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All Hallows Eve

Page 3

by Chelsea Luna


  “No,” Ethan said. “But they’re probably behind the door he’s guarding.”

  “Are we sure James is in there?”

  “I’d bet my magic on it.”

  “That’s good enough for me,” I said.

  A muffled scream from deep inside the house answered my question.

  James.

  My breathing came in quick shallow bursts. As I hyperventilated, the glass on the bay window trembled above us. “They’re torturing him! We have to get inside.”

  Ethan squeezed my arm. “Take a deep breath. Relax.”

  I exhaled and the window stopped rattling.

  “I’m going to make sure there isn’t another way inside that room. Stay here. Don’t move.” Ethan crawled around the side of the house.

  I closed my eyes. The memory of James’ scream replayed over and over again. What were they doing to him? My stomach tightened into knots while my imagination ran wild with all sorts of horrible thoughts.

  We had to get inside. Now.

  “I think the door he’s guarding leads to the basement. Alexandria?”

  I opened my eyes.

  Ethan looked concerned. “Are you okay?”

  I wiped the sweat off my forehead. My skin felt clammy. I was shaky and not entirely in control, but it didn’t matter. I had to focus. We had to find a way into the basement to save James.

  “Did you hear me?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, the basement. It’s always the basement.”

  “I’ll pick the lock. Once we get in the house, can you levitate the gun away from the guard?”

  “Wait. Won’t he hear you pick the lock?”

  “The waves are loud, but do you want to create a diversion, just in case?”

  I replayed James’ cry for help in my mind. Furious lightning streaked across the midnight sky. Rage rushed through my body like a tidal wave. Rain fell in thick heavy sheets. Thunder rumbled and shook the house on its foundation.

  “Nice work.” Ethan turned to the door.

  Instead of using a paperclip or a credit card like James and Peter had, Ethan placed his palm over the lock and picked it witch-style. He mumbled a few words and the steel lock vibrated until it shattered to pieces.

  I peeked into the window. The man had the AK-47 lazily straddled across his lap. I was right – it was a pretty serious gun. He watched the torrential downpour from the front window, but he didn’t hear Ethan.

  Ethan pushed open the door and motioned for me to follow.

  I tugged at his jacket. “Make sure there isn’t an Il Gaurdenarium spell.”

  “NOOOOO!” James screamed from deep inside the house.

  Ethan forced his hand through the plane of the door without any resistance. We tiptoed into the laundry room. I slid in front of Ethan and bolted across the open door. Ethan crouched next to the frame and nodded.

  I leaned around the corner and swiped the air with a quick arc.

  The AK-47 flew out of the man’s lap. It skidded across the floor and crashed against the wall. The man shot out of his chair to retrieve the gun. Ethan silently ran up behind him and slipped his arm around the man’s neck. His cries were immediately choked off. My father lifted the man off the ground. His limbs flayed helplessly in the air, until they finally went limp.

  Ethan lowered the man to the floor. I ran to the basement door and twisted the knob. Locked. Muffled voices rose from downstairs.

  “There’s probably at least four or five Gamma members downstairs,” Ethan said. “Watch out for bullets - you can levitate them away from you, but you have to move quickly.” Ethan placed his palm over the knob and shattered the lock. He pushed the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

  “Hurry!”

  “Blast it.”

  A burst of green spewed from my palm. The fireball blasted the heavy wooden door off its hinges, along with the thick slab of wood propped behind it.

  We raced down the stairs, but just as we reached the bottom, two men appeared. I didn’t recognize either of them, but it didn’t matter. I screamed, “Vieomorphis!”

  The men blew backward into the wall. I ran past them and turned the corner. The windowless basement was utilitarian concrete. It had a sterile, medical feel that immediately sickened me. I definitely had a reason to feel sick – strapped across a wooden table in the middle of the room was a battered bloody body.

  “James?”

  He didn’t react to the sound of my voice.

  He didn’t move.

  CHAPTER 3

  Three things were immediately apparent.

  First, my stepfather stood over James’ body. Victor’s hands, his fat knuckles in particular, were caked with blood. A glowing red branding iron dangled from his hand. It was the same tool farmers used to brand their cattle. However, this branding iron was shaped in the Greek letter for Gamma.

  Second, there was still no movement from James. His face was bruised and bloodied. His bottom lip split down the middle and a giant Gamma symbol branded his bare chest. The scarred skin was pink and puffy.

  Third, the two men that I’d blasted upon entering were getting to their feet.

  Ethan was calm and collected beside me. It looked like the most frightening sight in the world. Butterscotch eyes zeroed in on Victor.

  I took a cautious step forward. “How could you?”

  A flash of fear registered in Victor’s eyes. The branding iron fell from his hand and clattered against the cement floor.

  Still no movement from James.

  “I had no choice.” Victor raised his hands in surrender. “They were going to kill me.”

  “You’re torturing your nephew!”

  “It’s punishment for his betrayal. A beating, a brand to cleanse his soul and then death. They’re not my orders. It’s out of my hands.” Victor pointed to the camera sitting on a tripod. The light blinked red.

  I squeezed my fist and the lens shattered.

  Victor swallowed.

  “Victor Van Curen,” Ethan whispered.

  My stepfather reluctantly pulled his eyes away from me. They flickered to Ethan. Victor pressed his palms into his eyes. He blinked again as if he’d seen a ghost, which in this case, he had. His face paled. “Ethan Longfellow?”

  He didn’t have much time to process the news. I blew Victor away from James. He smashed against the concrete wall on the other side of the room. Ethan ran after him.

  The two men were climbing to their feet, but I couldn’t worry about them now. All of my rage and anger had subsided; only to be replaced by insane fear.

  James’ eyes were closed. His face was calm like he was sleeping. I checked his neck for a pulse. The warm stickiness of his blood almost made me vomit.

  “James?”

  My tears spilled over and splashed on his face. A faint heartbeat thumped beneath my fingers.

  “James?” I whispered into his ear. “Can you hear me? It’s Alex.”

  His lids fluttered, but he didn’t open his eyes.

  “James, hold on. I’m getting you out of here.”

  “Alex,” James said.

  “Dad! We have to get James out -”

  Something whistled by my ear. I looked behind me. A small hole punctured the concrete wall. A bullet hole. I whirled around. The two men were on their feet. One held the smoking handgun.

  I fluttered my fingers. The gun levitated out of the man’s hand and into the air. His eyes widened until they almost popped out of his head.

  “You’re not playing fair.” I snatch the gun and threw it behind me. “Dad, we have to get James out of here!”

  They were fighting on the floor. Ethan straddled Victor and wailed on him UFC-style. “Did you punch Emma? Did you give her a black eye?” Ethan’s fist connected with Victor’s nose.

  Victor mumbled something. His face was a bloody mess.

  Ethan threw another punch.

  One of the men ran upstairs. He disappeared around the corner before I could do anything. The other man looked from me to the st
airway where his friend had just escaped. He stood frozen.

  “Sit down.” I pointed to the floor.

  His mouth opened.

  “Now!” I blasted a fireball over his head. The deadly energy ball detonated the concrete behind him. Pieces of rock crumbled to his feet. “Getting shot at isn’t a nice feeling? Is it?”

  He lowered to the floor.

  “Lay on your stomach and spread your hands above your head. Now.”

  He did as he was told.

  “If you move a muscle, I’ll blast you.” I turned to Ethan, who was now by my side. “We have to go.”

  “I can walk.” James’ eyes were barely open.

  “I don’t think so.” Ethan slid an arm under James.

  I couldn’t pull my eyes away from the gruesome brand across his chest. The symbol would be seared into his skin forever. I ran around the table to help Ethan lift James. Maybe it would be better to levitate him?

  The moment I turned my back, the man lying on the floor sprinted to the staircase. I couldn’t chase after him, we had to get James out of here.

  “Can you carry him to the car?” I asked Ethan.

  “I think so. Maybe we should -” Ethan’s eyes shifted over my left shoulder and I knew something was terribly wrong. The butterscotch in Ethan’s eyes receded as his pupils dilated to a midnight black.

  It all happened in slow motion. Funny when life changing events happen, you can perfectly recall every detail.

  The rage in Victor’s bloodied face. The way Victor raised the handgun that I’d so carelessly discarded. The complete look of terror on Ethan’s face. The sound of James’ body dropping back onto the table as Ethan freed his hands to defend us.

  “Don’t do it, Victor.” Ethan stepped away from the table. Slow calculated movements. He raised his palm at Victor. The concentration was plain as day on my father’s face.

  “If I don’t finish him,” Victor said. “They will hunt me down and kill me.” He pulled back the hammer on the handgun. His hands trembled, but he couldn’t miss James - not from this distance.

  “Victor, what are you doing?” I shielded James with my body. “Put the gun down.”

  “I won’t let you squeeze that trigger,” Ethan said.

  Victor shifted the barrel of the gun to Ethan. “You can’t stop me, Longfellow.”

  I stood completely dumbfounded. Horror stricken. I couldn’t blast Victor without him squeezing the trigger. My hands were glued to my side. He’d fire if I moved an inch.

  “Victor, don’t do this,” I pleaded.

  My father. My stepfather.

  Hunter and witch. Two parts of my life at odds with each other. Unable to live in the same sphere of my life.

  Then it happened.

  Victor squeezed the trigger on the nine millimeter. Ethan fired a yellow fireball from his palm.

  I screamed in horror as they both collapsed to the ground at the same time.

  CHAPTER 4

  “Dad!” I threw myself to the floor.

  Ethan sucked in quick gulps of air.

  “Where were you shot?”

  He breathed in deeply, like he couldn’t catch his breath.

  “Where did he shoot you?”

  “The bullet grazed my arm, I’m okay. I just used too much magic.” Ethan’s face was sweaty. “I need a few minutes to recover.”

  His right shoulder was bleeding, but not significantly. Even I could tell it was a flesh wound. Across the room, Victor’s chest rose and fell in a jerky rhythm. I crawled over to my stepfather.

  Victor’s face was a bloody mess. His nose was broken. His lip was swollen. He sucked in gulps of air and his breathing sounded…wet.

  Ethan’s yellow fireball created a hole in Victor’s lower stomach, just left of his belly button. The white dress shirt singed around the wound. My father’s magic wasn’t as strong as mine, so the impact didn’t kill Victor instantly, but it was clear that he only had a few seconds left. I unclenched the gun from his hand and flung it safely out of reach.

  “I always knew you’d be the death of me.” Victor’s words gurgled in his throat.

  Despite the list of atrocities that he’d committed against me and my family, I didn’t want to see Victor suffer. I held his hand. He didn’t reciprocate the gesture. His hand laid limp in mine. Maybe he didn’t have any strength left. Or maybe, even in the end, he still couldn’t get past his hatred for me.

  “Tell your mother I loved her.” His head rolled to the side.

  And with that last breath, Victor died on the basement floor.

  * * *

  Taking James to the hospital was out of the question. How would we explain what happened? Yes, doctor, his former faction of witch hunters almost beat him to death. No, you aren’t imagining things - that is a brand on his chest.

  Nope, the hospital was definitely out of the question and we no longer had a house. The front was blasted open thanks to Gamma’s handiwork. (I still didn’t know the details of how they demolished half of the house.)

  So we went back to Hazel Cove. To James’ house in the Hallows. We drove past my former house on Apple Orchard and, this time, I looked. A bright for-sale sign stuck out of a thick carpet of dead leaves in the front lawn. The large oaks were bare. It looked deserted. And with the knowledge of Victor’s death fresh in my mind, it broke my heart. I closed my eyes until we pulled into James’ driveway.

  I unlocked the front door with the spare key hidden under the doormat. James and I had been here countless times since he officially moved out, but no one had actually lived here since April. Dust and staleness filled the air.

  “Can you put him over there?” I pointed to the living room on my right.

  Ethan helped James through the front door and guided him to the sectional couch. James was semi-coherent. His pulse was steady, but he’d taken a pretty brutal beating. Maybe we should’ve taken him to the hospital.

  I searched the house for supplies - a blanket, water and towels from the kitchen. A first aid kit was stored in the downstairs bathroom.

  “Can we use magic to heal him?” I kneeled in front of the couch.

  Ethan bit his lip. It was a family trait. “I don’t know.”

  “After Vanessa whipped me, I had dozens of lashes all over my body. Liam said a spell and they vanished. Could we find something to get rid of the brand?”

  James peeked down at his bare chest and groaned. He unleashed a string of profanities that was more Peter-like than I’d care to admit.

  “We’ll look for a spell,” Ethan said. “Let’s clean him up. James, does it feel like anything’s broken?”

  James winced. “Maybe a rib. I’m not sure. My head is pounding and my chest is on fire. But everything else seems to be okay. I think.”

  I touched his arm. His skin was ice cold. I glanced over at the giant stone fireplace that was big enough to sit in. Flames erupted in the hearth, despite the fact that there weren’t any logs. The room instantly grew warmer.

  “Maybe we should contact Dr. Cooper?” Ethan said. “I can hide in the back room.”

  Since my father’s awakening from his coma, he had been hiding from most of the town. Seventeen years had passed and he didn’t look exactly the same, but he wore a baseball hat and sunglasses whenever he was in public. We told Mrs. LaViollette and Anne Marie (we told Anne Marie the truth; Mrs. LaViollette received the watered down magic-less version), but they were the only ones who knew Ethan was alive.

  But a new guy in Hazel Cove, especially attached to the former Mrs. Emma Ramsey, definitely caused some whisperings around town. It wouldn’t be long before we had to figure out how we were going to explain Ethan.

  “No, don’t call Dr. Cooper.” James lightly touched the Gamma brand on his chest. “It would raise too many questions.”

  I pressed a damp washcloth against James’ swollen lip. “I’m sorry they did this to you.”

  “It’s not your fault,” James said. “My uncle was the ring leader.”

&nb
sp; Ethan abruptly stood up. He paced back and forth over the worn rug in front of the fireplace. “I’m sorry to both of you. I am. He was your uncle and your stepfather. I… he was firing and I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to lose you or James -”

  “Mr. Longfellow, Victor was going to kill us,” James said. “You did the right thing.”

  I pulled out the gauze and cotton balls. I didn’t want to look at Ethan. I didn’t want to cry in front of him “I’m sorry that I wasn’t much help. I should’ve done more. Something.” The moment Ethan hit the ground, I thought that I’d lost him. Again. And that was something I couldn’t think about.

  “You both saved my life,” James said.

  I leaned forward, very carefully, and kissed James’ forehead.

  “I have to be branded and beaten to get a kiss from you?” James’ half smile turned into a grin. Dimples punctured his cheeks. “I wish I’d known that a year ago.”

  I smiled, despite the tears rolling down my face.

  “Don’t cry,” James said.

  “I’m sorry, I’m just happy. I thought we lost you.”

  James shifted his shoulders. “I wasn’t worried.”

  “No?”

  “Nope, I knew you’d come. I knew you’d move Heaven and Hell to rescue me.”

  “You have more faith in me than you should.”

  “You came, didn’t you?” Fear flashed across James’ face. “Oh, my God. Emma. What happened to Emma?”

  “She’s fine. She has a few bruises. Peter’s at the hospital with her.”

  “Thank goodness.” James leaned back. “I don’t know how Gamma did it. They blasted the entire house. I was in the sunroom when I heard the explosion.” He shook his head. “There were too many of them. I can’t believe they destroyed the house just to get to me.”

  I’d forgotten that small fact. I was too worried about James at the time to process anything else. We were officially homeless. Where would we live until we found a new house? The LaViollettes? Grandma Longfellow’s house in Ipswich?

  James tried to sit up.

 

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