by Jamie Magee
“You think you’re cute don’t you.”
“I’m fucking adorable,” Star said with a giggle.
“Later. Watch the kid. Witchling, too.”
Star nodded once and went back to staring into the distance.
Just as Reveca sat astride her bike that wave of sex-filled energy moved over her once again. The second she was sure she could speak and not let her voice reveal the effect, she looked over her shoulder at King who was only a few feet away.
“You want to stop fucking teasing me?”
He bit his lip and moved his head slowly side to side.
“This how you’re getting your kicks now? Need some attention?”
“Doesn’t work that way, sweet. You feel what your soul wants. I was just saying hi.”
Reveca’s mouth opened slightly.
“What’s the matter, sweet? What are you feeling when our energy meets?”
Instead of answering, she roared her bike to life and did her best to ignore the boyish grin that spread across his face as she ran from him.
She added that last remark of his to the list of things she needed to look up on this break in—what kind of power Escorts are known to have.
The locator spell Star joked around about was a possibility, one Talon had told Reveca she should try. If it didn’t work, she was going to seek out those who had had the book in their clutches.
That would be even harder, or at least involve more leg work. Judge and Thames had categorized and documented everything they saw in the minds of the men they took down that night at Gaither. Knight had found most of the faces they saw in the lawmen’s database, which meant there were at the very least actual prints somewhere. If Reveca had anything that had their essence on it she could call them to her.
The deal was, though, those were the thugs. They wanted Mr. Black, they wanted the brains behind this, the roots. If they didn’t stop him, then this whole mess would just emerge again down the road a ways.
Reveca prowled around Saige’s neighborhood, keeping her distance until she was sure that Saige was nowhere near her, then she parked her bike behind the fence in the brush of her property.
Breaking into the iron gate at the back was easy; the backdoor, more of the same. To anyone watching it would look as if Reveca had the key cupped in her hand. Her key, though, was the words she whispered, the spell that opened the barriers. Reveca knew every spell her sister used to protect her property; most of them were created and reinforced by Reveca herself.
She made her way through the kitchen and up the hall. Under the stairs there was a bedroom, or at least it had a bed in it; there were no windows, no light. The set up as a guest room hid what it really was—a cover to a hidden library.
Reveca moved a full-length mirror that was just beside the bed, and found her passage. It was a narrow hall that led to five steps, that then lead down into a dark room. Before Reveca stepped into it she whispered words that would not alert Saige that the energy barrier around this room was broken, then she was in.
The ceiling only reached six feet, but from ceiling to floor there were ancient books on every wall, walls that extended the length of Saige’s home which was just at seven thousand square feet. Other shelves were scattered throughout the wide space, each sealed with a spell that didn’t let air or the modern world damaged them; a witch’s version of a glass case.
Reveca felt the history assault her as she glanced around, then began to turn on a few low light lamps. She could remember the coven moving these artifacts, how it was vital for them to ensure that these records stayed with the coven. They took everything of any value and sealed it in the bottom level of Reveca’s family’s home. The twenty-two members sat on the floor just above all their precious belongings and cast the spell of an eternity, one that allowed them to move the house—and all within it—to a new world.
Once they arrived, every one of them, with the exception of Reveca and Jamison, collapsed. Reveca helped Jamison keep the others alive, made sure they had water and were protected until their energy was restored. That was as far as she went with her compassion, though.
She was wrought with grief and anger. Reveca had been freed from her Edge, given leave to come and go as she pleased, but her home was gone and she was sure that if she could not walk through that same nature that she had with Kenson, that his memory would fade and she’d forget him.
That was the only time in her existence that she begged death to come for her.
She cried a lot. Would run to the woods and wail, curse the stars. Each time she did Jamison would come for her, hold her as she wept, let her beat his chest with her fury, and when exhaustion came he’d carry her home to Saige who gently cleaned the mud and tears away from Reveca’s body as Reveca’s mind pulled her in, let her live in a waking dream for a moment.
Reveca’s mind didn’t have a chance to linger on the past too long.
She was sure she was not alone in that library.
It wasn’t Saige, and whoever it was they were not a threat, but still.
She moved around the aisle that was just before the stairs and looked down. There she saw a girl of twenty, maybe a bit older. She had short combat boots on, lace stockings, cut off shorts, and overgrown tank. Her hair was long and blonde but the tips were jet black. Rings adorned her fingers and endless bracelets were on her wrist, all with protective symbols. Headphones, which were blaring music, were in her ears. Her eyes were closed and her hands were on the book before her.
Reveca had seen this girl before, from a distance, had somewhat watched her grow up. Jamison’s woman, Emery, had twin girls and this was one of them.
There were three books that Reveca was after on this trip. One had the prophecy of the Rapture. It listed all the current sovereigns and the ones due to rise—not by name and stature, but by life path. The text was heavy with symbolism, sometimes even lyrical, but if you knew enough of the story, you could link it. Reveca knew enough of Cashton’s story to link him to that text.
The other was the book that spoke about Escorts, those in power, their history, everything that was known of these mythical souls.
The third was the book of history recorded of when Evanthe’s father performed the spell that sent him into the pages. This was the history Reveca needed to know clearly if she were to have any hope of restoring her once this war was done.
The girl was reading the first. She was reading all about the Rapture—or was. Reveca wasn’t sure what she was doing now.
All at once the girl pulled her headphones out and looked up at Reveca then held her chest as if she had been frightened.
“You’re not aunt Saige,” she said with what sounded like relief.
Reveca furrowed her brow at the formal title she had given Saige. Then again it made sense. This girl had been told Saige was Jamison’s sister and had never known life without either of them.
Reveca had never been this close to the girls Jamison watched over, and now that she was before one of them, she was sure she was staring at a natural witch.
“You’re not either,” Reveca said.
A look of guilt came over the girl but it was fleeting, and a defensive nature came to her as Reveca sat down next to her and crossed her legs.
“Look, I know I can only take one at a time. I’m not taking this with me, just reading here.”
“You took a book out of this library?” Reveca asked a bit sharply. A book falling into the wrong hands was how those fools behind Black started this hell. Reading words they had no business touching had started all of this shit.
“Yeah…”
Reveca lifted her brow in shock, doubting that Saige needed to be the one watching over these relics if the girls were mistaking it for some public library.
Reveca lifted her chin. “Lose any?”
“Whatever. I’m the one who found them all.”
“All of them?” Reveca said in a tone that called the statement bullshit.
“Maybe not all, but the on
es that were lost I helped find.”
Reveca gave her one nod, believing her. She knew the coven had recovered several books that had been taken a few years back, stolen from other coven members’ homes. To keep them all safe now they were all in one collection again—well, almost all.
The first time that Reveca had heard Newberry’s name was when the taken books were recovered. There was no doubt that this girl had the natural talent. Reveca could see in her that she was a part of that siege.
“What’s your name?”
“River.”
Reveca nearly grinned but mostly she just stared.
“What, you’re not going to tell me yours?”
Reveca let a sinful smile come to her lips. “Beauregard.”
River looked over Reveca once and nodded.
“Heard of me?”
Now River was the one with a smirk. “No, but I know you’re an original.”
“Do you, now?”
“Yeah, you guys kinda stand out. Your energy is commanding, aged. That and you got in here. Only originals can now. I saw the spells put in place.”
“You’re in here, River.”
A sly smile came to her. “My aunt likes to feed my curiosity, thinks it’s best for me to strengthen my skills.”
“As a witch?”
“As a translator.”
“Do tell.”
River shrugged. “I have this deal,” River said. “I don’t see words when I read, I see the scene.”
“Any good author could make you do that.”
River bit her lip so she wouldn’t smile. “No, I mean see it like a vision. Any text, any culture, I see the story the poets of the past laid down.”
“Poets?”
“Symbolism is rich. They lived in a different world than we do. Our modern minds twist their words, tangle the mystery deeper.”
There was something about this girl Reveca liked, trusted almost instantly. It was more than their coven link—it was the passion in her eyes when she spoke of her gift. It was clear to Reveca that she equally feared and respected her natural abilities. “But it’s not a mystery for you?”
River grimaced. “No, it is. People wrote these texts and when they did, their opinions were laid down within the words—looking past that to find a truth, my visions help with that.”
“What book have you taken from here?” Reveca asked, wondering if that answer would solve one of her problems.
River looked down and sighed, refusing to answer.
Reveca’s gaze slowly moved over her. “Spells, ones that allow you to summon souls to you, that speaks of immortality?” Reveca assumed that was the one that Mr. Black and company had, the one Evanthe was trapped within.
River looked up at Reveca like she was crazy. “For an original you’re out of the loop. That one is still missing.”
“Which one do you have?”
“Look, I know how to keep it safe. The spells I have laid on it Jamison helped me put in place; he gave me permission to understand it, study it. Made it to where I could take it to my dorm so I could do that alone. He said to study the others I had to read them here unless he was with the books as well.”
“Hiding something?”
“Jamison? Are you serious? He’s not long winded, likes for you to understand things on your own, says that way you’ll never forget the lesson. I can study all I want but I have to do it here.”
Reveca furrowed her brow. “What book do you have?”
“Escorts,” River said with a rock steady expression, clearly judging Reveca’s reaction. “Look, I get it. You’re an original and they frighten you. They’re not all bad. I’m just trying to help a friend out—at the very least help them get over something.”
Reveca couldn’t explain what her emotions were going through just then. This girl had just added herself to the list of the people who screamed what Reveca had declared fiction as fact. That scared her, brought grief to light. That truth meant that King was marked to be completely destroyed by a new sovereign, presumably Cashton.
Jealously was coiling in Reveca’s soul right alongside fear. She had to wonder how the beautiful natural witch became so entranced by such souls, if somehow King, in his dark Godly life, had crossed this coven once again and fell for another young, eager witch.
If that were true, she wasn’t sure if she should be flattered or hurt. Flattered that King blindly fell for a likeness of her, or hurt that being that close to their beginning was not strong enough to make him remember who he was before this God took him from her.
Either way it didn’t really matter. What mattered was discovering the truth of who he was today, and understanding what course had to be taken; delivering him from destruction or watching him be destroyed.
Reveca still wasn’t convinced of this old faith, but she was to the point where she knew entertaining the theory may be the only way to get the answers she was seeking.
“A friend,” Reveca said with a lifted brow. “You sure that friend is not you? Maybe you lost an Escort before you wanted to? If so, that surely sucked. I heard they are very seductive.”
The blush that came to River’s skin—the way she adjusted how she was sitting told Reveca she was not far from the truth with that guess. Whoever this Escort was, the thought of him turned this girl on something fierce.
Reveca kept her jealously at bay, told herself it didn’t matter, and it didn’t. King was blind to her and she had long moved on. There was more than one female in his past, no sense in getting twisted when looking at one face to face.
Easier said than done.
Reveca leaned forward. “How right am I?”
“Half,” River admitted.
“Which half?”
River lifted her chin. “You’re full of questions.”
Reveca lifted one brow. “I’m a curious soul.”
“Well, so am I, and most originals won’t answer my questions.”
“You want to barter. An answer for your story.”
“I told you I’m a translator of prophecies left behind. I know there are no answers until fate has walked its path…I want a confirmation.”
“Of what?”
“That a place exists, that two souls did.”
“And what will this confirmation yield you?”
River stared for a moment, choosing her words. “Several things. At the very least it will set the bar for the level of emotion I will demand one day. It will prove there is everlasting supremacy in that emotion that may lie dormant but never die. In fact, it will rise again and bring a salvation when all hope is lost.”
Reveca lifted her chin. “What confirmation do you seek?”
“Were you there—”
“When?”
“When Saige lost her daughter.”
“She told you about her?”
“No, but you just told me she existed.”
Reveca narrowed her eyes, focusing on this clever little witchling. “That’s what you want to know about?”
River moved her head slowly side to side, a knowing glint in her stare. “No, I’m pretty clear on the shadowed souls element of the supernatural world. I just know if you were there then you had to be around when the greatest and most tragic love story occurred.”
“You want to know about Saige’s lover?”
River’s eyes went wide.
“Didn’t read about that one,” Reveca guessed, completely lost on where this girl was going, wanting to get her confirmation out of the way so she could get the story she was after. The one Knight had yet to uncover. These young witches went through something, and clearly it involved King.
“I did but—lover? What I read about them was more of a classic love affair. The word lover makes me think of passion.”
Reveca tilted her head in agreement.
“The Queen of the Edge, were you there? Did you see it?”
Reveca felt her entire body tense.
“I get that look every time I ask.” River said with
smug grin.
“What look?”
“Like it’s best not to discuss, but it’s beautiful.”
“What about that story do you find beautiful?” It was all she could do to keep the snap out of her tone.
“Are you serious? It’s the love of legends.” River sat her book down and went to her knees. “A witch coming into her own, the craft bending to her grace. A warrior that fought to protect not only her but her coven. They were to be coupled—they were to rule.
“She found him dying on the battlefield, a power claiming his soul. And their grief, anger, and desperation, their love for each other—how they both fought to stay as one—was so great, so powerful that death hesitated, life heisted, and in that pause an Edge was born, a pause between the transition from one to the other.”
“That’s how you read it? They fought?”
“Yes, they. He was a witch too, understood the power just as reverently. That was not only written, but what I saw.”
“What did you see exactly?”
“I mean I didn’t see them—I wish—but when I read it, it was like standing in the distance and watching. I saw their energy, his fighting equally with hers, if not more so. What I saw was death claim her too, pull her into the darkness. He stopped fighting the power that was pulling him and shielded her, put a space between death and her, but she was already too far from life. Because he defended her he lost his fight with the power that was seeking him, and she remained shielded in the Edge where no death could claim her.”
“Or life,” Reveca bit out. “She was in a prison.”
There was a pain in Reveca’s chest just then. This girl was making her see her past through new eyes. All this time she was furious at Kenson for letting go, furious that she fought and he didn’t—that she was punished because she did.
Now she didn’t know what the hell to think. All she knew was she still felt robbed.
River’s gaze lost its admiring glint and filled with curiosity, maybe even an understanding. “You were there. You did see it.”
Reveca nodded once sharply. “It wasn’t beautiful, River. It was tragic.”
