by H G Lynch
“You’re following me already? I mean, I know I’m awesome but it’s a little soon to be stalking me.” She threw the joke down forcibly, trying to smile playfully. He laughed up at her and swung onto the first branch. So much for her thinking in private.
“Hey, I’ve been following you since I was seven. Just took a four year hiatus is all,” Owen tossed back with a familiar easy smile. She hadn’t seen that smile since she was eleven, before he’d gotten involved with Scott Halen. It was different from the politely warm grin he gave to everyone else; it was a smile that belonged to Ember in a way. She didn’t like it anymore.
“Really?” she said flatly. “Well, closer to five years now, seeing as you’d pretty much turned your back on me a year before I walked away. Remember? I didn’t turn on you for nothing, Owen.” She made her voice firm, letting him know that if he was here for forgiveness, he was going to have to prove his worth. He didn’t reply until he was sitting on the end of her branch, staring at her with those wide, amethyst eyes. The wind ruffled his black hair, unhooking it from behind his ears to swirl carelessly around his face.
“I know. You were right to walk away from me,” he said quietly, looking ashamed. He didn’t quite meet her gaze. “And I know you’re wondering why I’m here. Probably unsure if I know why your mum brought me?” He glanced down at the ground far below, frowning. “Well, I do know why she brought me. But that isn’t why I came. I mean, we’re practically strangers now, but your mum’s been filling me in. But then, I probably know more than she does right now, don’t I?” Owen looked serious all of a sudden, and she wasn’t sure whether to be scared or amused. There was something knowing in his eyes that she didn’t like.
“What makes you think that?” Ember asked, unnerved. He just smiled thinly at her. Bristling, she said, “Answer some questions for me then. What’s my favourite colour?” Fine, if he wanted to play know-it-all, she’d test him. In a strange way, it was like being with him in her dreams again; playing mind games that made no real sense.
“Blue. Always has been,” he answered immediately, flashed a grin.
Ember frowned. “That one was easy. My favourite hobby? What I spend most of my free time doing?”
He didn’t even hesitate to think. Unblinking, he said, “Trick question. Horse-riding is your favourite hobby. But you used to spend most of your free time reading. Now, you don’t have time to focus much on one thing.” Owen gave her a look that was far too knowing for her taste. His answer was too precise, too current for even her mum to have briefed him on. But that wasn’t going to convince her, despite how freaky it was.
“What subjects am I taking in school? What’s my favourite band? And…what book am I currently reading?” She’d only started reading Dickens’ Great Expectations, a few days ago – she’d needed something to do in the short periods of time when she was awake, after the witches’ attack. There was no way he could possibly know that.
“You’re doing Biology, Chemistry, Maths, English and Art. You don’t have a single favourite band but you love My Chemical Romance, and you like Nickelback. And you’re currently reading Great Expectations.”
Well, he got points for insane accuracy that simply wasn’t possible. “Okay,” she said, trying not to show how creeped out she was. Shivers prickled her spine. “So…” Ember paused, frowning. Now, she was truly freaked the hell out. There was just no way he could’ve known that! Unless…
Oh, ha, ha. He was screwing with her.
She eyed him, not amused. “Sherry filled you in. You knew I’d question you,” she said smugly, shaking off the creeping feeling that had come over her. Of course, Sherry would’ve happily told him whatever he wanted to know and thought nothing of it. She was a little too trusting sometimes. For all she knew, Owen could’ve been a serial killer or something.
Owen flashed a mysterious smile and murmured, “Nope. I just know more than you think I do.”
Ember recoiled like he’d slapped her. She couldn’t help it. Those were almost the exact words he’d said to her in her last dream of him. That couldn’t be a coincidence…could it? His expression, that face she’d seen in every expression from joyful to tearful to hateful, was serious as stone, his eyebrows lifted expectantly. It made the hairs on the back of her neck rise, gave her a tight nervous feeling in her chest. What else did he know? How could someone she had not seen in four years know so much about her?
“You’re freaked out,” he said sympathetically. She thought that was an understatement. “I can’t blame you. You know, I considered and re-considered telling you this over and over on the way here. I wasn’t sure whether I ought to drop it on you right away or ease you into it or what, but you’re strong. So I decided I owe you the truth from the start…” Okay, maybe this was all a dream after all? He was sounding just like he did in her dreams: crazy.
Ember swallowed. “What the bloody blue hell are you talking about Owen? Stop messing about and tell me why you tagged along with my mother. What kind of game are you playing?” she snapped. She’d lost her patience, mainly because she was scared. Having dream-Owen muttering nonsense at her was one thing, but here in the real world, ten feet up a tree, was a different story. Here, he could actually hurt her if he wanted to, if he was insane enough to try. She doubted she could stop him if he did.
Owen just looked at her for a moment with those familiar, bright eyes. And then he said softly, “I already told you I’d find you, and I did. I wanted to warn you to start with, but you didn’t listen, did you? You never did listen to my advice.” He chuckled, and then sighed, falling serious again. “After that, I just wanted to see you to make sure you were okay, but you told me to stay away, so I did. Your mum had already planned to bring me to see you, saying that you’d love to see me again now that I’d pulled myself together. You had no idea I’d gotten clean, did you?” Owen shook his head, his small smile bitter.
Ember really wanted to scream right now. She put her hands to her head like it was splitting under the onslaught of impossible information. “Wait, wait…no…I haven’t spoken to you in four years! What’re you talking about!? You couldn’t have told me anything, because I haven’t seen you!” Panicking, she was panicking. Oh God, he was quoting her dreams. That was not a coincidence by any insane long shot. How was this possible? Her dreams were freaky, sometimes prophetic, but this was beyond even that. This was…this…she shuddered violently at the thought that he’d been in her head, in her private thoughts. For some reason, it was way creepier having Owen do that than when Reid did it – Reid was a vampire, and her boyfriend. He was allowed to occasionally glimpse her thoughts. It was just part of his vampy power. But Owen was human. He couldn’t do that.
But he had.
So he couldn’t be human.
Owen gazed at her with smart, sharp eyes. “Ah, you know exactly what I’m talking about, though. No, it’s not a coincidence. I was in your dreams, and it wasn’t just your imagination. I was really there Ember, and you of all people should know that sometimes the impossible is really possible.” Owen arched a brow meaningfully and Ember swallowed anxiously. He knew. He knew about the vampires. She could only hope he didn’t know about her freakish powers, too. Gooseflesh rose on Ember’s arms and the hairs on the back of her neck tickled. She glanced down at the ground too far below, wanting to get away. If she jumped, as long as she didn’t break her ankle, she could make it.
“Let me explain,” Owen pleaded, holding up his hands defensively. She looked at him. Explain? He was going to explain how the hell he’d gotten into her head, into her dreams? This ought to be good, Ember thought. She nodded warily at him, and he sighed.
“A year after you turned your back on me, I was involved in some pretty deep gang stuff. Drugs mainly. But I had an accident, a…near-death experience you might say. I was in a coma for a month.”
Despite her shaking nerves, Ember gasped, her eyes widening in shock. Owen smiled ruefully and said, “I’m okay now. There was no permanent damage. B
ut while I was in a coma, I had these dreams. They told me things. At first, I thought they were just dreams, but then they came again and again, and when I got out of the hospital, I decided to do some research. The dreams told me things about myself, about my family and ancestry. I looked up some of my family tree, some old heirlooms and such, and I was more than a little surprised. You see, you aren’t the only one with magic in your blood.”
Ember flinched, but tried to hide it. She looked away, biting her lip. He was joking right? He was guessing, or messing with her. There was no way he knew. But he did. Of course he did. He’d been in her head. He knew what she knew.
He gave her that knowing look again, and she wanted to hit him. “I’ve got magic in my blood too. Turns out that my great-great-great…a lot of great’s basically…great grandmother was accused of being a witch in 1678, when the trails were going on.”
That didn’t surprise her. A lot of people probably had ancestors who were tries as witches, and most of the others were likely related to the people who did the trying. But if everyone who had tries to those accused of witchery, they’d all be running around with witchy blood in them.
Owen was still talking as she thought. “I figured out how to awaken it – my power. It wasn’t a fun process but it worked. I found books and, amazingly, my great-great-whatever grandmother’s grimoire. It took some digging, but I figured out my powers and, well, for some reason I found I had a strange inexplicable connection to you. I could sense you somehow. Like a faint voice in the back of my head – just like I said in that first dream, Emy.” Owen smiled shyly at her. Ember was shocked by his use of the old nickname he’d had for her. Nobody had called her Emy in years. Sherry and Reid always called her Emz. Well, when Reid wasn’t calling her Demon instead…or Firefly. She liked Firefly best.
“I could hear you talking to me when I did something wrong,” Owen continued, and she wished he’d shut up so she could try and absorb some of what he was saying. “That’s why I got out of the gang and went straight. I’ve done a lot of research on it and I can’t find any explanation for it. I know you can’t sense me, otherwise you would’ve known I was coming today. Then again, you should’ve known that anyway if you’d paid attention to your dreams. That’s beside the point though.
“I checked back through several generations of both our families. No ties, no relation what-so-ever. So it’s not a one-family thing. I’ve spent the past two years trying to work it out and find you, and it was only recently that I developed the ability to dip into your dreams. I can’t do that to anyone else. Just you,” Owen said quietly, and he looked like he wanted to reach out and take her hand, his fingers twitched to do it, but he wisely kept his hands to himself.
Ember could feel her hands shaking, feel the blood draining from her face. Vampires, witches, werewolves – those things she could accept. But Owen, who she’d known since they were six years old, being, like her, half-witch? No. Worse, Owen having some sort of inexplicable connection to her…that was a nightmare that she refused to even attempt to accept. It made her skin crawl just to think of it. She didn’t want to be connected to him.
“Maybe it’s because you’re the only other person like me, with magic, that I know, or maybe it’s because we were so close before, I don’t know. But whatever it is, it means I can sense your…essence, if you like. The essence of your power. And I can find my way into your dreams, albeit with some difficulty,” he said, pausing to look at her evenly. “I know this is a lot to take in, and you probably won’t believe any of it for a while, but Ember I’m telling you the truth about all this and you know it. I’m part warlock, you’re part witch, and for some reason…we’re linked.” Owen said it with unmistakable finality, meaning he was going to shut up now. Finally.
Ember’s brain slowly processed everything he’d said and filed it away so she could start breathing normally again. A few puzzle pieces clicked into place. She understood the things he’d been saying in her dreams now, all the warnings, but…
“Wait, you were warning me about the witches. How did you know they were going to attack me?” she asked. She felt her brows crumpling in her confusion. Owen looked a little surprised, his eyebrows going up into black tangles of his wind-blown hair.
“That’s it?” he asked. “You’re not going to have a break down or question my sanity or scream at me? You’re just going to accept everything I just told you, just like that?” He stared at her with wary eyes. Ember almost smirked; it reminded her a little of the night she’d found out Reid was a vampire. He’d been so surprised when she’d casually talked with him about being a blood-sucking monster.
Ember levelled a dark look at Owen. “You’ve been plaguing my dreams for weeks, constantly warning me and mocking me, and then you show up today and tell me you’re part warlock. Do you not realise that that makes more sense to me than the dreams simply being the productions of my insane mind, and you showing up just totally coincidentally? My life doesn’t allow coincidence. Plus, um, hello, my boyfriend’s a vampire. I’m part vampire, for God’s sake! Did you really think I wouldn’t believe you?”
“Wait, seriously? You’re really part vampire? I didn’t seriously think you’d drink a vamp’s blood,” he said, and she couldn’t tell from his tone how he felt about the fact that she had sucked a vampire’s blood. Owen narrowed his incredible eyes and examined her, looking her over for outward signs of her vampirism.
Scowling, uncomfortably with his scrutiny, Ember grumbled, “Hey, well, I am. That’s beside the point right now. How’d you know the witches would attack me?” She had a lot of questions bubbling in her head about her dreams now but she’d get one answer at a time.
The wind lifted her hair, blowing it into her eyes, and she pushed it back impatiently. Owen watched the movement as if it fascinated him. It was a little like the way Reid sometimes watched her. Only Reid didn’t creep her out, and she couldn’t imagine why Owen would look at her like that, other than that he hadn’t seen her in four years, so maybe he was just interested to see her again.
Still staring at a lock of her hair as he spoke, Owen said, “I had a…vision. I take it you haven’t done much research yet. Well, I read in the grimoire I found that even if you’ve only got a tiny bit of magic in your blood, you can have special abilities, beyond the norm for witches and warlocks. The magic in our blood must come from two very strong witches to have survived this many generations – as far as I can tell, the magic skips most generations and waits for a host with the right combination of factors. I’m not sure what the factors are yet.
“But anyway, I get visions, like of the future. They only happen rarely, and they aren’t precise but…” He shrugged as if it was nothing. Ember swallowed that information as calmly as she could and proceeded to her next question.
“Why did you show up as the asshole I abandoned whenever I dreamt? I mean, you obviously aren’t like that anymore.” Ember glanced him over, hating that she noticed once again how attractive he was. Exhaustion must’ve been getting to her. It’d been a tough few days.
Owen blinked. “Oh, I could only appear to you in the form you thought of me in. You didn’t know I’d changed and the last time you saw me I was…an asshole, so that’s how you saw me. I couldn’t change appearance or attitude. Slipping into your dreams was easy, but controlling them was a lot harder. I could only change so much. So what you remembered me as, was how I was, and what I felt for you back then was what I felt for you in the dreams,” he explained, shrugging sheepishly. Uh-huh. There was a problem with that. He’d kissed her several times in her dreams. What did that mean? He’d been attracted to her at twelve years old, despite how she’d ratted him out and walked away? Right, she thought sarcastically, frowning.
“Mh-hmm…” she muttered thoughtfully, eyeing him warily. He was gazing down at the ground, looking thoughtful himself, but he sensed her gaze on him. He looked up at her, saw the expression on her face, and then his eyes went wide and he blushed.
“Oh. Um…I…I can guess what you must be thinking…you see, I guess that some of how I felt about you back then was…amplified or adapted to suit my age…I mean, I’d seen pictures of you, recent pictures, your mum showed me so I had a pretty good idea what you looked like these days and…I guess…” He stumbled over the words, and Ember just stared at him, which seemed to make him more nervous. She stared some more, making him increasingly uncomfortable. What the hell was he saying? Was he saying that even though he hadn’t seen her in four years, he really was attracted to her? How was that even possible?
“In plain English please,” she said. “The truth, too. I’m tired and my head hurts. Partly your fault seeing as you’ve been keeping me up at night,” Ember grumbled but Owen’s mischievous glance made her blush. “You know what I mean, idiot,” she added hastily. He had no right to smile at her like that, to think about her like that. No right at all.
He nodded, dropping his smile. “Basically, the reason I was so pissed when you abandoned me was because I liked you as more than a friend – I had a huge crush on you since I was ten. You remember how when we were kids, I said I’d marry you and we had that whole fake, kiddie wedding? Well, I never forgot that. Even when I was twelve, I was sure I was going to marry you. I always thought you were pretty, and after I saw those pictures of how you looked now…hey, don’t give me that look,” he said, pointing a finger at her accusingly. “I know your boyfriend could rip me to shreds. You asked for the truth, I’m just giving you it. I know we’ve not seen each other in four years, but you can remember how close we were, right? Our parents always said we were meant for each other. Total nonsense, really, but it was cute at the time. And you’ve really grown up. Not much taller than you used to be, but you’re definitely not twelve anymore.” Owen snickered, and she slapped him on the arm. Maybe he wasn’t so different from in her dreams after all. Great, I have a new fan, she thought sarcastically, feeling her headache throb behind her eyes.
