeared so I could get this…” He tugged at the hem of his shirt. “If you tell Mama, I’ll kill you.”
He removed his shirt to reveal his secret. Four black lines of unintelligible script were tattooed on the back of his shoulder. “Dad told me it was the language of our ancestors. It must be some kind of tribal language from Africa.”
“How long have you had that?” I asked, gaping at a tattoo which was unremarkable, but for the fact that our mother would beat him to death if she saw it. I could already hear her “your body is a temple” lecture.
“I got it done right after…well, after I had my problem,” he said. “It made me feel better.”
“Can I take a picture of it with my cell phone?” I asked, hopefully. “I have an older friend who’s sort of into ancient languages and stuff. She could translate it for you.” I almost said “me” instead of “you,” but changed it at the last minute. I didn’t want Jeffrey to know how important this was to me.
“Um, I guess. I don’t know. Dad was really secretive about it.” Jeffrey seemed unsure.
“Then why did you tattoo it on your body? You must not have been too concerned with keeping it secret then.” I tried not to push, but I was convinced the meaning of the words were the key to something.
“It was sort of Dad’s idea,” Jeffrey confessed. “Before he died, I told him I thought it would make a badass tattoo. He told me he thought it was a good idea, but not to let Mama see it. Obviously. He told me he would have done it himself in his younger years, but never got around to it. That conversation kind of planted the seed in my mind. I’m glad I followed through—that I have something of his always.”
Jeffrey’s voice trembled and I couldn’t blame him. I thought about how I would feel if my necklace were stolen. I couldn’t imagine anything worse. “I’m glad you got the tattoo, Jeffrey. Please, can I take a picture? I’ve been wondering about Daddy’s side of our family and our heritage. It would mean a lot to me.”
“Yeah, fine. Go ahead. But when you find out what it means, shoot me a text. I’m curious too.”
Cell phone pictures were unpredictable at best, but I tried my hardest to get as clear a shot as possible. The fact that his skin was nearly as dark as the words on the tattoo didn’t help, so I made him stand under the light. When I was finished taking pictures, he turned away from me and put his shirt back on.
“Thanks, Jeffrey. If you can think of anything else he might have said about our heritage or his family, let me know, and I’ll do the same. Mama doesn’t seem to know much about his past. It’s weird.”
Then saying a silent prayer for forgiveness, I pushed my mind toward my brother’s. It felt like my skull collided with an iron wall. The nausea and dizziness almost made me lose consciousness.
“Rachel, what’s wrong?” Jeffrey rushed to my side. Thankfully, he had no idea what had just happened. If he knew what I tried to do, he would never have forgiven me.
“I… I’m okay.” I could barely speak. “Migraine…purse… quick.”
Jeffrey handed me my purse and I fumbled for my bottle of pills. He had to open the bottle for me because I had no strength in my hands. He doled out two pills and handed me a can of soda. It was several minutes before the pain began to subside.
“Should I call Mama?” Jeffrey was totally freaked out.
“No…no. She’ll just get upset. I don’t want to spend the evening in the Emergency Room.” I tried to make light of my pain, but I couldn’t quite do it.
When I was finally able to stand upright, I went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. I tried to force myself to think about something besides my magic and how it had turned against me. Even in the early days of its appearance, I had never experienced such a violent and painful reaction.
Jeffrey took me back to the hotel after promising me a dozen times he would absolutely not say anything to our mother. I didn’t want to worry her, but most of all, I didn’t want to ruin her day. I knew how much she’d looked forward to meeting up with her friend and I wanted her to be able to savor the memory without her concern for me clouding it.
My mother enjoyed the rest of our stay in Atlanta, but I was counting down the hours to our return home. I longed to see Jace with an intensity that both alarmed and embarrassed me.
New Year’s Eve was probably the most difficult night for me. I tortured myself by conjuring up images of all the fun I was missing at the Alexander home. I promised myself I would wait until after midnight before calling him, but I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t be able to feel his lips on mine at the stroke of midnight, but I could at least hear his voice. With trembling hands, I dialed his number and waited for him to answer. I carried on a halting conversation with him over the phone for a few minutes under my mother’s watchful gaze. Verbally, I kept things light, glorying in the vibration of his voice coming through the receiver of the phone.
“We’re having a great time,” I said aloud, while simultaneously sending a private
message across our link. “Oh, my God, I miss you so much it hurts. There’s so much I need to tell you. I love you so much, Jace.”
I ended the cell phone portion of our conversation fairly quickly. I didn’t want to incur my mother’s disapproval. We continued to communicate across our link. As I lay in bed, the TV’s soft light flickering over my skin, I reveled in the fact that our connection was just as strong across the many miles. Only two more days, I told myself. Only two more days until we were together again.
Chapter Fifteen
Alisa
I spent nearly every day of Winter Break with the Alexanders. My mother made a few half-hearted protests about my frequent absences, but gave in when I reminded her that most people my age spent a lot of time either alone or out with friends. I hinted that she should be grateful I had friends to hang out with. Sometimes she asked why Jace and Rachel didn’t come over to our house. I told her they were both allergic to cats. One time, she even asked me why I never spent time with Becky.
“Becky hates me and always has,” I said irritably. Seriously, how could she not know that?
“That isn’t true,” she replied in avid defense of her favorite niece. “Becky loves you. One of these days, you’re going to wish you’d spent more time getting to know your cousin.” I sincerely doubted that, but didn’t bother to correct her. It hurt that my mother knew so little about me.
My parents had pretty much accepted the fact that I preferred to socialize away from home. Their complaints were fewer and farther between, and as long as I was home before curfew, they let me come and go as I pleased.
It was New Year’s Eve and I was invited to hang out at the Alexanders’ for the evening. I didn’t quite know what to expect when Jace said “New Year’s Eve party,” as I’d never been to one. On television, a typical celebration involved excessive drinking and a kiss at the stroke of midnight. I felt certain Jerica and Abe were not going to offer alcoholic beverages to a house full of people under the age of twenty-one, and I was equally certain there would be no one for me to kiss at midnight. Regardless, I looked forward to the evening.
In previous years, I’d spent New Year’s Eve alone and friendless, usually retiring to bed early with a good book. I assumed it was for this reason that I’d never really liked the holiday. What was the point in celebrating the end of one lonely and depressing year, or the beginning of a new year destined to closely resemble the previous one? I expected this year to be different, seeing as how I actually had friends to celebrate with.
I decided to pay extra attention to my appearance, so I lost track of time and didn’t hear the car pulling into my driveway until it was too late. I felt drained from the exertion of trying to wrangle my locks into something resembling a hairstyle. Some girls weren’t cut out for the rigors of hair care.
When I heard the doorbell, I threw my brush down on the dresser and bolted toward the stairs. Jace was already inside, exchanging pleasantries with my parents. To my horror, my mother invited him to come over to our house for dinner on New Year’s Day and he agreed. It would be a fiasco, I thought, cringing at the idea of sitting down at the kitchen table while my mom passed around my naked baby pictures. This had never actually happened to me, but I’d heard stories from other people and they weren’t pleasant.
I wondered if it was too late to obtain anti-anxiety meds before tomorrow. Maybe my appendix would burst and I’d spend the next few days in the hospital instead… one could only dream. After several uncomfortable minutes of conversation, we managed to disentangle ourselves from my mother’s clutches. I tore into Jace as soon as we pulled out of the driveway.
“I can’t believe you agreed to have dinner with her.” I tried to control my rising panic.
“What’s the big deal? You hang out at my house all the time. Don’t you want me to get to know your family?” Jace stared straight ahead at the road, so I couldn’t read the expression on his face. I strongly suspected he enjoyed my discomfort.
“My mother is nice and all, but she can come on pretty strong. I just don’t think I can handle a whole evening where she tells you about all my embarrassing moments. And when she asks you how many guests we should have at our wedding, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” I was too worked up to control what came out of my mouth.
“Are we getting married?” Jace asked innocently.
“My mother can’t wait to marry me off to someone,” I complained. “You just happened to be the first guy to step foot across the threshold.”
“Oh, well. Don’t worry about it. I think my mom had some of those same ideas when we first started hanging out. I overheard something she said to my dad once, and it made me feel reluctant to bring Rachel home after we started going out. That’s why I waited so long before telling my parents she was my girlfriend. I thought my mom would be shocked and act all weird, but she was fine.” This was the first I’d heard about any of this.
“Wait. What did you overhear?” I asked.
“Right after the first night we had Rachel over for dinner, my mom told my dad he should start training you. He told her he didn’t think it was necessary. He said any Hunters who came sniffing around would probably ignore you and go after those with magic to steal. She got upset and told him he had to do it. I’m trying to remember how she phrased it. Something like, ‘I see far, Abe. She’s the only one who can pull my son out of darkness, and I’m determined to do anything within my power to protect her. How do you know she won’t need training in order to save him?’ She must have had one of her visions about you—something that made her think you would end up saving my life again.”
Hope filled my heart. Jerica’s visions obviously meant something. Everyone believed in her intuition and scrambled to follow in any direction she might lead. Could this mean Jace and I would eventually end up together? But if that were true, why did she seem so unhappy the time she caught Jace holding my wrist? And why would she so easily accept and embrace Rachel as Jace’s girlfriend?
Stop it, Alisa, I scolded myself. I could not afford to let myself go down the slippery slope of fantasizing about Jace. For the sake of my friendship with Jace and the Alexanders, and for the sake of my own sanity, I had to let go. Just a month ago, I still needed to remind myself several times a day that I was not allowed to love Jace or be attracted to him. Since Christmas, I’d barely entertained any romantic thoughts toward Jace at all. Maybe it was the conversation with Rachel and my hope that we might become close friends. Or maybe it was the sparring match with Bryce that allowed me to let go of my anger. Whatever it was, I had finally cleared the biggest hurdle in accepting that Jace would never be mine.
Jace’s house was empty when we arrived. “Mom and Dad went to the store to shop for tonight. Bryce and Mikael went to Albany to pick up a buddy from the bus station,” Jace explained, rummaging in the refrigerator. He must have figured he had a good half-hour of uninterrupted feeding time before Jerica came home and kicked him out of the kitchen. He spent a great deal of time either eating or trying to snatch food from under his mom’s nose. Everyone needed a hobby, I supposed.
The house filled up quickly, and if Jerica noticed a ton of food was missing from the refrigerator, she didn’t mention it. After all the crap he ate, I was slightly disgusted by the fact that Jace was able to eat not only the dinner that was placed in front of him, but begged for seconds as well. Sure, Jace’s six-foot tall, athletic frame would require a certain number of calories, but where did all that food go? I wondered how much money the Alexander family spent on feeding their youngest son.
I looked around the crowded kitchen table, speculating about the newest, temporary addition to the household. Mordecai, silent and brooding, was the polar opposite of Mikael. Golden hair, sky-blue eyes, fair skin, easy smile, friendly personality: Mikael was like a magnet that drew light and energy. Mordecai, however, was the opposite. His deep black dreadlocks hung about his shoulders and his demeanor was cold. Mordecai’s ebony skin seemed to swallow the light and his b
lack eyes were cunning and sharp. When he smiled, it made me shudder. There was something malevolent in the baring of his teeth.
Jerica must have been aware of my covert examination of her newest guest. She interpreted my reaction to Mordecai correctly, I believed, because she nodded her head once and looked toward him with suspicion. I noticed earlier in the evening that Jerica did not insist on him calling her by her first name. I wondered if this was significant because she’d asked me to call her by her first name right away.
“Mordecai, where are you from?” she asked.
“Nigeria. My parents are living in Miami, but they shall be moving back to Africa in two months time. I believe you know my mother’s people, Mr. Alexander.” He turned his attention to Abe. “My mother is descended from the family of Nkaribo.” Mordecai’s smile widened as Abe’s dimmed.
“Yes, I knew your uncle Jabron. How is he?” Abe frowned and shot a worried look toward his wife.
“He is dead.” Mordecai delivered this answer without any emotion whatsoever. Goose bumps peppered my arms. When dinner was over, I felt weak with relief when the men left the kitchen. Jerica and I looked at each other and words were unnecessary. She didn’t like Mordecai any more than I did.
Spellbound (Spellbringers Book 1) Page 13
