Chapter 18

Chapter

Eighteen

I run out on my mother because I can’t stand that she’s lied to me all my life and just expects that I would be okay with it. There are a thousand possibilities running through my head of how my life could have been if I’d known all this time what I can do. If I hadn’t been forced to feel inadequate. And I don’t know if they’re realistic because I’ve never had the chance to find out, and that is my mother’s fault.

When I’m down the street, far enough I can’t see the house anymore, I call Zane. It’s dark out and eerie, and there’s a chill in the air that makes me think I should’ve brought a jacket. Apparently, I don’t have to be scared. I’m one of the things , one of the dark creatures stealing power from other witches.

“Hey. I’m glad you called.” His voice is soft and deep, and I want to believe that he’s glad, but my life has been one lie after another lately.

I’m at a point where I trust no one. But if there’s one person I want to count on, it’s him. “Can you meet me?” I don’t have anyone else to ask and I don’t want to be alone.

“Did you find something out?” I try not to be suspicious, try to remember he has a stake in all of this, too. His magic is in as much danger as anyone else’s, but my stomach curls into a tight ball. What if he knows what I am? He’s a first-family member. The information about my dad is probably written in some book somewhere, and the first families would obviously know.

And now, Zane wants information I don’t know that I want to give.

“Kind of.” I shake my head. I don’t want to admit what I am to him. That I’m a danger to him and every other witch on the face of the earth. I don’t want him to know about my dad or me. But he’s never done anything to lead me to believe that whatever this is between us isn’t new and wonderful and real. Still, I’ll proceed with caution. I can’t have the family secrets out until I know what will happen if they are brought to light. “I just don’t want to be alone.”

“Okay.” He clears his throat and I love his voice. It’s funny the things that occur to me at random times, times when such serious things should be taking all my mind’s space, when my guard should be up and ready. “I can pick you up.”

“I’m walking to the park by my house.” I’m about a block away.

“I don’t like you being out there alone with this crazy syphoner on the loose.”

Oh, if only he knew. If only we knew each other better and I could tell him the truth and not be worried about the difference it would make. But I appreciate that he’s concerned, and my stomach flutters.

“I’ll be okay.” I like that he cares so much, despite how much this is all weighing on me.

“We can just stay on the phone until I get there.” He pauses and I can hear his car start. “What happened when you went home? Did your mom tell you anything?”

“No, she lied to us.” I can’t get into the specifics, but I can give him the overview. “There are things about my dad, personal stuff, that she should’ve told us that she never did.” I pause. “It’s why he left.”

“Moms have secrets.” He says it as if it’s one of those things about life that people don’t ever realize. But I know it. I know it a lot better now than I did a few hours ago. My knowing it, however, doesn’t make it right.

“I know, but she didn’t just keep a secret, she lied. About everything.” I shake my head. She has her reasons for not telling, and I have my reasons for being pissed off about it. “If she was just not telling us stuff…fine. Whatever. But she didn’t just omit information. She’s woven elaborate lies.” I can’t even believe the amount of deception she’s had to employ. We aren’t children anymore. She’s had a thousand opportunities to tell us about our dad, at least. Most recently, when she found me with the grimoire. Although now I understand why she’s been so angry.

He lives about five blocks from the park on the other side and he pulls up as I’m walking in from the opposite direction. When he has the car angled into a space at the front, instead of waiting for me to come to him, he gets out of the car and walks toward me. It only takes a few steps before he’s within arm’s length, and he steps closer and tugs me into a hug. “Everything is going to be okay, RJ. I don’t know how or why I think so, but I want you to know that you can trust me.” His voice is soft, full of promise, and I don’t want to read too much into it but I honestly can’t help it. My hopes are going to take a hard fall if he isn’t being sincere.

I tilt my chin up to look at him. “I can? ”

He nods. “Yeah.” More solemnly, he adds, “No matter what.” And he grins. “You want to get out of here? I know a place. It’s quiet. We can talk.” When I cock my head because when a guy takes a girl to a quiet place , it’s almost never to talk, he holds up both hands. “I promise. Just to talk.”

It isn’t that I don’t trust him. I just don’t know how to handle this situation. But I won’t be turning my head or running away this time if something happens.

When I nod, we walk back to his car together and he opens the door for me. It’s very old-school and I like it.

We’re mostly silent on the way to the lookout. It’s outside of town but on a cliff that overlooks the entire town, including the Institute. Earlier, the sunset would’ve lit the sky with shades of amber and pink and purple and gold.

He rolls down the windows and flicks the volume of the radio higher. “Come on.” For a minute after we’re out of the car, we stand at the edge of the cliff. Up here, nothing looks dangerous. From up here, the town looks peaceful and quiet. We can’t see a syphoner or the bad things that happen in the darkness. Up here, we’re safe. And alone.

“You think it’ll ever be the same?” He looks at me as we sit on the hood of his car. “That the Institute can go back to the way it was before all this syphoner business?”

“My mom said that there was one, a syphoner, running loose before and they handled it. Lockdowns and whatnot until the syphoner was…gone.” Although I hate the idea of how that happened. “She said when it was over, everything went back to the way it was.” I hate ever saying the word and more I hate pretending that I don’t know all about it.

He nods. “I’m never going to let anything happen to you,” he whispers and leans in. I don’t move. I wait for the soft brush of his lips and when it happens, I want it to never end.

Sparks fly between us. Literal sparks that land on the hood of his car in a splinter of orange that turns to ash, and when he pulls back, he leans his forehead against mine. “With you around, I feel…energized.”

He holds up his hand and I press mine against it. This time, I feel the sparks in my belly and my chest. It’s like little bursts of magic between us. They zip from my hand to his. “Me, too.”

For a few seconds, all the bad things fade away and it’s only me and him on a clear night at the lookout. “We’re going to figure this out, RJ.”

It’s like he knows the exact thing I need him to say, but part of me—a small part, but it’s there—wonders if he would still feel the same, still want to be my…whatever, if he found out I am a syphoner.

I don’t want to think about it. And I sure as hell don’t want to tell Zane and risk it.

We sit for a couple minutes doing nothing more than holding hands which is still nice, and I wonder about the sparks between us, if it’s real magic, or if it’s just some romance thing that happens between witches. I’ve never heard of it before.

Certainly, if it’s a witch thing, someone would have mentioned it in the hallway or during some after sex brag session. I hear things all the time because people talk around me like I’m not there, but I’ve never heard anything at all about sparks like this.

Maybe I have magic, after all. My dad has magic. He’s both witch and syphoner, so the idea that I could be like him isn’t out of bounds. I wonder if there are others.

I’ve used/borrowed/leeched off Aimee’s magic a thousand times to cast my own spell, to make my magic work. It’s what’s kept anyone and everyone from knowing I’m different. Although, there were times I could do magic at the Institute without her being around. I wonder who I was leeching off then.

It doesn’t really matter, although I suppose I need to keep that up for now, but she doesn’t have magic anymore.

“I need to try a spell. I have an idea and want to test it out.” If a syphoner is using Aimee’s magic, then it should have some kind of active energy. And that energy, according to Professor Creighton, will have Aimee’s unique signature. I’m going to try to use the energy that is uniquely Aimee’s to find it.

He nods. “Okay.”

While our connection is still buzzing, I close my eyes, tilt my head up, and murmur the words for a finding spell while I imagine Aimee, alone at home without her magic.

My body turns clockwise—and when I say it turns, I mean I’m not the one in control of it and sometimes magic like that scares me—but when I open my eyes, I’m facing his windshield and a picture of the Club Mera sign flashing in the glass.

“Did you just do that?” Zane looks at me. “It wasn’t me, but I felt it.” Softer, he whispers, “I felt it.”

“I did it.” When I answer, he blows out a short quick breath. “I should’ve thought of this earlier. I did a spell to look for Aimee’s magic.”

He cocks his head. “That shouldn’t work. You aren’t connected to her magic. You shouldn’t be able to do a finding spell.”

“I just pictured Aimee. Remember Professor Creighton, the sub? She said that all of us have a unique magic signature. I focused on Aimee’s.” Or maybe it worked because I am connected to it. Maybe because we’re sisters and we have the same magical bond to our parents who bestowed the magic, or because I have used her magic before to create my own.

Tonight, I’m using his, and for a couple seconds the idea distracts me enough that I wonder if using his magic means Zane and I are connected now, too. Part of me hopes it does, but that’s the na?ve girl part of me. The independent woman hopes I’m not. At least not until I know him better. Lust and desire aside.

But the very last thing I need right now is his suspicion. Especially since I’m about to ask him to take me to Club Mera.