But she didn’t necessarily believe it, not when you have parchment papers appearing out of thin air and your house being wrecked when the entire neighborhood was blissfully unaware. “Look, I’m doing this,” Emily said with finality. “I need you to get past that.”
“And if I can’t?” Joanna asked with defiance.
This drew a glare from Emily. They rarely fought—she and Joanna. They rarely got into disagreements. However, when they did, it took a lot to get them back together. It went to prove that there was a thin line between love and hate. Emily knew she couldn’t afford to be at odds with her best friend. Yet, she couldn’t afford to be blackmailed or pigeonholed into making a decision that wasn’t favorable to her.
“If you can’t get in line, then you’ll have no part in this, Jo.” Emily folded her arms. “Is that what you want? Do you want to abandon me to my fate?”
“I won’t sit back and watch you get yourself killed,” Joanna spoke as she joined Rina on her feet. “I won’t. I’m calling myself a cab.”
With that, Joanna left the house without a second glance to either Emily or Rina. Emily felt a shadow of depression descend on her mind as Joanna walked out. Questions beset her thoughts in quick succession. How was she going to proceed without Joanna? What was she going to do without Joanna?
“Can we trust her?” asked Rina.
Emily took a long time thinking about the question. The truth was, Joanna was a very opinionated and driven young woman. She had a streak of rebellion that often went at odds with what her loved ones wanted. If she thought it was the right play to tell everyone about Emily, she would go right ahead and do it.
Did Emily trust Joanna? Yes, she trusted that Joanna would do anything to protect her. Did she, however, trust Joanna with the truth of who she really was?
“No,” Emily admitted.
“Then you’ve got to get her to keep silent about all this. Otherwise, you won’t be alive to find that warlock.” Rina looked around at nothing in particular. “Where’s your dad? Obviously, he can’t stay around here until we’re done with this warlock business.”
“He’s with my aunt.”
“Good. Keep him there. We don’t want the warlock using him as some sort of hostage now, do we?”
Emily shook her head.
“One week, and I’ll milk Michael for everything he knows,” assured Rina. “As for you, you’ve got to get Joanna back in on this. This weekend, we go after that damned warlock.”
Emily flashed a meager smile. “Sounds like a plan.”
27
Emily spent the rest of the day locking up every door and window in her house. She spent the afternoon mindlessly looking for chores to do. She looked for anything to get her mind off the warlock business. Anything to get her mind off Joanna and whatever she might be doing.
When Emily heard a knock at the door, she half expected to see a SWAT team or a group of vigilantes coming to take her in. Though it was only the postman, Emily couldn’t help but dwell on who Joanna might have talked to about her.
Emily hated feeling this way. She hated being tense, which was what she was the whole day. She thought of calling or texting Joanna but then decided against it. Joanna would only take it as a sign of weakness on Emily’s part and use that as an opportunity to goad her into submission or even to threaten her—to drive home her point.
Emily didn’t want that. She didn’t want someone changing her mind. She couldn’t trust anyone with her destiny, certainly not Joanna’s father, a man that single-handedly sponsored the vigilantes. Certainly not the vigilantes who had killed her mom.
A curious thought occurred to Emily. If the warlock had been involved in Mom’s death, why didn’t the vigilantes arrest or kill the warlock?
Emily considered this question way into the night. No matter how much it terrified her, she kept thinking about it. She faced her fears.
There was a connection somewhere. There had to be. What about the message she’d received? When she’d told Dad about it, he’d muttered Anastacia’s name. When she’d taken Dad to Anastacia’s house, the woman had mentioned the warlock, and Emily had dismissed it as one of her antics. But now she was not so sure.
Then there was the warlock and Dad. Dad had revealed that the warlock had been in the house the night of Mom’s death. Now he was here again. He’d been responsible for Dad’s condition. Now it was her turn.
There was also Mr. Winter. The Owl had brought her attention to the fact that Mr. Winter hadn’t verbally admitted to killing Mom. Everyone assumed he had. Everyone assumed the vigilantes had. No one saw anything, except that the next morning, she was strewn around the town’s center.
The town cheered. Emily mourned.
But was it actually Mr. Winter who struck the knife? Was there even a knife? What exactly had happened that night?
Then there was the curious question of Mr. Winter’s story about Emily’s grandfather and how he’d been responsible for Mr. Winter’s father’s death. The Nadarog Maragog thing. According to her grandfather, he’d done what he’d done because he wanted to stop Nadarog Maragog. Although no one knew if he was telling the truth or if he just wanted to cause a bit of mayhem upon dying, Emily was leaning toward the truth part.
The Owl had told her that Grandfather was Adopted by an Owl. And only the Adopted were powerful enough to take on witches and warlocks. Then, in her vision, she’d seen the warlock trying to use her for a sacrifice. And he’d mentioned that she was the Adopted. He’d mentioned that she was the key to Nadarog Maragog.
How true was this? She knew enough to be certain that she wasn’t the Adopted. And she had no intention of being Adopted by The Owl if the procedure could very well end in her death.
Emily thought about all these little pieces she’d gotten and knew they were all connected somehow. She just needed more information.
When it was time to go to bed, Emily was already in the coffers of fear. Up in her room, she’d locked the door and switched off the lights. Wrapped in her blanket, curled in a fetal position. As much as she didn’t want to, she listened very hard for any sounds of footsteps downstairs.
She’d left the window open. Her plan was that if the warlock chose this time to execute his plan, she would change into The Owl and swoop out into the night. Even if someone saw her, it was better she face the wrath of the vigilantes than a warlock who probably wanted to jumpstart the apocalypse.
You know, if you would allow me to teach you a few things, you wouldn’t need to be afraid of anyone, The Owl crooned. At least not like this.
“What do you mean?”
I mean, you want to take on the rove, even though it’s suicide. Let me teach you. Let me train you on how to utilize your true nature to its fullest potential.
“You want to train me to be you?” Emily asked, incredulous.
No. I want to train you to be you.
Emily thought about The Owl’s proposition. She really needed to get her act together. What was she going to do when she came face-to-face with the warlock? She needed to know what being The Owl entailed. Also, she needed to be able to control it. It was because of her inability to do just that, that Rina had found out about her.
What other incidences would happen because of her ineptitude? For how long was she going to hide under her bedsheets, praying the warlock didn’t remember her tonight of all nights when she was alone?
There had to be a change. She had to become stronger. And if it meant training to become a better shifter, she would.
“You said you have a name, right?”
Funny you should ask about that again. Perhaps this time you will even listen long enough to find out what it is.
“Tell me,” Emily whined impatiently.
Selena.
“Hmmm,” she breathed. “That’s a nice name, Selena.”
Thanks, Emily.
“I’m ready to train.”
Good. We start tomorrow evening.
The next day, Emily spent most of
the day mindlessly completing her assignments from school. Toward the afternoon, she called Aunt Anastacia to see how Dad was doing and also to ask her to look after him for one more week.
“A week!?” Aunt Anastacia shrieked.
“Yes, Aunt, he’s Mom’s husband, you know.” Emily didn’t bother to hide the irritation in her voice. “I do remember you saying you would look after him anytime I needed help. Now is when I need help. I’m going through a lot at school, and a lot is happening in my life that I need to stay focused on.”
“Yes, I said I’d help out when you need me to, but you’ve always managed, even during exams and tests and school trips,” Aunt Anastacia said. “What’s so different about this time? What’s happening? Maybe I can help.”
Emily’s grip on the phone tightened. She wanted to pour her heart out to Aunt Anastacia even though she knew her aunt was a fraud and had no real power. Nevertheless, she was conscious of the fact that her line may be tapped, and to reveal her true identity over the phone would be foolish. She was also concerned that Aunt Anastacia would make light of her predicament by going into the silly narrative about being a priestess of some heathen goddess.
“Nothing, Aunty,” Emily said. “I just need some time to myself. One week. Please.”
“Okay, no problem.” Aunt Anastacia sighed. “Does he have meds or something?”
Emily cursed softly. She forgot to take his meds with her when she drove him to Aunt Anastacia’s place.
“Um, don’t worry about his meds,” Aunt Anastacia said. “One week without isn’t going to kill him. I’m making him my grandma’s favorite recipe.”
“Say, Aunt, do you remember your father’s vigilante days?” asked Emily.
Aunt Anastacia was silent for a moment.
“You knew he was like Mom, didn’t you?”
“Of course, I did,” she harrumphed. “He inherited The Owl gene while his sister inherited the . . .” Her voice trailed off. But before it did, Emily noticed how emotionally charged it sounded. Something must have happened. This was obviously a painful memory for her.
Of course, something did happen! Selena retorted. She lost her father. At a young age. He was about Mr. Winter’s age when it happened.
“What did his sister inherit?” asked Emily.
“I shouldn’t say,” Aunt Anastacia bellowed.
“Aunt.” Emily’s voice grew husky. “Please.”
“What does this have to do with anything?”
“I promise, when I come this weekend, I’ll tell you.”
“She inherited the witch gene.”
That came as a surprise to Emily. “There’s magic in our family?”
“Mmm-hmm,” replied Aunt Anastacia. “Going back as far as five hundred years. Two genes are passed from generation to generation. The Owl and the witch—or warlock, if you will. It’s the perfect combination for what is called Nadarog Maragog.”
Just like a flash of lightning, everything clicked in Emily’s mind, and Selena squawked in terror.
28
Grandfather had killed himself to stop Nadarog Maragog. He was the key, so he had killed himself. And if he wasn’t alive, he couldn’t be used to kickstart the apocalypse. Thereby he’d stopped it from happening.
But how did that explain killing Mr. Winter’s father? How did that explain the war that Mr. Winter had talked about? How did it explain Black Day? Or were the history books rewritten?
“Say, Aunt, you wouldn’t happen to know about Black Day, would you?”
Aunt Anastacia was silent for an excruciating length of time. “We need to talk.”
The seriousness with which she said that sent chills into Emily’s spine. “Okay. When I come in a week.”
“Look, you’re asking dangerous questions,” Aunt Anastacia continued. There was a powerful force in her voice, something Emily had never heard before. It was something akin to the power in the warlock’s voice when she had that vision. Very akin. It made Emily curious.
Then she began to wonder. Didn’t Aunt Anastacia just say the genes of a witch and an Owl were passed down from generation to generation? If Mom was an Owl, then who was the warlock or witch?
To the best of Emily’s knowledge, Grandpa only had two daughters and a son who died in a car crash as a toddler. Emily wanted to ask, but she knew it would just make Aunt Anastacia antsier.
“Be very careful,” the woman said. “Stay away from anything supernatural.”
This was a first. Usually, Aunt Anastacia pandered in the supernatural. Now, because of Emily’s questions, she wanted her to stay away from the supernatural?
What do you know, Aunt? Emily thought to Aunt Anastacia.
“A lot,” Aunt Anastacia replied. “See you in a week.”
The line went dead, leaving Emily stunned. Did she just hear Emily’s thought?
“Nah . . .”
Emily changed into very tight-fighting clothes and threw on her leather jacket to protect her from the cold wind. She decided she was going to show up unannounced at Joanna’s house. Then she was going to take her friend to town to join in on her training.
Bad idea, Selena said.
Emily ignored The Owl and got into the car.
Joanna lived on the other side of town, away from the noise and bother. They had a family estate that spanned acres of forests. The grounds were constantly patrolled by private security. They were all used to Emily’s face. Still, every time she came, they had to call in to confirm that she was expected. As soon as Joanna’s mom or dad learned that Emily was at the gate, they would ask for her to be shown in and then send for Joanna.
So, Emily and Joanna would have to talk.
Emily just hoped things didn’t get out of hand. She trusted Joanna to be smart; however, she knew Joanna was hurting because Emily hadn’t listened to her.
But was it not for good reason? Emily thought to herself as she crossed the intersection when the traffic light turned green.
The drive to Joanna’s father’s estate took a good twenty minutes. The mansions stood on a slight hill that overlooked the rest of the town. Once before, they’d stood in the attic of the five-story mansion and tried to find Emily’s house in the cluster of residential buildings in the far south of the view. They had failed, of course.
Emily pulled off the highway into a driveway leading to the main gates. There were three or four other gates into the properties. This was the one dedicated to guests.
As soon as Emily got to the gate, a man popped out of the side. He was dressed in full military combat gear with a rifle hanging in his hand. He scrutinized her and her Jetta for a moment before he spoke into his communication device. When he was done, he popped three fingers in the air for her.
Three minutes.
Emily reclined into her seat and waited. Beyond the gates, the road continued until it came to a large fountain. However large the fountain was, it was dwarfed by the monstrous structure that Joanna called home.
Even from this distance, Emily could see a beehive of activities. There were a few exotic cars parked around. Lots of people moving about. A lot of them were maids and people who worked around the house. Some, however, were business types.
Here and there, Emily spotted a guard. There were probably more than twenty guards in and around the house. The thing was, they tried to stay out of sight so they didn’t get in the way.
A small, diminutive figure appeared in the doorway. At first, Emily thought it was a really short maid. But then the figure started for the gate. Before long, Emily saw that it was Joanna, and she didn’t look too happy.
Emily stepped out of her car, a bit hurt they didn’t open the gate for her. Joanna must be really angry with her. Then she stepped up to the gate and waited for her friend to approach. Joanna was dressed in a red sweatshirt and jeans. She wore high heels, which Emily thought was weird. She looked like she was heading out.
Maybe to go rat you out to the vigilante chief, The Owl quipped.
Joanna came up to t
he gate. Emily was about to talk when Joanna said, “Open the gate.”
At first, Emily was confused that Joanna was asking her to open the gate. But then she heard the whine of the mechanism as the gate slid apart a few yards. Joanna walked through, gave Emily a glance, and then climbed into the passenger seat of her car.
Emily stood there, surprised. She glanced at the guard.
The man shrugged. “Don’t look at me. I don’t even understand my ten-year-old daughter. Who am I to understand a teenager?” The gates began to close up.
With a confused shake of her head, Emily returned to the car.
“I’m sorry for walking out on you yesterday,” Joanna announced as she buckled her seat belt.
“No, I’m sorry,” Emily said. “I should have been more tenacious. I shouldn’t have let you walk out.”
There was a silence.
“My dad’s having an event for some of his investors,” Joanna said with a frown. “I tried to get him to have the gates opened for you, but he said no.”
“It’s okay,” Emily said, relieved that Joanna’s anger wasn’t directed at her. “I understand.”
“No, it’s not okay,” Joanna said. “He said something that—that I don’t . . .” Her voice faltered.
“Honestly, Joanna, I don’t care.”
“I know, but I almost told him last night.” Joanna stared at her. “I almost told him about you. I was thinking he’d help.”
Emily’s breath held in her nostrils. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
“Yes, but I almost did,” Joanna reiterated. “If I had told him, he would have had you arrested and killed.”
Emily shouldn’t have found the statement surprising, but she did.
Joanna growled. “He makes me so mad sometimes!”
“Well, let’s be glad you didn’t.”
“Can you forgive me?” Joanna asked. “I’m so sorry. I—”
“Look, Jo, it’s perfectly okay,” Emily said as she started the car. Even though it wasn’t perfectly okay at all. She started reversing. “We need to figure out a way to take down the warlock. I have to be ready to fight him. So I want to go train. I want you with me.”
Adopted by The Owl: The Owl Shifter Chronicles Book One Page 14
