Magic Revenge: An Urban Fantasy Novel (The Spirit War Chronicles Book 2)
Page 21
And that’s my cue to escape.
While everyone else convened, I stole a moment to myself. I went upstairs quietly and shut the door behind me, locking it. I could still hear the group laughing, bringing a grateful smile to my face. But what came next would not be joyful, at least not to start.
I grabbed my phone, put some headphones on, and checked the time. It was about 9:30 a.m. back in New York, which meant that the person I was calling would probably be awake.
I hovered my finger over “Amanda Stephens” and paused just before hitting send. I had a feeling this would be beyond a painful call, and I had no idea how Amanda would handle it. I didn’t even know what to say. Should I tell her that I ran into Paul? How weird would that sound? “Hey, Amanda, I saw your dead husband as an angel, and he said hi.” Truthfully, that sounded crueler than it did sweet.
I also had no idea if she would even answer my call. We hadn’t spoken since Paul’s death, and though we both attended the funeral, I kept a distance of several rows in the pews. I didn’t attend the reception afterward. I didn’t want to intrude on her grief. But now, thinking about contacting her, I didn’t know how she would have handled that. Would my silence over the past couple years have been perceived as a snub of some sorts? Did it look cowardly? Or fearful?
Amanda hadn’t made any attempt to contact me since, so I couldn’t really say for sure. But I could say that if Paul had asked me to call her, I had to.
I pressed send and the call began. It dialed once… it dialed twice…
Maybe she wouldn’t pick up. Maybe she saw the name—did she even have my name in the phone book?
It dialed a third time…
She didn’t want to talk to me. I should at least leave—
“Hello?”
I gulped, caught off-guard by the soft but friendly voice on the other line.
“Amanda Stephens?”
“Speaking.”
The voice was sweet and warm. I felt at ease, but worried that my next line would make her go 180 degrees. How could it not?
“Amanda, it’s Sonya Ferguson, how are you?”
I braced myself for the worst as I spoke those words quickly. I pictured Amanda cursing me out, telling me to never call her again, saying I was responsible—
“Sonya! It is so nice to hear from you. I was thinking about you the other day. I’m good. It’s a bit crazy around the house. Chris is starting kindergarten and doing well at it so far, so that’s good. Where are you now? Or should I not ask that? You are OK, right?”
I felt so relieved I almost began to cry tears of joy. Not only was Amanda happy to talk to me, she wanted to know what I was doing. And for once, I could answer all her questions.
“Oh, no, I’m fine, I’m good, I’m here in Europe on vacation with my brother.”
“You’re in Europe? With Brady? No way! I always wanted to go. Paul always said he would take me, but I guess that means I’ll have to take Chris myself.”
I listened intently to those last words, fearful that they might’ve been said with passive-aggressive malice or bitterness toward me. If she spoke with underlying hatred or blame, I couldn’t blame her.
But even as my mind seemed to want to find something in her tone that expressed anger, I could not. I was sure that she could not just forget what had happened to Paul, but she seemed to have already reached the space that I needed a miracle to reach—forgiveness.
“I can imagine. Listen, Amanda.”
“Yeah?”
I swallowed. I felt more nervous for this than for when I went to rescue Brady or fight Paul.
“I… the death of your husband, Paul. It’s weighed on me for a while. I feel responsible for what happened. And I just want to say, I know it’s a couple of years too late, but I just want to say I’m sorry. I—”
“Sonya,” Amanda said. I paused to let her speak, but we both found ourselves at a silence. I imagined she wanted to find the right words as much as I did. “Paul never, ever, ever said a bad word about you. If anything, I became jealous of how Paul spoke of you.”
“Really?” I said, my eyes feeling damp.
“Oh, are you kidding me? He loved you so much. He loved how ferocious you were and said that you would someday be one of the greatest CIA agents. He always said if World War 3 started, he could count on you to do world-saving intel.”
The tears started to fall. I did my best not to sniffle or let my voice be affected, but I’m sure it happened.
“I loved Paul so much,” I said. “Not like you did, I know. But he was such a good man. One of the best I ever knew. I’m sorry for—”
“Likewise,” Amanda said, and her voice fluttered just enough that I knew her eyes were damp on the other side. “But Sonya, please, understand. The way Paul spoke about you, and the way that he trusted you… I know you were on a mission with him when he died. But I knew that he would not have blamed you for his death. I don’t blame you for his death. Don’t blame yourself for his death. It’s OK.”
A part of me wondered if I should go ahead and tell her what had happened now. I wanted her to know that I’d finally reached that point, and it was because of Paul’s spirit that I had. Once again, Paul had taught me an invaluable lesson that I could carry forward.
But the honest truth was, the world wasn’t ready to know of the actual existence of demons and angels. Only the people in my current house knew the truth, though I suspected hundreds, if not thousands, of others strongly suspected the truth, whether because of demonic bites or other strange occurrences.
And if I spoke to Amanda about seeing Paul as an angel, I would have to explain why I saw him as a demon. And the last thing I wanted to do was besmirch the name of someone so special, even if I knew for one hundred percent certainty that the demon Paul was just a weakened form of Nuforsa.
“Thank you, Amanda,” I said, my voice shaking. I sniffled and snorted and laughed, apologizing for how I sounded. Amanda, good as a woman as ever, reassured me. “I can promise you this. I will never forget Paul Stephens, and I don’t mean that it will weigh on me. I mean it will lift me up. I’ll use his memory and the knowledge of him to fight the evils of the world and the demons which haunt us.”
I honestly didn’t intend to use those words, but fortunately, I realized they could be interpreted metaphorically.
“Paul was a good man, a man who helped me become the woman I am today and helped Brady become the man he is today. I’m so thankful every day that I got to work with him, and Amanda, I promise I’ll carry on his legacy.”
“And that right there is why my husband loved you so much,” Amanda said.
After that, the conversation turned to more mundane topics. Chris’ infant years, my travels through Europe, my relationship with Brady, my dating life—I mentioned that I’d met a hot Aussie on this trip, which drew some laughs and curious words, but I kept it vague—and Amanda’s plans for a future in politics. When we finally ended, we’d spent nearly an hour on the phone. I bid her farewell not with tears or sadness, but a sense of hope, cheerfulness, and optimism.
I headed downstairs to find Brady, the Brits, and DJ sharing a beer. A rather large beer, in fact—all four of them had giant mugs.
“Looks like you guys are unwinding the proper way,” I said with a weary smile.
“Unwinding?” Nicholas said. “On the contrary, love, we’re just getting warmed up for our next stop.”
“Don’t tell me…” I said.
“That’s right, darling,” DJ said. “We’ve earned ourselves a trip somewhere where we can drink during the day, dance on tables, sing with foreigners, and stay somewhere secure at night when the party ends.”
He stood up, raised his glass, and winked.
“Get ready for Oktoberfest in Munich. Prost!”
***
The story continues in “Magic Wrath.”
Click here to read it.
About the Author
Stephen Allan is the author of multiple sci-fi/fantasy
books, starting with the highly-praised “Kastori Chronicles” series. Readers have called him “a master storyteller” with “a writing style [that] has an ease and fluidity to it which will satisfy any… fan.” When he’s not writing, he’s chasing his two Siberian Huskies around in the backyard.
You can contact Stephen at stephen@stephenaallan.com.
You can follow him on Facebook at facebook.com/StephenAllanAuthor and visit his website at stephenaallan.com.
You can also be notified of new releases by joining his mailing list. Subscribers receive character sheets for Sonya, Brady, and DJ—with more to come as the series progresses!
~~The Spirit War Chronicles~~
Magic Awakening (December 2016)
Magic Revenge (December 2016)
Magic Wrath (January 2017)
Magic Betrayal (February 2017)
Magic Destiny (March 2017)
~~The Kastori Chronicles~~
Kastori Revelations (March 2016)
Kastori Devastations (May 2016)
Kastori Tribulations (July 2016)
Kastori Restorations (September 2016)
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Text copyright © 2016 by Stephen Allan
Cover art copyright © 2016 by Mirela Barbu
Edited via EditorConnect.com
All rights reserved. Published by Sypha Entertainment, Inc.
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