“Well? What do you think?”
My eyes move from the neatly-trimmed lawn I’d just been laying across to the little blue house that Bryce gestures towards with raised brows.
“I love it… whose is it?”
“Yours, of course.”
“Mine?” I repeat, following him up the wooden steps to the door. Two wicker chairs, a tiny table, and a large potted plant decorate the porch as Bryce turns to me.
“Now, like pretty much everything in this town, this house runs on magic. We signed your name on the owner list this morning, so now only you can unlock it. It’s simple, don’t worry. All you have to do is press your hand against the door.”
I nod, putting the books on one of the wicker chairs and pressing my palm against the dark wooden door.
There’s a mechanical click and the door creaks open.
I let out an excited laugh, stepping aside to let Bryce in.
The house is tidy and bright inside, light washing in through the pale curtains. We step into the living room where there’s a brown leather couch, a TV on the wall, a coffee table, and two comfy-looking chairs.
Bryce puts the grimoires on the table and turns towards me, running a hand through his brown hair. “So, we stocked the house up for you to get by a few days, but if you don’t feel like making dinner tonight, there’s a mess hall just downtown there. Honestly, you’re only about a block away. I’ll be there at six if you want to come. I’m just meeting up with some friends.”
I nod politely, unsure if I really feel like being social tonight. Now that Bryce is about to leave and I’m about to be all alone, the reality sinks in. I’m going to have to figure out what to do about meeting with Reed.
Bryce uses his head to motion towards a hall, “The kitchen is that way. Harlow and I left some money earlier, in case you need supplies. I will also set up a training schedule for you to work with Harlow on your magic. If you need anything, there’s a town map and a list of emergency contacts on the fridge. You can press our names on the paper and Harlow and I will know that you need us.”
“Got it,” I say, throwing him a short smile. He stands there awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. I reach for his arm, squeezing it gently. “Hey, thanks for everything, really.”
“Of course,” he shrugs it off like it’s no big deal, “Welcome to camp! We’re glad you’re here.”
As he shuts the front door behind him, I abandon the stack of books and drift down the hallway. Sure enough, a small kitchen opens up to my left. There’s a coffee pot beside the stove, an oven, a small pantry, a fridge and microwave. A table sits against the far dining room wall, painted a cheery yellow.
I go back through the hall until I enter the bedroom. A bed bigger than my old one sits between two night stands. I realize as I open the door to the closet and flick on the light, that I don’t have any extra clothes. It looks like the leaders were prepared though, as a jacket, a few t-shirts, two pairs of jeans, and my dusty old hiking boots sit in the back. I turn the light off and head straight for the bathroom.
It’s the first time I’ve actually seen myself in I don’t know how long, and I’m terrified by my reflection. I’m a ragged mess of unruly hair and caked dirt. Violet bags hang underneath my dark eyes as if I’m more zombie than girl.
I decide to take a shower, watching the blood, leaves, and dirt empty down the drain as I press my head against the tile, letting everything soak away. What will Reed do when he realizes I’m not answering the communicator, or wearing the mic?
A sobering picture of Eli getting tortured clouds my mind.
Hurriedly, I switch off the shower, shivering as I wrap a towel around my cold body. I dress myself in a purple t-shirt and jeans, run a comb through my knotted hair, then make my way to the living room. I plop down on the couch, selecting a grimoire and opening it across my lap.
Surely somewhere in one of these, there’s a communication spell I could cast. There has to be a way I can get a message to Reed, somehow.
I trace each line with my finger, skimming the pages in hopes of finding what I need. When I don’t find anything in the first book, I toss it aside with a groan and reach for another. Two loud raps on the door pull me from my concentration.
“Who’s there?” I jump to my feet, expecting to find Bryce on the other side of the door, but there’s no one there.
Only a small box sits on the welcome mat, taped neatly shut. Confused, I grab it, scanning the streets for any sign of the person that left this. There’s no one. I close the door behind me and race towards the kitchen, sliding a knife across the tape.
My fingers reach inside, tentative to what they might find. They land on something cool and sleek as I pull out the communicator. My communicator—dusty and encrusted with dirt, as if it’d been found in the woods.
My heart freezes. I don’t breathe.
A small, crumpled piece of paper skitters across the counter. My hands tremble as I open the note.
Thought you might need this back.
12 I HAVE TO GET OUT of this house.
Someone in this camp knows who I am and what my purpose is. But who?
I look to the bright green clock on the microwave, which reads 5:45. Reed won’t call until nine; I have roughly three hours.
I take a few calming breaths. The President will know what to do, how to handle this. For now, I need to take Markus’ advice and stay well in the public eye. I have to pretend that things are alright, even if they’re not.
I go to the closet and slip my jacket over my shoulders. The late afternoon thunderstorm is just beginning to rumble in the distance. Judging from the gray skies, the rain isn’t too far off.
I head towards the opening in the road, eyeing a few buildings in the distance. Bryce said the mess hall was just a block away but coming across the busy street from before, I’m not sure which way to go. Luckily, a voice behind me saves the day.
“So, she decided to come, huh?”
“Hey Bryce!” I toss him a sheepish grin, “I’m glad you’re here. I think I’m lost.”
He chuckles, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. “Well, you’re in luck, then. Right this way, ma’am.”
We hurry towards the sidewalk, ducking underneath the various awnings of the building as the rain begins to pour. He finally stops in front of a bright red door and holds it open.
“Kenadee! Bryce!” Delia calls, standing to wave us over.
The mess hall has several brightly colored tables with mismatched chairs around them. I look around for the food line, giving Bryce a confused glance. “Where do we get the food?”
“All you have to do is find your spot at the table, and we’ll explain from there,” Bryce half-yells over the crash of silverware and voices.
“Oh, my goodness, finally! I thought you two got lost!” Delia says, looking impatiently at me and Bryce. The table is crammed with a large group of people around my age, who, as Delia talks, turn and stare at me with the expressions of people who just got caught gossiping.
I cross my arms self-consciously across my chest, giving a tiny nod to the suspicious looking crowd in front of me.
Ignoring the dirty looks, Bryce introduces me. “Hey guys, I’d like you all to meet our newest member. This is Kenadee!”
“Hi,” I say nervously as several sets of eyes stare me down. No one responds, making the situation that much more awkward. Luckily, it only takes a single beat for Delia to step in.
“Kenadee, this is Benson, Kenzie, and Tess.” She gestures towards a boy with chocolate colored hair and sharp cheekbones. He barely looks at me, too busy pretending to be immersed in his meal. Beside him is Kenzie, her long brunette waves flowing loosely down her back. She says nothing, but meets my gaze with a snicker before turning to Benson and whispering something.
Tess, a redhead with freckles spotting her entire face, is the only one that smiles. She scoots over on the bench and pats the seat, “Here, come sit by me!”
Grateful, I quickly go to take it, ducking my head to avoid everyone else’s judgmental gazes. Bryce scoots in next to me, throwing me an apologetic look.
“So, how does this work?” I ask, desperate to change the subject, “You just sit down and food comes?”
“Wait for it…” Delia says, stabbing a piece of broccoli with her fork.
Seconds later, a tiny pop of orange appears in mid-air, transforming into a menu that floats light as a feather into my open hands.
“See? Tap your finger on whatever you want to eat and it’ll appear when it’s done cooking,” she explains.
“Magic. It’s great, right?” Tess adds eagerly.
After perusing the menu, I decide on a big, juicy hamburger, tapping on the picture as I was instructed. It evaporates a moment after my touch, leaving me staring in awe at the table before me.
“So, Kenadee, what’s your story?” Tess inquires biting into a carrot that’s nearly the same color of her hair.
Crap. What do I tell them?
I debate lying. Whatever I do, I need to keep away from the suspicions that they already have about me.
I decide to play dumb. “Uh, what do you mean?”
“You know, how you ended up at our camp? Bryce and Harlow have been really tight-lipped about it! Everyone’s been making up their own versions of why you’re here and how you found us.” She peers slyly over to Bryce, who ignores us, talking animatedly with Benson and Kenzie.
“Well, it’s a really long story…” I shrug it off, tracing my finger across the patterns in the table, “You probably don’t want to h—”
“Ah, here she is! We were wondering where you were!” Bryce catches all of our attention as he gets up to greet someone. I catch a glimpse of sandy blonde hair.
Harlow.
She doesn’t seem to see me, laughing as Bryce says something I can’t quite make out. All I know is that Harlow Creston is the last person I feel like dealing with.
Unfortunately for me, Delia waves to get the blonde’s attention. “Hey! Har, look who’s here!”
The girl’s ice-colored eyes drift towards me, her smile faltering at the sight. Her gaze turns cruel and cold, taking me in like I’m a measly little bug she’s about to smash.
“Hi,” I say in a small voice, giving her a meager wave.
She looks me up and down silently before turning back towards the other leader, “I thought we agreed that she was supposed to be under surveillance, Bryce.”
“Har—” Bryce says, giving her a warning look. “Can we not do this here?” The entire table is quiet as they watch.
“Fine. We’ll talk later,” Harlow says calmly, her voice dangerously low.
The weight of the silence at the table hits hard. She hates me. They all do. How am I supposed to earn their trust when they already dislike me so much? And surveillance? What if I need to meet with the President? How will I warn him if they’re right there listening?
Delia leans in as Bryce and Harlow debate quietly on the other side of the table. “Ignore her. She can be a bit hard to handle at first, but she’ll come around.”
I don’t believe her, but I’m grateful for the attempt to make me feel better.
“Alright, well, if you don’t want to talk about the camp, can I at least ask where you’re from?” Tess licks a spoon clean before dipping it back into some soup, watching me with warm brown eyes, the freckles speckling her cheeks turning up with her smile.
My plate appears, piece by piece, dropping before my eyes. It’s crammed with delicious food I haven’t had in ages. I immediately dig in, practically drooling from the hunger.
“Oh, um, I’m from Denver,” I say, clearing my throat. I have to restrain myself from clearing the entire plate of food before me. I was much hungrier than I thought.
Tess leans in on her elbows, “So, you aren’t too far from home! That’s not the case for me. I’m from Minnesota. I can’t say that I miss it that much, though. It’s too cold.”
I’m too focused in on my food to muster any response but a polite smile.
“Well, we’re glad you’re staying. It’s fun getting new people here. There’s lots of people, but most keep to themselves. Not many young people our ages. I actually don’t know how the leaders handle it. They’re younger than most of the members here, but they got elected as leaders because they basically created this entire camp. Everyone just loves them!”
I almost snort. Harlow? For some reason, she seems pretty hard to love.
“Oh, speaking of which, you are coming to the bonfire, aren’t you?” Delia adds looking at me expectantly.
“What’s that?” I ask, taking a sip of my water.
“What, the gracious host didn’t tell you? It’s this huge event we have a few times a year. Most of the camp shows up. There’s games, rides, prizes—kind of like the carnivals. Do you remember those from when we were kids? I love ‘em!” Tess reminds me of an eager child, exclaiming loudly with excitement.
“You should come,” Bryce agrees, butting back into our conversation. “It’s tomorrow. You can hang with me if you’d like.”
I resist the smile that threatens to rise. It’s been so long since I’ve had friends, people that care enough to invite me to things. Not to mention, this is the perfect opportunity to see people, to take notes on the kinds of people that live here at this camp.
“Yeah, that sounds like fun.” Deep down, my mind stings at the pain I’m bringing down upon these people.
I’m on my way to destroy their lives. How can I just smile and go along?
I guess we all have a bit of a monster in us.
***
I WAKE THE NEXT MORNING to wet drool stains on my pillow and streaks of sun washing in through the closed blinds of my window. I yawn, and as I roll over, a grimoire slides off my stomach and onto the bed. I rub my eyes before swiveling the alarm clock towards me.
2:12 in the afternoon. I definitely overslept.
When I got back from dinner last night, I waited and waited in nervous anticipation for Reed to call. When the clock struck midnight and I realized that Reed was probably fast asleep in his mansion, I nestled under the covers to read a grimoire and tried to calm my racing mind.
I cast aside my covers and pull my sore body into a sitting position. Today, I need to focus on Reed and his mission. Whoever left the communicator at my doorstep needs to see that I’m not afraid. If I act like I’m doing something wrong, I might blow the entire operation. It’d be just what Harlow is looking for. I could only imagine her delight then.
Kicking my legs from the bed, I go straight to the kitchen to make coffee. As the coffee pot begins to rumble, I find a mug the color of the sun and a spoon from the drawer. Somewhere outside a lawn mower roars to life, and I consider how strange this little town is. How safe it feels. This would be my life if there was never a war.
Once the pot is full and steam billows from the top, I mix my coffee with some milk from the fridge, stirring as the metal clang of the spoon meets ceramic. I wash my face with some raspberry-smelling soap from the cabinet and run a comb through my messy hair.
Satisfied, I throw on the first clothes I can find—a maroon t-shirt and some faded blue jeans, and pad barefoot to the porch, coffee in one hand, a map of the town in the other. A group of kids giggles as they race through the streets in front of me as I take a seat in one of the wicker chairs. Technically, I could try and use my magic to transport myself around instead of trying to memorize a map. After all, my powers worked that day Harlow found me in the forest. The “how” part is what I can’t figure out.
I chew on the inside of my lip, a sudden idea coming to me. Looking around to make sure no one is watching, I lift my hand above the map.
Nothing happens.
I swallow in frustration, trying again. Not that I expect anything grand to happen—I don’t even know the spell that I’m trying to make work—I just want to see if my powers will come back. That day in the forest they were so strong, so terr
ifying. It’s like they controlled me. Is that what magic is really like, or was it the heat of the moment, the fear I felt so deeply?
“Trying your powers, are you? Don’t worry, magic is finicky. The more you practice the better it’ll be.” My head pops up to find an elegant woman with golden-brown skin and a presidential smile steps onto the porch. She’s dressed in a white sundress and sandals, one hand on her pregnant stomach and the other clutching a plate of cookies. “I’m Nadine, your next-door neighbor. I thought I’d stop by, introduce myself, and bring you some goodies.”
“I’m Kenadee,” I say sheepishly, taking the cookies. “Thank you for this! Would you like to come in?”
“Oh no, honey, I’d better not. I’m part of the town’s advisory board and the leaders called together a last-minute meeting. Can’t be late!”
“Oh?” I ask, trying to act much less curious than I actually feel. Maybe Nadine is the key to finding out new information for Reed.
“Yeah. Reed’s apparently up to something again.” She rolls her eyes to emphasize how annoying she finds this fact.
I feel my breath hitch in my throat. This meeting couldn’t be about me, could it? Is Harlow finally convincing people that I’m up to something?
Nadine sighs deeply, turning to go, “But what can you do, right? Anyway, do you need anything before I go? It’s probably pretty confusing around here without magic.”
“Actually, yeah…” I admit, “Where can I find the leaders? Bryce said something yesterday about a schedule and job hunting.”
“Their offices are at the town hall. Here,” she holds out her hand for the map, which I surrender. She chants something foreign under her breath, and a bright red pin pops up on the top of a building. She hands it back to me with a smile, “There. The spell will show you the way. The meeting should only last half an hour and then they should be back.”
I thank her again with a genuine smile as Nadine pulls a transportation device similar to Bryce’s from her bag. In a flash, she’s gone.
The Traitor's Crux (The Dark Powers Book 1) Page 6
